Lady of Light and Shadows
Page 80

 C.L. Wilson

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He raised shaking hands to his face. Disbelieving fingers sought the cursed mark of the outcast, the brand of his lost soul. It was not there.
Realization swept over him. Directly on its heels came horror, then devastating grief and guilt. He stared at the unconscious girl, the miracle he'd come to destroy, and tears he'd not shed in over a thousand years spilled helplessly from his eyes.
Dear gods, what had he done?
Marissya sent out another thrust of power at the threads of the outermost weave. After a brief protest, they unraveled and dissolved. Encouraged, she moved on to the next.
Layer after layer, Marissya picked apart the woven strands of Spirit and released their stored energy. Progress was quick at first, but slowed as each successive weave proved to be denser and more resistant to her efforts. Time passed without notice. Weariness crept over her, and she found herself reaching for Dax's strength to supplement her own.
She dissolved a particularly troublesome weave and nearly wept at the sight of the next. Knit tighter than any she'd ever come across, it was a veritable wall of power. Intimidating. Unbreachable. Weariness and despair swamped her.
«Marissya!» Alarm colored Dax's call.
«I can't do it. It's impossible, and I'm so tired.» She just wanted to sleep.
«Marissya!» This time, Dax sounded distant, muffled. She was dimly aware of a tugging sensation, but dismissed it. She would sleep. Just close her eyes and sleep for a while.
A surge of power rippled through her, jerking her back to awareness with a faint protest. «Nei, let me sleep. »
«Later.» It was Rain, his voice hard and commanding. «You are the shei'dalin. You must do this.»
« But I can't. Look at that weave. It would take days to unravel. »
Another surge of power joined Rain's. «The Feyreisa needs you, Marissya.» That was Bel. «We will give you our strength.»
It doesn't matter how much strength you give me. I can't do it. Don't you understand?”
"Let me help her!" For what seemed like the thousandth time, Gaelen pleaded with his stone-faced captors. "Scorch you all for your blindness! She restored my soul! Let me at least try to mend the harm I've wrought. Put red to my neck and kill me if I even breathe in a way you do not like, but let me help before you lose her.”
Ravel stared hard at his infamous captive. He didn't trust the dahl’reisen, but even he was shaken to his soul by the miracle Ellysetta seemed to have wrought. Tears were spilling down vel Serranis's cheeks. Dahl'reisen did not cry.
Ravel didn't know what to believe.
But Marissya's power was nearly spent, and the Feyreisa was not waking.
"Do it," Ravel snapped. "Tens, Cyr, put red to his throat. Jurel and Vonn, you take his back. If any of you sense the slightest inkling of ill intent, slay him. The rest of you, crack the weave but be ready to seal it again at a moment's notice."
A new surge of power rippled through Marissya. A brisk, powerful wind that swept across her awareness. Little sister … » Marissya felt her heart clench. «Gaelen?»
«It is I, ajiana. »
«Gaelen ... how-?»
«There will be time for answers later, ajiana, I promise. For now, take what I can offer you, finish your work, and return to your own self. I am here. Your mate is here beside me. We will not let you fail.»
«But, Gaelen, the weave is impossible. I don't even know where to begin. »
«It is a Spirit weave, Marissya, and it is defending itself against you. You are weary because it told you to be weary. Your power is spent because it told you to spend your power. It is impossible because it tells you to believe that. It's an illusion, little sister, as most Spirit is.»
«Gaelen-»
«You worry your mate, and though I've never liked him much, I cannot help feeling pity for him.» He gave a laugh that had been rare even when Marissya was a child. The sound of it filled her with renewed strength. «So do this thing, ajiana, and return to him.»
Marissya felt her brother's determination bolster her, an endless supply of power and sheer will from which she could draw forever. He was a tower of strength. He always had been. He was her hero, the brother she had idolized all her young life.
«Aiyah. I will do this.» She directed her attention to the Spirit weave, focusing her concentration, gathering the strength of those connected to her and weaving their wills to her own. She attacked the weave, not with subtlety but with bold determination, cutting through steely threads of Spirit as if they were tailor's silk. The weave tried to defend itself, swamping her with fatigue and self-doubt, but she persevered until the last thread was severed and the barrier fell away in dissolving bands of power.
«We did it!» she crowed, laughing at the dimming, now-powerless threads.
«You did it, little sister. »
«Gaelen ... oh, Gaelen, I've missed you. I-» Her voice broke off as her attention wandered away from the dissolving threads of Spirit and she caught sight of yet another weave.
«What is it?» Though no hint of worry colored Gaelen's mental voice, the mere question was enough.
«Marissya!» Dax did not try to hide his concern.
«There's another weave.» She breathed an awed sigh. «You should see it. It's brilliant. Beautiful.» Huge bands of power were woven in a tight sphere, the thick, multi-ply ropes of the weave shining white, blue, red, green, and lavender. «Five fold. Blessed tairen's fire, it's a five fold weave and masterfully done. »