Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [39]
There was a spark. The flint disappeared from his hand, and a cozy fire filled the room with warmth and light. He turned to Arilyn with a triumphant smirk, then froze. "Nine hells!" he blurted out. "You're an elf."
She banked down the rising flame of her anger. "So I've been told. Put out that fire."
"Why?" he argued in a reasonable tone. "It's dark, and it's cold, and that's a particularly lovely fire, if I may say so."
How could she explain to this pampered dandy her aversion to magical fire? He hadn't seen the miscast fireball; he hadn't heard the screams of his comrades, or smelled their burning flesh as they died in flames that refused to consume him. As she formulated a half-truth, Arilyn struggled to push away the memory of the Hammerfell Seven's death. With great effort, she kept her voice calm, her words objective.
"As you guessed earlier, we were being followed. I believe we've eluded pursuit, but I don't wish to risk making a fire while we're still so close to Evereska."
Danilo studied her, then as if he hadn't heard anything she'd just said, he repeated, "An elf. You're an elf. And your eyes aren't really green, after all."
He made the last observation in such a mournful tone that Arilyn blinked in surprise. "Is that going to be a problem?"
"No," he said slowly. "It's just that, well, I am highly partial to green. By Mystra, you're definitely not what you appeared to be at first glance."
"Who is?" she asked with asperity. She glanced at Danilo's waterlogged finery and added in an arch tone, "Except perhaps you."
"Thanks," he murmured absently.
Arilyn cast her eyes upward in disbelief. Still absorbed in his intent study of her, Danilo was oblivious to the insult.
"Wait! I've got it!" he crowed triumphantly, jabbing a finger in Arilyn's direction. "I knew you looked familiar. You're the person that the oaf in the bar was seeking. Ariel Moonsomething, right?"
So he wasn't a complete fool. "Close enough," she admitted grudgingly. She rose, feeling a need to walk about.
"How interesting! So what's your story?" Danilo asked, settling comfortably down for the evening's entertainment. He lay on his side, crossing his ankles and propping himself up on one elbow. Arilyn cast him a dismissing look and walked to the fireplace.
"No, leave it alone," he insisted, as Arilyn began to poke at the burning logs with a stick. "We're both wet and cold, and the fire will do us good. Just forget about it and sit down." He noisily patted the straw beside him in invitation. "Come on. Relax. You had them moonswaggled back at the inn with that fancy getup. That thug didn't follow us."
"I told you, I'm not worried about him," she said.
"If not him, who? We are being followed, you said."
"Were," she stressed, looking over her shoulder at him with a quelling glance.
Danilo Thann was not easily quelled. He rolled his eyes in comic disgust. "Were. Well, that clears everything right up."
Arilyn turned away, ignoring his friendly sarcasm.
"Look," Danilo said to the back of her head, "since I'm along for the ride, so to speak, don't you think I should have some idea who or what I'm up against? And where we're going, for that matter?"
Why not? Arilyn thought. Maybe the truth would frighten him into holding his tongue. She sank down in the straw beside Danilo, drawing her knees up tight against her chest.
"All right, then, here it is. Since you seem to be current on most of the gossip in the area, you may have heard that someone is systematically assassinating Harpers."
"Ghastly business," Danilo said with a shudder. His eyes widened. "Oh gods. I'm not sure I like where this is leading. You're saying that the Harper Assassin is after you?"
"You're sharper than you appear," she said dryly.
"Thank you, but how do you know? About the assassin, I mean."
Arilyn shrugged, trying to appear matter-of-fact. "For some time now, I've been followed everywhere I go. Several of my friends have been killed. I was