Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4) by Craig Halloran Page B

always do.”
    Well, I mostly did. The Elves didn’t eat much meat. Not much of any at all. As a matter of fact, they ate very little.
    That was one of things that was different about Elome. There weren’t taverns like the other cities. Whatever they needed, they just plucked i t from the vines that cropped up everywhere.
    The Elves nurtured.
    The plant life fed.
    I plucked a fruit from a vine we passed and tossed one to Ben and another to Garrison.
    “Eat,” I said. “There’s plenty.”
    Brenwar was scoffing in the back. I tossed him a fruit. He snatched it from the air. Eyes filled with venom.
    “What’s this for ?” Brenwar said.
    “To eat,” I said . “It won’t kill you.”
    “ Dwarves don’t eat fruit! We eat beast. We eat stew!” He chucked it at one of the children.
    The light headed boy snatched it with his hand, nodded and took a bite out of it.
    “Next time I’ll toss him a rock to eat.”
    “Come,” Bayzog said, taking the lead. “I’ll take us to the Place of Meets.”
    ***
    The Place of Meets was marvelous. A gathering space a mile long and a mile high. We weren’t so unique there. Men and Elves consulted. Halflings and Gnomes appeared, shuffling by with smiles and intense conversations. Brenwar, arms folded over his breast plate, made it a point to scowl at each and every one of them. He took pride in being part of the tallest of the short races and didn’t hesitate to make it known.
    “Sit, everyone.” Bayzog took his place on a sofa carved in a tree with violet covered moss cushions.
    Sasha sat close beside him.
    “Sit, everyone,” he said again. “Relax. They won’t be with us anytime soon.”
    “You can say that again,” Brenwar said.
    Ben hopped from spot to spot. Sampling the foods. Tasting the drinks the Elven servants laid out. Finally he stretched out on a padded lounge and stuffed fruits and cheeses in his mouth.
    “Sit!” he said. “How about live? This room is the most wondrous thing I ’ve ever seen. I could live here!” He thumped his arms on his furniture. “Right here. This spot! Never move again.”
    An Elven maiden with pale violet hair and green eyes sauntered in with another tray. She was petite, pretty, eyes engaging.
    Ben choked. Thumped his chest with his fist. Took a drink. “Hello,” he managed to spit out. “My name’s Ben.”
    She nodded and walked away.
    “Ah!” Ben said. “Did you see that, Dragon? The way she looked at me? I think she likes me!”
    “I think you need to ease up on the Elven fruit juice, Ben. It’s pretty potent.”
    Sasha and Garrison chuckled along with me.
    Everyone else was quite serious.
    “What?” Ben said. “I swear she liked me. She really did.”
    After an hour, everyone had settled in. Chatting openly with one another. The Elven juice often did that to you.
    Brenwar groaned when he took a seat. “I’m sitting, but I swear I won’t be comfortable.” He combed his beard with his fingers. Grumbled. “Better not be no pixies.”
    Now came the wait.
    The waits weren’t so bad for the likes of me, Brenwar, Shum or Bayzog. But to humans like Sasha, Ben and Garrison, it could be agonizing. It was one of the reasons Men didn’t mingle with the Elves so much. Elven things took a long time. A simple meeting might not start for days, maybe weeks, unless you planned it out well in advance. In the case of us, our business was unexpected. There was no telling when they’d officially greet us.
    I took a chair near Bayzog and Sasha. Tried to enjoy the tunes of the Elven bards who strummed and strolled along. I was uncomfortable though.
    Waiting, which really wasn’t much of an issue with Dragons, made me think of my father. He always made me wait. Well, maybe not wait as much as Dragon things just taking a long time. But right now, I wouldn’t mind waiting to see him again as opposed to maybe never seeing him again at all.
    I set down my goblet of Elven juice. I needed to focus.
    “Thanks for bringing me here,”