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Envoy of Allon, Sar el
Thallasi."
    She rolled her eyes. Pedigree. Trust an elf
to stand upon his all-important pedigree even when he was dying.
Eldren of Thallasi watched her through pale almost colorless blue
eyes. Taking a deep breath, she tried to make her own lineage as
interesting as possible. "I’m Kayseri Marea Bruin, daughter of
Lathan Bruin of Elhar and Lethea pixie of the Leafy River
Clan."
    A trace of a smile touched Eldren’s lips.
"Good fortune has brought me to the god worker’s daughter. You will
take me to your father."
    Fortune, good or ill, had nothing to do with
it. Mischief landed this elf in her lap. "I'm afraid I can't do
that. My father doesn’t like strangers coming to our home."
    Eldren squeezed her hand hard enough to
hurt. His strength surprised her. Kayseri caught her lower lip
between her teeth and glanced down the path stretching back through
the trees. "My Captain should be here any minute. I promise he will
help you."
     
    ***
     
    Kree rode the north road at a walk. What a
pretty pass he had come to, terrorizing his cadets by day and
chasing after half-pixie girls by night. In two days, Kayseri Bruin
had turned his well-ordered life upside down, and he had not felt
so alive in years. When he caught up with her, he would…His head
filled with images of Kayseri’s dark chocolate eyes dilated by
passion, her full pink lips swollen from his kisses, her glorious
raven curls spread wild across his white pillowcases, her pert
breasts pressed against—Kree banished these images. None of those
things was going to happen.
    When he reached the spot his cadet had
described, Kree reined in listening for another horse. Hearing
nothing, he silently lamented turning his back on his Goddess. His
curses felt impotent. The captain pressed northward. Given its
head, a self-respecting saddle horse would stay on a nice smooth
road. Having trained Mistral himself, Kree doubted the mare would
have gone far before calming enough for even a novice rider to
control. Still, he decided to ride a little further north, dismount
and walked back the way he’d come. Tracking in the dark was not an
easy prospect, and he was not the garrison’s best tracker by a long
shot. Chana’s skill would be welcome about now. He cursed his
temper. Losing it never served him.
    Around the next curve, Kree caught sight of
an overturned carriage. Moonlight outlined bodies sprawled nearby.
Dread knotted his stomach. Saber drawn, he kneed Storm forward.
Once he was sure, no danger lurked in the shadows he sheathed his
saber and slid off his horse. Close investigation revealed a fine
carriage, black lacquer with blue velvet interior and gold
hardware. A very fine carriage indeed, the sort elfin nobility
preferred. A small porcelain doll dressed in a fussy white satin
gown lay upside-down against the far door. He reached through the
window and plucked it out.
    Elfin. Interesting .
    Tucking the doll into his belt pouch, Kree
inspected the bodies. There were three in all, two men and
a...something. Both men wore Temple braids, but nothing else about
them indicated they were Templemen. Why would someone pretend
allegiance to Namar? Whoever they were, they died by mage-fire.
Even if he hadn’t recognized the signs, his sensitivity to magic
confirmed it. This had not been a simple working; his skin tingled
with its echo.
    The third body was a puzzle. It was an elf.
At least Kree thought it was judging from its ears, but he had
never seen an elf as tall as this one nor quite so alien looking.
The Thallasi, with whom duty forced him to deal, looked almost
human aside from their pointed ears. There was nothing human in
this elf’s fierce frozen beauty.
    The confusion of tracks told Kree a large
party had attacked the carriage. Half a dozen sets of prints headed
south and another group moved west toward Malachite. No surprise
there. Malachite was a cesspool for the discontented. On the far
side of the road, he came upon a set of narrow prints