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Among Sgäile's companions were two men and one young woman with glowing white
hair. She didn't linger as long as the others in studying Chap and turned her
attention upon Leesil. While the others were still shocked by the dog's
action, this female's feather eyebrows cinched together and open hatred
wrinkled her angular features.
Leesil had never seen an elven woman besides his mother.
In spite of this one's expression, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. She
didn't look anything like Nein'a. Her skin was darker and her features were
almost gaunt in their narrow construction. He made out a prominent scar hiding
beneath the feathering of her left eyebrow. Still, her white silky hair and
peaked ears made his heart pound as he thought of his mother.
One of the men looked about middle-aged, perhaps even older than
Sgäile, though how many human years that meant was beyond Leesil to guess.
Though taller than Leesil, he was the shortest of the males, with a rough
complexion compared to the others.
The fourth was even taller than Sgäile and young. He looked no more than
twenty by human standards and was the most stricken by Chap's savage entrance.
Light erupted behind Leesil.
Wynn stepped close beside him, her expression awash with fascination as she
held up the crystal.
"What do you want?" Magiere demanded.
"Lower your weapons," Sgäile said, slow and soft. "Please, put them away."
The elven woman stepped closer to him but didn't sheathe her stilettos. They
were longer of blade than any Leesil had seen, perhaps a third the length of a
sword. She gestured with one toward Magiere and Wynn.
"Lhâgshuilean& schi chér âyâg," she hissed, and then pointed the blade toward
Leesil. "Ag'us so trú, mish meas "
"Tosajij!" Sgäile returned sharply.
She never looked at him but hissed and fell silent, her eyes still locked on
Leesil.
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Leesil didn't understand what either had said. Except for one word so close
to what he'd heard from a young anmaglâhk in Darmouth's crypt.
Trú& True& traitor. He'd never have trouble understanding that.
Sgäile's half hints were the reason he'd come here. The reason he'd dragged
Magiere and Wynn and Chap halfway across the continent. He wanted answers, and
he kept his stiletto at ready. His own anger sharpened, and he stepped closer.
"We're not putting anything away," he said right into Sgäile's face, "until
you tell us why you've come& and where my mother is."
The younger male had circumvented Magiere, coming up near Sgäile. His
expression changed to nearly visible surprise at either Leesil's words or his
tone, possibly both. He wasn't carrying a bow, but a boning knife appeared in
his hand. From behind Leesil. Wynn spoke out in a long string of Elvish.
All four anmaglâhk turned full attention upon the sage with guarded surprise.
"You speak our language," Sgäile replied in Belaskian. "Yet strangely."
"Bithâ," Wynn answered.
The young female hissed something in Sgäile's ear.
"Do not let your grief breach our ways," said the older male with the rough
face.
He stood off to the left but clearly spoke to the woman. She turned on him,
but fell silent.
Leesil wondered what grief the elder elf spoke of.
"Where did you learn our language?" Sgäile asked, refusing to speak to Wynn
in his own tongue.
"On my own continent," she answered. "There are elves south of the Numan
countries."
"Liar!" the female snapped. "Deceitful, like all humans."
These were the first non-Elvish words she'd spoken. Magiere had kept her eyes
on the older Anmaglâhk to the left, but her attention shifted to the woman,
and her voice crackled low like Chap's growl.
"How rich& coming from the likes of you."
She swung her falchion slowly around toward the woman. Sgäile raised an arm
in front of his comrade, but it wasn't clear exactly who he protected or
restrained.
Leesil was getting tired of all this. "You aren't going to keep us out of
this forest. Where is my mother? Is she still alive?"
Sgäile's expression remained guarded, but a flicker of discomfort crossed his
narrow face. "Cuirin'nên'a lives, I assure you."
Leesil quivered in sudden weakness, and the chest's rope halter seemed to
bite deeper into his shoulders.
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"We would never kill one of our own," Sgäile continued. "But she is a great
distance off, and the forest will not long tolerate your companions& or
perhaps even you. We were sent to guide and protect you."
"And we're supposed to trust you?" Magiere asked.
"No," Sgäile answered politely. "I offer guardianship& and the safe passage
of Aoishenis-Ahâre himself." His gaze shifted back to Leesil. "Do you ac-cept?
Leesil's anger got the better of him. "Not by every dead deity that I can
"We accept your guardianship," Wynn cut in, "and that of your&
greatgrandfather?"
Leesil turned bewildered outrage on Wynn. She remained calm and composed,
facing only Sgäile as he returned a gracious nod.
"Wynn!" Magiere hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"
"What you brought me for," she answered flatly. "You do not understand what
is happening, and there is no time to explain it all now."
"My caste is trusted by all of our clans," Sgäile added. "I will not allow
harm upon you, so long as you are under my guardianship& and how else will you
find Cuirin'nên'a but through us? She was once one of our caste."
Those last words taunted Leesil. Who else among the elves but the An-maglahk
would know his mother's location? They had imprisoned her as a traitor, and it
seemed this "great-grandfather" had authority over the whole caste.
"If she's still alive," Leesil asked bitterly, "did you leave her suffering
in some cell all these years?"
The thought made him ill, for he blamed himself as much as the An-maglâhk as
much as Sgäile. Nein'a had twisted Leesil's life to a hidden purpose, but he
was the one who'd abandoned his parents eight years ago.
Sgäile's features twisted in revulsion, and his eyes flashed with anger.
"I did not leave Cuirin'nên'a anywhere! She is safe and well and that is all
I may tell you. I am a messenger and your assigned guardian.
Aoishenis-Ahâre" he glanced at Wynn "Most Aged Father will answer your
questions."
Leesil turned to Magiere; her white skin glowed in the crystal's light.
"I don't think we have a choice," he said quietly.
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