Adrissu waved him away and opened the letter; it was not uncommon to get a missive from someone he did not know, but he had not been expecting anything. But the letterhead at the top of the parchment identified the note as coming from the Lord Representative herself, Willow Elafaer, which was even more of a surprise. He had been trying to avoid the Elafaer family as a whole—why was she writing to him now?
Headmaster Adrissu Rolastra,
I have recently become aware of an interesting connection between yourself and a favored weapons dealer, whose wares I’ve purchased to arm my household guards. If you are still able to manufacture the Blackthorn model from approximately five years ago, I find it much preferable to the models being created currently and would pay a premium for more of these weapons. I would love to sit down with you and discuss over a meal at your convenience. Reply to the above address, and I will be in touch.
Lord Representative
Willow Elafaer
This was not at all what Adrissu had expected. She thoughthewas the maker of the Blackthorn weapons, not Pollux—but how had that connection even been made in the first place? Someone must have recognized Pollux, or at the very least noticed him moving between the workshop and Adrissu’s tower. He could think of no other explanation. Unless…
Could she have drawn the loose threads connecting Zamnes to himself? Pollux started Blackthorn Enchantments in Wintergrove and had made the only advancement in steam-enchanted weaponry since Granville Kipp of that same city, who had died in the destruction of his workshop at the hands of three dragons—one of whomcouldhave been identified as the nearby Zamnes, which would have been the first confirmed sighting in centuries of the black dragon. Could the letter, then, be some kind of veiled threat?
He was getting ahead of himself, surely; and regardless, he did not want to interact with Willow more than absolutely necessary. He could go and deny his involvement with the Blackthorn, but it perturbed him that the weapons were still being made—even if they were now of poorer quality, if her words were anything to go by. And she was arming her own personal guard with them? They had been designed to kill adragon, and she was giving them to petty guards.
“What a waste,” he muttered, unable to hold back the revulsion rising in his throat. The letter disturbed him, so he set it aside to deal with later; but the unsettled feeling lingered with him for the rest of the day. When he returned to his tower, Pollux was not home, so he walked to the workshop to discuss the matter with him before making a decision.
“Oh, Adrissu,” the elf said, his normally stern face coming alive with surprise when they locked eyes, though only for an instant before his usual stoic mask slipped back into place. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Adrissu smiled at him. His little secret expressions, the ones only Adrissu saw, made him feel like his heart might burst. “I wanted to come by and talk to you. I received a strange letter and thought I might get your advice before acting.”
“Strange?” Pollux repeated with a frown, immediately looking uneasy.
“Nothing to be too concerned about, I think,” Adrissu said, pulling the letter from his robes and handing it to Pollux, rather than waste time with explanations. The elf took it and read it quickly, but his frown only deepened.
“She’s equippingguardswithBlackthorns,” he finally said, once he had read it, his voice dripping with incredulity. “By the gods, what is she thinking?”
“I had the same thought myself,” Adrissu replied dryly. “This poses several questions to me. How did she even learn about the weapon? And why does she thinkI’massociated with their production and not you? How did she get a hold of an older model, putting aside how she even knows about these weapons in the first place? You know I don’t want to associate with the Elafaers for a range of reasons, but I don’t know how to deny such an invitation. I think I should go, if only to get answers. What do you think?”
For a long moment, Pollux was silent, looking down at the parchment in his hand.
“I didn’t know there were more of my original weapon out in the world,” he finally said, his voice sounding small. “I thought I had the last one, and the rest were accounted for. Gods, I wish I had never made the damned things.”
“I’m sure she got it secondhand somehow,” Adrissu replied, reaching over to grasp his wrist. Pollux leaned into him, his tense form easing against Adrissu’s steady frame. “I know I can’t control how you feel, but truly, I wish you wouldn’t hold on to this guilt.”
“It wasn’t meant to be used this way,” he growled, pushing his face into Adrissu’s shoulder. “You should go just to try to find out where she got it—if you can get it back. And see what new weapons they’re making. Gods, I knew they would still work on it, but... I didn’t want to see any of it.”
“I understand,” Adrissu replied, keeping his voice low and soothing. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
AdrissuwenttoseeWillow a few days later, putting on a nicer set of robes and walking across the city to the Elafaer estate for supper with the Lord Representative. The estate was everything he hated about wealthy elves: walled off from the rest of the city and sequestered in its own secret gardens, guards standing watch every so often along the length of the wall and two at the ornate wooden gate. He could hear a fountain running behind the gate and fought back a scowl at the wanton display of opulence.
“I’m here to have supper with the Lord Representative,” he said coolly to the guard who looked askance at him as he approached, holding out the letter that he’d received. The guard scanned it quickly—Adrissu looked at his face as he read it, noting that the man was a half-elf—then he nodded and opened the gate. As he headed up the winding garden path toward the home, he wondered if all their help were half-elves, since he was sure no full elves would come all the way to the far end of Autreth, only to serve another elven family. With equal certainty, he doubted that the Elafaers would want humans regularly in and around their house, servants or not. But, he reminded himself, Willow too was a half-elf, so perhaps this was only his own assumption getting the better of him.
A servant met him at the entrance of the house and led him to a formal dining room, where a long table took up much of the space with a single figure sitting near the far end. Willow Elafaer looked up as he entered, smiling brightly and standing to greet him. She looked mostly elven, with a tall, slender frame and long, silvery-blonde hair in a neat braid down the middle of her back, an ornate silver clip holding it together at the end.
“Thank you for coming to see me, Headmaster. I believe we’ve never met before, but I’m Lord Representative Willow Elafaer, as you know,” she said, extending her hand to him as he came to his seat. Adrissu shook her hand, forcing himself to smile.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Representative,” he said. She gestured for him to sit, and they took their places, facing each other on opposite sides of the rectangular table. Two servants must have been waiting for them to sit, as each of them were presented with a full goblet of wine as they settled into their seats. “I must admit, I was surprised to receive your invitation.”
“I apologize for the sudden request, but, well,” she said with a smile, before taking a sip of her wine. “There’s no, ah, subtle way to ask about these matters, I suppose.”
“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Adrissu said, “But I am not the creator of the Blackthorn weapon. I was not involved in any way. I know its creator, but it seems you were given inaccurate information.”
“Is that so?” she asked, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. Adrissu watched her face carefully, as she seemed to mull over the admission. She did sound disappointed, but something else crossed her face, too, that he wasn’t completely sure he could place; but when she spoke again, it was with the same pleasant smile and upbeat tone. “Then, tell me, how do you know its creator?”
“My partner, Pollux,” Adrissu replied evenly. They had agreed that there was no point in trying to obfuscate the truth when she was already so close to it; and besides, Pollux pointed out, maybe he could make some modified weapons for her as a side job, if that was what she really wanted. “Pollux Blackthorn. I’m sure you can see the connection.”
