There was no point in fighting. She'd spun the forbidden magic, knowing it would open her soul to him. Just as it had that day in Celieria's cathedral.

This time, she let the power wash over her and accepted the Mage's gloating triumph without resistance. She let it stab her, freeze her, bind her.

Then she crawled back to her feet and continued to weave.

The Mage's consciousness flickered with surprise. He was linked to her through his three Marks and the power she was wielding. He knew she was still weaving. «What are you doing, girl?» She felt the cold, probing fingers reaching into her soul, prying at her mind in an effort to read her intentions, looking for some clue that would tell him where she was and what she was up to. She clenched her teeth and tried to block him out, all the while continuing to spin the forbidden magic.

Her whole body was shivering now, her mouth filled with gagging sweetness. A third shadowy Mark had joined the first two on her left breast, and the dark trio throbbed in time with her pulse, like knives of ice thrust into her heart, vibrating with every rhythmic beat.

Rain, in tairen form, continued to sing to the kits. He didn't try to connect to her through the threads of their truemate bond. She'd made him swear he wouldn't do that while she wove the dark magic, afraid the Mage would be able to use her as a tool to Mark him. But she could still sense his fear and horror. He sang strength and reassurance to the kits, but for himself and her he had none. His tairen claws dug deep into the sand, and his tail whipped against the rock walls of the cavern in helpless distress.

Ellysetta forced herself to block out his emotions and the cries of the kits so she could concentrate on her weaves. There was no room for mistakes or wild, instinctive, uncontrollable magic. As Gaelen had impressed upon her again and again during their bells of practice, Azrahn was too dangerous a magic to allow even the tiniest lapse of control.

She drew upon the discipline Venarra and Jaren had drilled into her, keeping her mind focused and her weaves steady and strong, using the power of the Tairen's Eye crystals around her neck and waist and wrist to amplify and concentrate her magic.

She went from egg to egg, spinning Azrahn, carefully weaving the threads down the invisible, spider-silk-thin connections that tied the egg-bound kitlings to the Well of Souls. She used those threads as the conduit through which she fed her Azrahn-enhanced healing weaves.

The High Mage sensed what she was doing. His glacial anger washed over her. «Foolish girl. You are tampering with powers you do not understand.»

Eld ~ Boura Fell

Vadim Maur shoved back from the map table. She dared? The umagi he had created—the creature whose extraordinary powers he had engineered for his own greatness—dared use those gifts to challenge her master?

The room was silent and icy. The Primages were staring at him, expressionless and watchful. His brows plummeted, and the temperature in the room fell further.

If that troublesome little petchka thought she could best the High Mage of Eld, she had a harsh lesson to learn.

"Order your commanders to assemble their troops. If I'm not back within four bells, send the armies into the Well."

He turned and stalked out of the room and down the corridor to his personal chambers.

"Master Maur!" The umagi who tended his personal affairs leapt to his feet when Vadim stormed in.

"Fetch Tallinn," he snapped, referring to the third near-term pregnant woman awaiting her child's gift from the Well. "No, wait, fetch her and the other three who are closest to term. I want them all in the birthing chamber in half a bell!" Each word cracked with ice.

The servant bowed and scraped and nearly fell over himself rushing for the door. "Of course, great one. Immediately."

Ellysetta Baristani thought she would rob him of his Tairen Souls? She would regret her impudence. Purple robes swirled as Vadim stormed into his office and headed for the chamber where he kept his most precious implements of power, including the two remaining needles that held Ellysetta Baristani's blood.

The Fading Lands ~ Fey'Bahren

Ellysetta lost track of time. Enveloped in a cocoon of swirling magic, she sent wave after wave of healing and strength down the silk-thin threads of Azrahn into the Well of Souls, feeding that power to the kitlings' souls.

Their initial, whimpering fear had faded when they'd realized Ellysetta's magic was not the dark evil that hunted and hurt them. As she'd continued to spin and sing to them, they'd begun to sing back.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the kitlings' faint voices grew stronger.

Sybharukai crooned encouragement. Steli purred and nudged Ellysetta's body with her head. «Your magic is working, kitling.»

Eld ~ Boura Fell

The four pregnant woman were strapped, unconscious, to the birthing tables. Vadim had not planned to attempt soul-binding Tailinn's child until the Mother went new again and his powers reached their next peak, but he could not afford to wait. Nor had he ever attempted to bind more than one soul in a night, but he'd be damned before he'd let Ellysetta Baristani rob him of the great prizes he'd spent months preparing to harvest.

Vadim snapped his fingers, and one of the servants offered him a crystal goblet. He lifted the cup and drained it dry. The dark red potion carried the metallic tang of blood from Tailinn and the other women, mixed with a heavy dose of several magical herbs, and powdered selkhar crystal.

When the tingle of the potent blood magic spread through his system, he raised his beringed hands and began the invocation of his most useful and grudging servant. "Choutarre, Soul Taker, in the name of Seledorn, Prince of Shadows, I summon thee. Choutarre, Soul Taker, in the name of Seledorn, Lord of Demons, I bind thee. Choutarre, Soul Taker, in the name of Seledorn, God of Darkness, I command thee to serve as hand of my power and executor of my will."