Marissya shook her head emphatically.

"Good. Then let's go. You can check the kitlings yourself and tell us definitively whether shei'dalin skills can heal them."

Marissya started forward, then stopped. "Wait. What about Dax?"

"He stays behind," Rain answered without hesitation. "There are eggs in the lair, and three tairen died last night. The pride would kill him before his foot touched the nesting sands."

"But he is my shei'tan. The tairen have always welcomed the mates of those they welcome into the pride."

"You were not welcomed into the pride, Marissya. Sybharukai merely said you could enter Fey'Bahren to help Ellysetta save the kitlings." He glanced at Dax. "I don't know how long we'll be, but you have my oath I will protect your mate as if she were my own."

"I know you will." Dax waved them off. "Go."

Rain flew Marissya and Ellysetta up to the main entrance of the lair. Together, with Rain in the lead, they walked down the winding tunnel towards the nesting sands.

Marissya's eyes were wide with wonder, peering down every tunnel and drinking in the mysteries of Fey'Bahren as they descended towards the volcano's heart.

"When we enter the nesting lair," Rain instructed, "we will all walk slowly across the sands to the eggs. Marissya, if at any time tonight the tairen seem agitated, stop whatever you're doing."

«Would the pride really kill Dax if he entered the lair?» Ellysetta asked the question on a private weave, troubled by the possibility. The tairen were intelligent and powerful beings, not mere animals. She found it difficult to reconcile the warm welcome she'd received from the pride with the mindless, wild savagery Rain seemed so certain they would exhibit.

«Survival is a tairen's strongest instinct, and this is where tairen hatch their young,» he answered. «Any intruder is considered a threat. When it comes to the safety of their young, tairen will kill anything and anyone that threatens them. Don't ever doubt that.»

They reached the bottom of the tunnel, and hard stone gave way to a thick carpet of fine, dark black sand. Inside the nesting lair, the tairen had returned to their ledges except for Sybharukai, who lay curled around the eggs, crooning songs of tairen strength and ferocity to the kitlings.

The tairen closest to the tunnel mouth growled and fluttered their wings when they saw Marissya, but a roar from Sybharukai kept them in place. Her eyes whirled bright and green in the smoky grey of her face, and she remained curled around the eggs, her tail thumping the sand.

«The Fey-kin may approach the eggs, but if she wounds the kitlings, her blood will soak the sands.»

One of Marissya's hands rose to her throat; the other held Ellysetta's in a crushing grip. Sybharukai had spoken in very distinct Feyan, on the common path.

"I … I have no intention of harming them, wise one," Marissya assured the tairen. "I am here only to offer what help I can to the Feyreisa."

«The Fey-kin is warned.» With that, Sybharukai rose up on her paws and backed up three steps to grant Ellysetta and Marissya access to the eggs. In a show of silent menace, the great cat extended the long, ivory spikes in her tail and stabbed them into the sand.

Ellysetta led the way, moving towards the center of the clutch of eggs. She laid a hand on each and crooned a quiet song of greeting. "They like when you sing to them. This is Miauren." She stroked the closest egg. "He is a fine, brave tairen. And this is Hallah, who I think will be fierce and beautiful like Steli-chakai. And these little ones are Letah, Sharra, and Forrahl."

"You picked fine tairen names for them," Marissya said, cautiously stepping closer.

"I didn't pick them. The kitlings told me their names when I sang to them earlier today." Ellysetta smiled at the shei'dalins surprise. "Rain tells me tairen kitlings are sentient even in their mother's womb, months before she lays the eggs in the nest. Here, come lay your hand on Hallah's shell and sing to her." She moved aside so Marissya could step in beside her. "She likes warriors' songs. Letah and Sharra prefer lullabies."

"What does Forrahl like?"

Ellie smiled fondly. "Everything. When I sing to him, he purrs so loudly his egg shakes. Watch." She turned and began to sing a Celierian hymn, and sure enough, the egg beside her began to rock happily.

"You are a wonder, Feyreisa," Marissya murmured. "I don't think it's the song he enjoys half so much as the love you're weaving on him when you sing it." Still, gamely, she crouched beside the eggs closest to her. "So you two like lullabies, do you?" Tilting her head, she began to croon the tunes Feyan mothers sang to their children when they were small.

As they sang, Marissya reached out with her magic to check the kitlings. She kept her weaves featherlight and as unobtrusive as possible without sacrificing efficacy. The care slowed her down, but her results were conclusive. Just as Ellysetta had said, there was nothing physically wrong with the kitlings. Marissya could find no infection, no imperfections, weaknesses or blockages in their vital organs, no malignancies anywhere in their bodies. They weren't even tired anymore, thanks to the inadvertent healing Ellysetta was weaving on them as she sang.

And yet, without a doubt, they were dying.

Ellysetta hadn't been around enough death yet to recognize it, but Marissya had. She'd served too long in the healing tents during the Wars, knelt by the sides of too many mortally wounded Fey, Elves, and men. Death was here. She'd fought it so often, so desperately, it was as familiar to her as the sight of Dax's beloved face. A faint, cold shadow buried in the heart of the kitlings' warm brightness.