“That would be kind.”
Lily did so in the manner Grandmother had taught her. “Are we agreed that we can skip to some of the business we need to discuss?”
“It is always a shame to curtail the more pleasant aspects of conversation, but you have a saying—‘needs must when the devil drives.’ I agree to this.”
“I have two points of immediate concern. The first is the other two hostages. Sean Friar believes you are going to free him, unharmed.”
“I have given him my word that I will do so, or, if I should die, my people are in turn bound to see it done.”
“I hope you will forgive a question asked out of ignorance. Under what circumstances would you consider breaking your word?”
“None.”
Lily lifted her eyebrows. “None whatsoever? Not to save your life, your world, a roomful of tiny babies?”
“I suppose if I were tortured long and artfully enough that my mind broke, the creature who remained might do any number of things I would not.” She picked up her cup and sipped. “A piquant aroma. Short of a death, which destroys the person if not the body, I honor my word.”
“I’m happy to hear that. Did you give your word about Adam King, also?”
“Adam King is held by Benessarai, not me, but he will act according to the code. What was your other concern?”
“I must ask you to return my ring.”
“Oh, surely not.” The halfling smiled at her over the rim of her teacup. “That is, surely you don’t expect me to hand you a totem containing…but your language doesn’t have a word for this. We call it arguai.”
“Grandmother is often vexed by the limitations of English.” Lily set her cup down in the precise manner she would have used had this been a proper tea ceremony. “I called it my ring. This was misleading. The band itself is mine, but the charm on it was entrusted to me by my clan. My honor—the lupi would say du—is involved.”
“I can assure you the ring is safe. It will not, however, be returned to you. Do try the berries. We don’t have their like in our realm, and I am quite infatuated with them.”
Lily had learned what she needed to. The toltoi did possess some kind of power, one the elves recognized. One they thought she could use. She ate some strawberries, commented on their sweetness, and asked if Alycithin planned to include strawberries in whatever trade deal she was negotiating.
“Perhaps, though I am not sure the plants would thrive in our climate. We are very interested in obtaining a good supply of duct tape. A remarkable substance, and one that will not be affected by the higher levels of magic in my realm the way your technology would be.”
Duct tape? Really? Lily dragged her thoughts back on target. “Excuse me for saying this, but you seem to be going about your negotiations rather awkwardly. Sean told me that your people consider hostage-taking an integral part of doing business. You’ve been here long enough to know that we don’t do things that way. In fact, part of my job is to arrest people who do things that way.”
That amused her. “And how long have I been here?”
“A lot longer than two weeks, obviously. Are you able to shift between realms without a gate the way some sidhe do?”
“You will find that my people take a long view. In the short term, your people will not appreciate some of our practices. In the long term, you will discover the value of doing business our way. Already your corporations are gratifyingly eager to import some of our wares.” Alycithin held out the plate of bread. “Won’t you try some? It’s from a bakery Dinalaran found, and is quite good.”
Lily accepted a slice. “Is Dinalaran the one with the SIG or the one practicing spellcasting over by the TV?”
Alycithin had eyebrows. They weren’t obvious, blending in as they did with the short, golden fur on her face, but she had eyebrows. She raised them now. “He stands behind my chair. Aroglian practices runic writing. You are familiar with such practice?”
“I have a friend who fiddles with spells that way.”
“Ah. Cullen Seabourne. The…your word is sorcerer.”
“The guy who made the device everyone is so eager to get their hands on, yes. Though I admit I’m puzzled about why you would want it. Your Gift works a lot better than any device could.”
Silence. One heartbeat, two…just long enough for Lily to be sure that arrow had hit home. “Whatever do you mean?”
Lily tore a piece off the bread and popped it in her mouth. Alycithin was right—it was good bread. She washed it down with tea. “Your Gift is really good at hiding things. You can’t do outright illusion the way the elves can—that’s why Dinalaran or the other guy does the driving, isn’t it? Going unnoticed works great unless you’re in the driver’s seat of a car. It upsets people if they don’t notice a driver in a car. But in many ways, your Gift is better than straight illusion. It’s not just that you can knock everyone out, though that came in handy last night. You can baffle wards and Find spells. You can hide whatever needs to be hidden. Coming like you do from a place where magic is used for all kinds of things, that must be a very valuable talent. A very rare one, too, I’m told.”
Alycithin tipped her head to one side. “You have been told things I did not expect anyone in this realm to know.”
“And you have not been told some things you need to know. Like about Robert Friar and the war you’ve landed yourself in the middle of.”
“Oh, that.” She brushed it off with a graceful gesture. “I am aware that he and your lupi consider yourselves at war. This is why he will trade what I want for you.”
Lily took another sip of tea and prepared to roll the dice. “Your realm must be subject to Queens’ Law.” The sidhe realms had many rulers but only two queens: Winter and Summer. The queens had great power and only a fistful of laws, but when they said “thou shalt not,” they meant it.
Those subtle eyebrows lifted subtly. “You know of Queens’ Law?”
“Some. There’s one that says no one is allowed to invoke a certain Name.” Lily ripped off another bite of bread, but didn’t eat it. She looked squarely at the halfling. “Do people in your realm know about Rethna? What he did, what he tried to do, and what happened to him?”
“Stop.” Alycithin turned to the elf standing behind her, who’d watched Lily closely the entire time. The one with the gun. She said something short and musical to him, then to the other elf. They didn’t like it. They argued—at least Lily assumed that’s what they did, because although they sounded terribly polite, Alycithin responded in a voice cold enough that their balls should’ve shriveled on the spot.
The two elves bowed and left. Not the apartment—they went into another room. A bedroom, Lily thought, though she only caught a glimpse before the door closed on them.
Alycithin turned back to Lily. “They do not speak your language, but they understand some of it. I would protect them from hearing that which can be dangerous to know. Why do you bring up Lord Rethna?”
“Because you haven’t landed in the middle of a war between Robert Friar and the lupi. The war is between the lupi and the one we don’t name. Ever. She is who Rethna invoked, and she is who Robert Friar serves. You may not be invoking her name yourself, but if you’re helping Friar, you’ve signed up on the wrong side.”
Silence stretched out between them. Alycithin didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. Lily’s heart pounded. She was gambling big-time now. Alycithin might not give a tinker’s damn who Rethna had served. She might be on the same side as Friar, already recruited into the Great Bitch’s service. She might simply not believe Lily.