Yet here in this dark little room, he was in the company of a bloodthirsty monster obsessed with Wynn, his own estranged daughter, and an elven butcher willing to murder his own kind as long as it served his agenda.
How could this not be awkward?
Almost as soon as Ore-Locks had left to the deliver the message, Brot’an dropped to the floor, sitting cross-legged to wait. Was not that what anmaglâhk did—wait as if without care until the moment to strike, always listening ... watching everything?
The sight did not unsettle Chap. He had expected nothing else, especially from Brot’an. What did unsettle him was the sight of Chane sinking down to sit on the bed’s edge, with Wynn joining him, sitting close enough that her shoulder touched his upper arm. Then Shade sidled in against Wynn’s outside leg.
The three of them looked so ... together.
“Chane, hand me the pitcher and basin,” Wynn said. The sudden sound of her voice was startling in the silent room.
Chane reached for the chipped basin and a pitcher on the tiny table beside the bed. He handed these to Wynn, who immediately poured water and set the basin on the floor for Shade to lap.
Chap had sent Shade to watch over Wynn, but it appeared the caretaking went both ways.
“Are you thirsty?” Wynn asked.
Chap looked up from watching his daughter and found Wynn watching him.
No, I am ... fine.
He would have rather shouted into her thoughts, demanding why she sat there next to that thing ... that walking corpse. He wanted to force an explanation from Shade as to why she tolerated this, as well. His daughter was majay-hì; aside from their guardianship of elven lands, their kind protected the living from the undead.
Chap did neither of those things. He feared that if he did, he would receive no answers and only weaken the tentative thread holding all of them together. For Wynn was right about one thing. The lines being drawn here were going to create unexpected, unwanted alliances. No matter how abhorrent, these alliances could not be refused ... for now.
They all sat in silence, except when Wynn briefly questioned Chane about how he and Ore-Locks had managed to escape the keep. Chane’s even shorter answers in his voiceless rasp made Chap’s skin crawl beneath his bristling fur. It felt as if more than one night had crawled by when they all heard heavy-booted steps outside the little room’s door.
“It is me,” a low, deep voice whispered outside.
Chane went to open the door, and Ore-Locks stepped inside.
“Did you find anyone at the shop?” Wynn asked.
“Yes, your Master a’Seatt ... and the girl,” Ore-Locks answered. “I passed on the note, and I think we should hear something by tomorrow night.”
Wynn closed her eyes in relief.
“There is more,” Ore-Locks went on, his thick red eyebrows scrunching. “That captain, the one with the trimmed beard, stopped by the shop before I left.”
Wynn’s eyes snapped opened again. “Rodian? What did he want?”
Ore-Locks shook his head. “I left before he did, but thought it worth mentioning.”
Wynn looked troubled, but Chap was relieved. With the message delivered, their goal accomplished, this unsavory encounter was at an end.
We have plans to make and things to discuss back at our own quarters. We go ... and Shade should come, too. She belongs with us.
Wynn looked at him. “You and Brot’an go back. Shade and I are staying here. These are our quarters.”
Chap jumped to his feet in shock, as if he had not heard her correctly.
Brot’an stood up instantly, looking between them. It appeared he was becoming more adept at knowing when something had passed silently between Chap and another.
“What is happening?” the elf demanded.
“Chap thinks it is time to return to Leesil and Magiere,” Wynn related. “He’s right, but Shade and I are staying here. In my message to Hawes, I told her to come to me ... here. You two go back and let the others know what is happening.”
Chap could not hold back a snarl. No! If you or Shade remain, then so do I.
“You can’t,” she told him calmly. “Leesil will never believe anything if Brot’an’s the only one to report back. You have to go with him.”
Brot’an kept glancing between them, at a loss for having heard only half of what was said. Chap was in no mood to have Wynn explain, nor for any more of her nonsense.
And what will Leesil say when I return without you? What will Magiere say ... or do?
“Tell them I have to meet with Premin Hawes. They will understand—they have to.”
“No, they will not,” Brot’an spoke up. “You will leave with us, little one.”
This time it was Brot’an who received Wynn’s glare of warning. “Don’t think you can tell me what to do.”
Chane stood up, towering over Wynn, and Shade rose from her haunches, as well. Ore-Locks stood watching in confusion, his iron staff in one hand; he took hold of it with his other on witnessing Chane’s and Shade’s reactions.
Wynn looked nothing like the young woman Chap had once known, the one who had depended on him for so much. She appeared far too much at home as she rose between Chane and Shade. In his own quest to stop the Enemy, to locate the orbs, had he lost her? Or had she lost him?
“Go tell Magiere and Leesil what’s happened,” Wynn said. “If they don’t understand now, they soon will. When I’ve spoken with Premin Hawes, I’ll let you know everything I’ve learned. Then ... we plan our next move, and not before.”
Chap considered knocking her on her backside and dragging her off. Twisted as it was, Brot’an would most certainly aid him. But in looking at Wynn, it seemed even that would come to nothing. He saw there was truly nothing he could say or do to make her leave this place.
It was a deeply unsettling realization.
Still shaking from anger and fear, Magiere stood before the closed door. She could barely believe what had taken place. Wynn might believe that lines were being drawn, but for Magiere, if that meant a murdering undead like Chane was an ally, the line separating the living from its worst threat had been erased.
Over and over, she remembered demanding to know how Wynn could accept Chane’s protection. She couldn’t stop thinking of Wynn’s answer.
Because you weren’t there. None of you.
Had Wynn had no choice but to accept Chane’s help because everyone else had abandoned her?
Even amid guilt, Magiere couldn’t accept that, and, still trying to silence Wynn’s voice in her head, she turned her eyes to Leesil. She had no idea what to say to him. How could they just stand here and wait? Neither of them had ever been any good at that.
She believed in taking a fight head-on. He believed in coming at it from the side before anyone saw him. Neither approach seemed possible now.
“We should use this time,” Leanâlhâm said. “Who knows when we will have a moment again to do anything for ourselves.”
Unexpectedly, Magiere had Leanâlhâm to thank for easing the tension. She studied the girl’s slender face, smooth brown hair, and those startlingly green eyes that should have been amber.
“What do you suggest?” Magiere asked doubtfully.
Leanâlhâm stepped to the hearth. “Leesil, will you start a fire so we can cook?”
Her Belaskian was simple, but she spoke it well—far better than Osha, considering he was an anmaglâhk.
“Magiere, you help Osha with his words,” Leanâlhâm went on. “If we travel together, seek orbs together, he must learn to speak better.”
“Now?” Osha asked, though he didn’t turn from his vigil at the window.