Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [17]
"Just leave it, Lhasha. Guests shouldn't have to clean up my mess. IH get it later."
Lhasha shrugged, and let the few papers she had picked up slip from her hands and waft back down to the floor.
"Don't… ah… mention this little mishap, darling," Fendel added. "I've had a bad stretch with my work lately, and I'm already under some harsh restrictions from Artificer Daragath. If he hears about this, he might forbid me from working without some kind of… supervision."
"Of course, Fendel. We won't say a word. Isn't that right, Corin?"
Corin, who had stood in bemused silence since being ushered into the room, nodded in agreement.
The gnome clapped his grimy hands once and exclaimed, "Forgive me, I'm being rude!" He extended his arm as he said, "Fendel Burrohill. Pleased to meet you… what was it? Corin?"
Corin regarded the gnome's gesture with a stony stare, and made no move to reciprocate. Fendel hesitated, then glanced down at Corin's stump and quickly withdrew his own arm.
"Oh," the gnome said, "sorry."
Corin made no reply.
Lhasha interrupted, breaking the awkward silence that hung in the air between the two men. "Fendel, can you help us? We're in a bit of trouble with the Maces."
"Right," Fendel replied. "The riot in the Fair. When I heard they were looking for a pretty young woman in outlandish clothes I suspected you were involved."
"Outlandish!" Lhasha protested, but Corin's own deep voice drowned her out.
"How did you hear of the riot already, gnome?"
If Fendel took offense at Corin's demanding tone, he didn't show it. "I have my sources," he said cryptically. "Not much happens in this town that I don't know something about.
"Funny thing, though," he added after a brief pause. "None of the official reports mention your missing hand. Guess the Maces didn't want to admit they were whipped by a girl and a one-armed man. Might not be good for their reputation as peacekeepers in the city." Fendel's tone was light, and his craggy face was lit by a mischievous grin.
Despite himself, Corin couldn't be offended by the comments. Something about the gnome appealed to him. Or maybe he was just grateful to find someone who didn't treat his injury with pity or revulsion.
Then they must not be too eager to have us found," Lhasha chimed in. "We were going to hide out here, but I guess that won't be necessary. But I still have a favor to ask."
"Find a chair with four legs and have a seat," Fendel urged, taking his own advice. "No need to stand while we discuss it. Another special item for your, uh… profession?"
Lhasha cast a quick glance at Corin as she found herself a chair. He ignored her and sought out a chair of his own. Despite his apparent indifference, Lhasha gave the warrior an explanation.
"Fendel sometimes makes special items for me, whenever I'm planning a job."
"You mean when you're going to steal something."
Fendel chuckled. "Your taciturn friend is blunt, Lhasha. Call it what you will, Corin, its a living. I'm sure Lhasha will tell you my rates are most reasonable and my creations most useful."
"Usually," Lhasha interjected.
"Yes, well… on occasion my inventions will go awry."
"So I see," Corin said, scanning the shambles that had once been a workshop.
That's not why Fm here this time," Lhasha continued. "We-that is, Corin-has need of your clerical abilities. For healing."
"A little nicked up from the fight with the city guard, are we?"
"No," Corin replied softly, "this is… more serious."
"Ah, I see," Fendel said in a knowing voice. "Your hand. Or rather, your lack thereof. I can't promise anything. My powers aren't that great. I'm just a minor cog in the machinery of Gond's church. But let's take a look."
The gnome slid his chair over beside Corin's, and gently took his arm. "Hmmm… seems to be an old wound."
"Nearly two years ago," Corin replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "In the spring."
After several seconds of intense study, the gnome pushed his chair back. "I'm sorry, Corin. I don't have the power to heal anything like this. Lathander's temple