find ourselves in your presence again.”
Majeeda arched a desert-dry eyebrow at these words. "Is that correct?” she said, hiding her suspicions under the
thinnest veil of civility. "The manner in which you took your leave of my hospitality would seem to indicate otherwise.” Kandler gave the deathless elf a short bow. "My deepest apologies if our actions caused you any distress, my lady. We were called away in an instant and didn't wish to disturb your rest as such a late hour.”
Majeeda rasped at this such that Kandler thought she might fall over from lack of breath. The he realized she was laughing. "My foolish soldier,” she said, "do you not know that those such as I do not require such things?”
Kandler feigned disappointed shock. To nail home that effect—he hoped—he switched to the common tongue again. "Please allow me to double my apologies over this incident. We must have seemed rude in the extreme to leave so hastily. Please believe that we had only your interests in mind.”
The justicar looked to Sallah, who nodded regally. She seemed to see the need to pay Majeeda some respect, whether authentic or not, but she didn’t enjoy playing along with the charade.
Kandler felt something somewhere in the room thump against the floor. He’d been in enough fights to recognize it as a body slumping to the ground, and he coughed to clear his throat once more. Before he could say anything, though, Majeeda raised a skeletal hand to silence him.
"May I ask what you have done with the airship?” she asked. Her papery lips shook as she spoke, and Kandler knew everything turned on giving her the right answer here.
"When we discovered her, we realized that she must have belonged to the intruders you had mentioned to use during that wonderful dinner you served us. Since she had sat for so long, unused, we thought . . .”
The skeptical look on Majeeda’s face told Kandler he was losing her. He struggled to find the right words and felt himself starting to panic. His hand fell to his sword.
Dealing with Ledenstrae was one thing. That elf had something to lose. Majeeda, on the other hand, was not only crazed but powerful. She could probably kill them all with not much more than a word, and where would that leave Espre then?
Perhaps if he could unsheath his fangblade quickly enough he could kill Majeeda before she could cast a spell. Killing something already dead was always tricky though, and he would only get one try.
"That's how you found us,” Sallah said to the deathless elf. "Isn’t it?”
Majeeda stopped staring so coldly at Kandler and smiled at the lady knight. Her lips crinkled like paper around her yellow teeth. "Of course,” she said. "I am a seer of many things—especially those that I own. When something has been in my possession as long as that horrid airship, I know where she is. Finding her is as easy as closing my eyes.”
She did just that by way of illustration. Her eyelids folded and unfolded like ripe husks, and Kandler realized that he’d never seen her blink before.
"Why?” Kandler said. "If you know so much, then you must understand what Espre means to Ledenstrae.” He meant to speak around Espre’s dragonmark. So far, neither Ledenstrae or Majeeda had said they understood her horrible powers, and he didn’t care to tip that hand without some kind of confirmation that they’d already seen it. "Why would you help the people who abandoned you so long ago?”
Majeeda’s head wobbled atop her neck, and Kandler feared it might fall off. Instead, she spoke. "Don’t you see, my dear soldier? Your stepdaughter is my way back into the good graces of proper elf society. She’s my way into the Undying Court.”
The deathless elf spoke with such breathless glee at the end that Kandler thought her concave chest might burst from the rare stress of expressing a happy emotion. He nodded at the creature, whose presence turned his stomach more than ever. He didn’t want to incur her
Majeeda arched a desert-dry eyebrow at these words. "Is that correct?” she said, hiding her suspicions under the
thinnest veil of civility. "The manner in which you took your leave of my hospitality would seem to indicate otherwise.” Kandler gave the deathless elf a short bow. "My deepest apologies if our actions caused you any distress, my lady. We were called away in an instant and didn't wish to disturb your rest as such a late hour.”
Majeeda rasped at this such that Kandler thought she might fall over from lack of breath. The he realized she was laughing. "My foolish soldier,” she said, "do you not know that those such as I do not require such things?”
Kandler feigned disappointed shock. To nail home that effect—he hoped—he switched to the common tongue again. "Please allow me to double my apologies over this incident. We must have seemed rude in the extreme to leave so hastily. Please believe that we had only your interests in mind.”
The justicar looked to Sallah, who nodded regally. She seemed to see the need to pay Majeeda some respect, whether authentic or not, but she didn’t enjoy playing along with the charade.
Kandler felt something somewhere in the room thump against the floor. He’d been in enough fights to recognize it as a body slumping to the ground, and he coughed to clear his throat once more. Before he could say anything, though, Majeeda raised a skeletal hand to silence him.
"May I ask what you have done with the airship?” she asked. Her papery lips shook as she spoke, and Kandler knew everything turned on giving her the right answer here.
"When we discovered her, we realized that she must have belonged to the intruders you had mentioned to use during that wonderful dinner you served us. Since she had sat for so long, unused, we thought . . .”
The skeptical look on Majeeda’s face told Kandler he was losing her. He struggled to find the right words and felt himself starting to panic. His hand fell to his sword.
Dealing with Ledenstrae was one thing. That elf had something to lose. Majeeda, on the other hand, was not only crazed but powerful. She could probably kill them all with not much more than a word, and where would that leave Espre then?
Perhaps if he could unsheath his fangblade quickly enough he could kill Majeeda before she could cast a spell. Killing something already dead was always tricky though, and he would only get one try.
"That's how you found us,” Sallah said to the deathless elf. "Isn’t it?”
Majeeda stopped staring so coldly at Kandler and smiled at the lady knight. Her lips crinkled like paper around her yellow teeth. "Of course,” she said. "I am a seer of many things—especially those that I own. When something has been in my possession as long as that horrid airship, I know where she is. Finding her is as easy as closing my eyes.”
She did just that by way of illustration. Her eyelids folded and unfolded like ripe husks, and Kandler realized that he’d never seen her blink before.
"Why?” Kandler said. "If you know so much, then you must understand what Espre means to Ledenstrae.” He meant to speak around Espre’s dragonmark. So far, neither Ledenstrae or Majeeda had said they understood her horrible powers, and he didn’t care to tip that hand without some kind of confirmation that they’d already seen it. "Why would you help the people who abandoned you so long ago?”
Majeeda’s head wobbled atop her neck, and Kandler feared it might fall off. Instead, she spoke. "Don’t you see, my dear soldier? Your stepdaughter is my way back into the good graces of proper elf society. She’s my way into the Undying Court.”
The deathless elf spoke with such breathless glee at the end that Kandler thought her concave chest might burst from the rare stress of expressing a happy emotion. He nodded at the creature, whose presence turned his stomach more than ever. He didn’t want to incur her
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