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I frowned. “He became an assassin.”
“Not, mind you, the most ethical choice of careers, but he’s good at it and we must face facts—assassins are necessary, as are scouts and rangers and soldiers. Every government has its own elite arsenal of fighters. Quall belongs to us, and we make use of him when we have the need.” Trenyth slid into the chair that the assassin had vacated.
“And you approve of having assassins in your employ?” Delilah cocked her head. “I thought elves wouldn’t approve of the darker routes.”
Trenyth shrugged. “Elves hold honor in high regard. However, that does not mean we eschew common sense, nor vital military tactics.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.
“But you don’t like it,” I said softly.
“No. I long for the days when Elqaneve was isolated, when we kept to ourselves. But that was long before the Great Divide, and time waits for no one, be they elf or Fae or human. Politics do not make good bedfellows with honor, and try as we might, there can never be a return to the days of glory, where we wandered through the forests, silent in our thoughts, singing of heroes long lost and battles shrouded in the mists of time.”
It was, perhaps, the longest statement we’d ever heard Trenyth make, and it left me unsettled. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of the days during which the worlds had been one, when time had still been young in the way of sentient beings, before progress had come to both Earthside and Otherworld.
“You were young then, weren’t you? Before the Great Divide?”
He gave me a faint smile. “Was I ever young? Ah…yes, my dear, beautiful vampyr…I was young, and the Queen was in her glory days. I entered her service and gave my life to the Crown.”
“And your heart,” Camille whispered.
Trenyth jerked. “What are you talking about?”
But rather than tell him what we knew, rather than put him on the spot, especially in front of Queen Asteria, she just smiled softly.>“You really think you’re my equal?” Quall had barely gotten the words out when Camille was halfway over the table, her eyes flashing. Trillian grabbed her back as the assassin pulled out a blade.
Trillian wrestled her back, pinning her arms behind her as she tried to free herself from his grasp. “Camille—come on. Let it go. Let it be.” His voice was smooth, like honey. After a moment, she stood there, panting heavily, looking in a murderous rage.
I turned to Quall, fangs down and glistening. “Apologize. Now. Don’t ask why, don’t bother objecting. Just do it. I can suck your blood faster than you can load an arrow.” I knew why Camille had lost it—Hyto had said something eerily similar to her, just before he raped her. Some triggers, you never could disarm.
Quall caught my gaze as I waited, neither blinking nor moving. He shifted with the faintest of hesitations, then a barely visible shudder.
“Accept my apology. I spoke out of line.”
Of course he didn’t mean it—his heart wasn’t behind the words, but that didn’t matter, at this point. The snide look disappeared and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
I glanced at Camille. She was fuming, but she was out of the fight-or-flight mode. She shot him a look of disgust but took her seat again. Trillian kept his hand on her shoulder and flashed me a grateful look.
I sized up Quall again. I didn’t like him. I really didn’t like him. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t loyal to the core when it came to Queen Asteria. Personal trust was a different thing than professional trust, and we could work with him, if he learned to keep his mouth shut.
Sidling a glance at Taath, the sorcerer, I tried to gauge his reaction, but it was near impossible. His eyes gleamed from within the robe, but without seeing his face, I had no clue as to what he might be thinking. Darynal, however, looked pissed out of his mind. I didn’t expect him to speak up, and was pleasantly surprised when he turned to Quall.
“Show these women and their companions some respect, or I will speak to Queen Asteria about replacing you. Your skills are worthless if you alienate our allies.” His voice was riddled with threat, and he leaned forward, his eyes a pale flurry of ice. I’d seen Trillian with that look once or twice, but Darynal had perfected it and magic oozed off him. The Svartans weren’t called the Charming Fae for nothing—they could mesmerize with a kiss, hypnotize with a look, if they really wanted to. And they could menace just as easily.
Trillian arched his eyebrows, but said nothing. The flush in Camille’s cheeks faded as she relaxed.
After another tense moment, Taath let out a low whistle. “Assassin, we need you. Do not let your pride cloud this mission.”
“Sorcerer, I’ll do as I see fit.” Quall grimaced, as if he’d just swallowed a frog, but he shrugged. “Very well. Let us move on.”
“See that you mind yourself. You may be an assassin but you know nothing about the Svartans’ abilities to inflict suffering.” Darynal gave him another long look, then turned to us. “Tell us everything you know about Telazhar. We have the records from Queen Asteria, but it’s been over a millennium since he walked the sands of the Southern Wastes, and much can change in that time, especially with him locked away in the Subterranean Realms.”
And so, we put aside our quarrel and shared all the information we had, from when we first suspected that Telazhar had gated in Stacia Bonecrusher over Earthside to our discovery that he was working with Gulakah.
In return, Darynal promised to tell us everything they found out about what was going down in the Southern Wastes, which—as of now—wasn’t much.
“Our operatives in Dahnsburg heard from another agent sequestered down in Rhellah that the sorcerers are uniting again, under an ancient necromancer. They did enough research before contacting us to verify that it’s Telazhar, but since he’s keeping himself hidden in the Southern Wastes, there isn’t much that Queen Asteria, King Uppala-Dahns, or Queen Tanaquar can do about it. The former two were among the primary triad who had ousted him the first time around.”
“What about Vodox?” Trillian cocked his head. “Queen Asteria mentioned she’d sent word to him. What says the King of Svartalfheim? And the dwarves? Is the court of Nebelvuouri pledging arms?”
“Both are listening with open minds, but neither has taken a stance yet. We expect Vodox to take our side before the dwarven court makes up its mind. Since Svartalfheim has lately returned to Otherworld from the Subterranean Realms, our king chooses to cooperate.”
