woman who’d assailed him as if she were mad.
“Cah’lia, what in the Gods?”
Patrick watched in fear as Cah’lia unsheathed her dagger and held it up to his throat. “You aren’t going to be the one asking questions, Patrick—I am. Sehn might not notice your odd behaviors, but I assure you they haven’t been missed by me. What game are you playing at here?”
Patrick forced humor into his voice and laughed. “Cah’lia, don’t be ridiculous. We are going after a treasure. We’re all going to be rich!”
Patrick felt an explosion of pain as Cah’lia jabbed with her free hand, hard, in his gut. “You’re going to answer me right now, Patrick, or the next time I’ll be using my blade instead of my fist.”
Desperation, fear, panic, and even a little sadness—these were the emotions that crept into Patrick as he thought of what to say, and none of it was because of Cah’lia’s actions. Patrick didn’t know how much he could tell her; how much she would understand. But the Elven woman was too smart for her own good, and she could easily tell a lie from truth.
“Cah’lia, there are things in this world that some people would be happier not knowing. Some, I cannot say, not even under the threat of death, and others I can promise you are things you don’t wish to hear.”
She eased up a little, removing her fist from his stomach and easing the press of her dagger against his neck, but her voice remained firm. “I’ll be the judge of that. Start talking.”
Patrick kept his eyes on Cah’lia while he gently pressed down on the dagger and lowered Cah’lia’s arm, until he was no longer in danger.
“You have come to know me as Patrick, for it is truly my name. But others know me by another name. To them, I am Patrick Vasilis, prince-heir to the
Kingdom of the Seven Pillars
.
With a gasp, Cah’lia dropped the dagger; it landed with a clink on the bathroom floor. There was an expression of both fear and doubt in her enchanting eyes.
“Impossible. No, you lie!”
“You seem to pride yourself on separating truth from deceit. Tell me, do I lie?”
Cah’lia shook her head. She backed away. Patrick did not blame her. She couldn’t possibly know of the importance, the significance of his cause.
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “What are you doing here? With a single command you could have thousands…no, hundreds of thousands of men and women with sword in hand willing to do your bidding. For what reason could you possibly require us to retrieve this treasure for you? Why would one of the most important men in the entire world be wasting away his time with a foolish Elf who thinks he’s an immortal God!”
Patrick sighed. “Because Sehn has a gift, and for reasons I cannot reveal, only he can claim this item. I have spent years and numerous fortunes to discover the truth about Sehn. He was born with an ability that almost none possess. There is but one other who can retrieve this item, and this man is the very reason we have such a great need to recover it in the first place.”
“I don’t understand,” Cah’lia said.
Patrick felt a sudden pang of guilt. The Elven woman was becoming frantic. There was still much Patrick could not say, but he would at the very least try to make her understand.
“My nation and your nation, we are very different. It is true that Human and Elven-folk have many similarities—this cannot be denied—but at the end of the day we have our own traditions, our own hopes and dreams, and our own values. Yet there is one thing we have in common above all else. There is one thing that, no matter how different we may be, we share it just the same.
“Cah’lia, regardless of our differences the following is the truth: when our cities are burned to the ground, our children slain, and everything we have ever loved in life taken away from us, our pain is identical. Elven or Human, in this we are all the same.”
Cah’lia whispered, “What are you
“Cah’lia, what in the Gods?”
Patrick watched in fear as Cah’lia unsheathed her dagger and held it up to his throat. “You aren’t going to be the one asking questions, Patrick—I am. Sehn might not notice your odd behaviors, but I assure you they haven’t been missed by me. What game are you playing at here?”
Patrick forced humor into his voice and laughed. “Cah’lia, don’t be ridiculous. We are going after a treasure. We’re all going to be rich!”
Patrick felt an explosion of pain as Cah’lia jabbed with her free hand, hard, in his gut. “You’re going to answer me right now, Patrick, or the next time I’ll be using my blade instead of my fist.”
Desperation, fear, panic, and even a little sadness—these were the emotions that crept into Patrick as he thought of what to say, and none of it was because of Cah’lia’s actions. Patrick didn’t know how much he could tell her; how much she would understand. But the Elven woman was too smart for her own good, and she could easily tell a lie from truth.
“Cah’lia, there are things in this world that some people would be happier not knowing. Some, I cannot say, not even under the threat of death, and others I can promise you are things you don’t wish to hear.”
She eased up a little, removing her fist from his stomach and easing the press of her dagger against his neck, but her voice remained firm. “I’ll be the judge of that. Start talking.”
Patrick kept his eyes on Cah’lia while he gently pressed down on the dagger and lowered Cah’lia’s arm, until he was no longer in danger.
“You have come to know me as Patrick, for it is truly my name. But others know me by another name. To them, I am Patrick Vasilis, prince-heir to the
Kingdom of the Seven Pillars
.
With a gasp, Cah’lia dropped the dagger; it landed with a clink on the bathroom floor. There was an expression of both fear and doubt in her enchanting eyes.
“Impossible. No, you lie!”
“You seem to pride yourself on separating truth from deceit. Tell me, do I lie?”
Cah’lia shook her head. She backed away. Patrick did not blame her. She couldn’t possibly know of the importance, the significance of his cause.
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “What are you doing here? With a single command you could have thousands…no, hundreds of thousands of men and women with sword in hand willing to do your bidding. For what reason could you possibly require us to retrieve this treasure for you? Why would one of the most important men in the entire world be wasting away his time with a foolish Elf who thinks he’s an immortal God!”
Patrick sighed. “Because Sehn has a gift, and for reasons I cannot reveal, only he can claim this item. I have spent years and numerous fortunes to discover the truth about Sehn. He was born with an ability that almost none possess. There is but one other who can retrieve this item, and this man is the very reason we have such a great need to recover it in the first place.”
“I don’t understand,” Cah’lia said.
Patrick felt a sudden pang of guilt. The Elven woman was becoming frantic. There was still much Patrick could not say, but he would at the very least try to make her understand.
“My nation and your nation, we are very different. It is true that Human and Elven-folk have many similarities—this cannot be denied—but at the end of the day we have our own traditions, our own hopes and dreams, and our own values. Yet there is one thing we have in common above all else. There is one thing that, no matter how different we may be, we share it just the same.
“Cah’lia, regardless of our differences the following is the truth: when our cities are burned to the ground, our children slain, and everything we have ever loved in life taken away from us, our pain is identical. Elven or Human, in this we are all the same.”
Cah’lia whispered, “What are you
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