Chapter 42
The first thing Mitchell did when they crawled back into the tent was check on Allora. She remained unchanged, unbreathing, but not dead, her body still warm and soft to the touch. After confirming that, they settled in and were quiet for a time. Mitchell spoke first.
"The first thing I need to know is if fairies can lie."
Lethelin wobbled her head.
"No, they always speak the truth. Or, at least they truth as they see it. And the truth they speak may not be the truth you hear. But they can't knowingly speak anything that is false. That much I know for sure."
Mitchell considered her words before continuing.
"So, we can trust Luvari when she says that Allora will die without her help?" Mitchell asked.
"Yes, but that doesn't mean it's the only way to help her! There could be other options."
"How likely are we to find those options before Allora becomes a wraith and kills us both?"
Lethelin opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and stared down at her hands which were clutched tightly in her lap.
"I am a thief, Mitchell. I can't use magic and I never paid much attention to things like that. I didn't need to know! I pick pockets and I cut throats. But I don't know how to handle this."
"If I accept her offer, will you give her your blood?" Mitchell asked.
Lethelin crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly and looked away from him.
"Are you ordering me to?" she asked after a moment.
"No," he told her quietly. "I won't order you to do that. But I may ask you to."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I find another way. Or I don't and Allora dies and likely we will, too. One way or another."
Lethelin looked back at Allora's bone white face, all color gone from her skin. Even her lustrous black hair had become gray bordering on white.
"I think it was the fight with Dakath," Lethelin said, shifting the topic. "I think he did something. Or it was his blade."
"That was mentioned before," Mitchell said. "Something about his black-steel blade. And the bodyguard that was with Revos's cousin in Besari had two of them across his back. Are they special?"
Lethelin snorted.
"You can say that. They're made only in Deaj Reaal, the capital of Kazig. The making of the steel is a closely guarded secret, although that's not saying much when it comes to the cambions. Most of what they do they keep secret. Their society is sealed up tighter than a Iletishian princess's honey pot! But the blades can hold enchantments better than any other known metal. The blades themselves are deadly enough as they can break most regular swords and rarely, if ever, need sharpening. But if you have the coin to pay for enchantments they can be incredibly powerful."
"So you think Dakath had some enchantment on his blade that did this to Allora?"
"It would make sense. An assassin of his skill level and power would have had the means to pay for it. Getting a black-steel blade is hard enough. That he had one at all speaks volumes."
"Tell me all that you can about fey creatures," Mitchell said, bringing them back on topic.
Lethelin huffed.
"I've told you most of what I know already. The fey lands are a wild place that people usually speak about in hushed tones. Strange magic, stranger beasts, and beautiful and terrible creatures that don't know from moment to moment if they will kill you or befriend you. The fey do things for their own reasons and rarely does it make sense to outsiders or mortals. Almost every story that is told about them talks of bargains, though."
"How do the mortals usually do in the bargain?"
"Badly," the thief said.
"But the fey honor their word?"
"Yes. Their word as they see it, though. They always have an agenda. Usually several."
Lethelin looked at him hard.
"We're toys to them. They are essentially immortal and use us in their games for amusement. I doubt that Luvari has any real interest in us at all, despite what she says. I think this is just an amusing way for her to pass an afternoon."
Mitchell suspected she was probably right but that insight didn't give him any new ideas about
how to get out of this Faustian deal. He looked at Allora and then his eyes roamed down to the small pouch which was still tied to her waist. Inside were the three gems they'd taken from Dakath. Would Allora forgive him if he used them to save her life? He remembered her telling him that the quest was bigger than her and that if she died he was to push on without her but Mitchell knew he could never do that. Oh, he would try. He wouldn't just roll over and die. That wasn't in his nature. But he knew that their odds of success if Allora perished on this mountain were next to nothing.
Lethelin's voice broke through his thoughts.
"I'm sorry I can't be of more help," she said weakly. "Allora was right about me. I'm just Varset trash. If I had studied harder with the tutors my mother paid for, if I had paid more attention, maybe I could give better council. But I just don't know enough!"
"Hey, hey!" Mitchell said to her, trying to soothe the woman. She was trembling and twisting her hands over and over. "Come here."
Lethelin crawled over to him and he pulled her into his arms.
"I told you before, we're going to get out of here. All of us. I don't need you to be anything other than what you are. Understand?"
Lethelin didn't answer, but he felt her nod against his chest.
"Your path, for better or worse, led you to us. You saved my life and Allora's too. The girl from the Varset docks tracked a hit squad across two nations by herself and took them out one by one. She brought down one of the wealthiest families in Varset on accident and saved a young girl from a brutal rape in the process! Imagine what she could do if she really put her mind to something!"
