Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [57]
"Evaine?"
The sorceress looked up, then smiled warmly. "Listle. What is it?"
Listle sat in the chair opposite Evaine, her silvery eyes earnest. "I need to ask you something." She took a deep breath, steeling her resolve. "What do you think of Sirana? I… I don't trust her."
There! She had said it. Maybe it marked her as little more than a jealous child. But Listle couldn't help but wonder if Evaine had noticed anything strange about the wild mage.
Evaine regarded Listle thoughtfully. The elf felt suddenly uncomfortable under the sorceress's piercing gaze.
"If you fear I'll believe your suspicions are motivated by jealousy, Listle, do not worry," Evaine said finally. "The wild mage is hiding something, of that I have no doubt. She is not all that she appears. You've sensed that, as have I." Her green eyes sparkled sharply in the firelight. "But then, you understand such matters well, do you not, Listle Onopordum?"
All color drained from Listle's face. She stared at the sorceress. How could Evaine have possibly known?
"Don't be afraid, Listle," Evaine said gently. "Your secret is safe with me. But a word of advice. The longer you keep a secret, the harder it is to reveal the truth. And in the end, the truth will be known. It's inevitable. You would do well to remember that."
Listle nodded. She could find no words to reply. Evaine knew!
"And keep an eye on Sirana," Evaine added. "It's up to you to make certain she tries nothing treacherous."
"I… I will," Listle whispered. "Thank you, Evaine." Trembling, she rose and hurried from the room, turning her back to hide the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
A moment later a figure stepped from the shadows and into the firelight. Beaten steel gleamed dully. A faint coldness tinged the air, along with a dry, dusty scent.
"She has a great deal to learn," Miltiades said quietly, standing beside Evaine's chair. His metal armor made no noise as he moved.
"Give her a few years, Miltiades," Evaine replied softly. "She hasn't had much time to come to grips with her true nature." She gazed up at the paladin. "Certainly not as much time as you and I have had to accept ours."
"You're right, of course."
"I know," she said with a crooked smile.
It was strange, Evaine thought. While she knew how formidable Miltiades could be in battle, somehow she had forgotten that his demeanor could be so gentle and gracious. It seemed a bit incongruous in a skeletal warrior of fearsome aspect, but Evaine knew it was the man he had been in life that was important, not his undead appearance. In fact, when she closed her eyes and listened to Miltiades speak, it was difficult to imagine him as anything but a living, breathing man.
Yet it was a reverie that was shattered each time she gazed at the yellowed bones of his face.
"You should go to sleep," Miltiades said after a silence. "If Gamaliel discovers you are still awake, he's liable to grab you by the scruff of your neck and haul you to bed like a kitten."
"You're not kidding," she said with a wry laugh. She sighed wearily. "But I can't sleep tonight, Miltiades. I can't stop thinking about the twilight pool and its guardian." She remembered something. "Here, I want you to have this." She pulled a small object from a pocket. It was an ornate brooch of gold, set with a single diamond-clear crystal. "I have a similar gem. These will allow us to keep in contact, no matter the distance that separates us."
Miltiades took the brooch. "I will not lose it."
"You'd better not!" Evaine said with mock severity. "These things aren't a copper piece a dozen, you know." Her face softened. "Be careful on your journey, old friend." Slowly, she reached out a hand and touched the paladin's gauntlet.
She breathed in sharply, feeling sudden pain, and snatched her hand back. His gauntlet was cold! Terribly, terribly cold. It hurt just to brush it with her fingertips. She looked at the undead paladin.
Strange, she thought, that his visage could seem so tragic even though it was devoid