Lord's Fall

There. She felt certain that the nearby quiet, intense glow of Power was Miguel, and that the weaker one was Eva. Then other, different glows came clear.

 

And there it was again, that slick, subtle patch of black ice. Certainty settled inside, and she knotted her fists. “It’s in the building,” she said.

 

“Damn.” Eva sighed. “Okay.”

 

Miguel said, “I still got nothing. I can’t pick up on whatever you’re sensing.”

 

“That means we have to rely on you,” Eva told Pia. “And if we aren’t going to leave, you need to speak up immediately if you feel it change.”

 

She nodded, frowning. Beluviel had been very kind to her, and it wasn’t the consort’s fault that events had given her a surfeit of houseguests and issues to attend to. While Pia was wary of putting herself in the shoes of someone who was so different in race, age and outlook, she couldn’t help but do so this time. Pia would want someone to tell her if something like that black . . . thing was lurking anywhere around her home.

 

She said, “I need to talk to Beluviel.”

 

Even in the shadows, she could see Eva and Miguel exchange a look. “For all we know, she might be responsible for it,” Miguel said, his voice pitched very low. “Needs to be considered.”

 

Pia shook her head and spoke just as softly. “I don’t believe that. It feels entirely alien from Beluviel’s energy, and even though there are some Powerful Elves here, it’s possible none of them can sense this anymore than you can.” She looked at Eva. “You know that experience I mentioned earlier? Dragos didn’t sense what I picked up then either.”

 

Eva sucked a tooth and looked sour, but she said, “All right. Let’s go find her.”

 

They walked across the clearing and up the stairs, and Pia stopped the first Elf in a house uniform that they came to, a woman with hair so blonde it was almost white.

 

“Please take me to the consort,” Pia said.

 

The woman regarded her with wide eyes. “Perhaps I can take a message and she can get back to you.”

 

“I know it is late,” Pia said gently. “And I know the consort has been very busy. But I need to talk to her right now, and you need to take me to her.”

 

The Elf’s posture grew rigid, but she said, “Yes, ma’am.”

 

What, you ain’t gonna tear her up none? I feel betrayed, Eva said telepathically. You lied to me. You ain’t got no bitch in you.

 

Keep pushing, Pia told her. And you’ll get to find out how much bitch I’ve got.

 

Sound like a good time to me.

 

Pia, Eva and Miguel followed the Elf through corridors and up a flight of stairs. They reached the end of a hallway where two attendants stood in front of double doors. Their escort spoke rapidly in Elvish, and one of the other attendants replied.

 

Pia asked in Eva’s head, Any clue what they’re saying?

 

Eva turned to Pia with her most limpid innocent look. They arguing.

 

Apparently Eva couldn’t straighten up and fly right for long. Pia angled out her jaw. She told Eva, I still hate you passionately.

 

Yeah, I still surviving, princess.

 

The Elves’ conversation had grown forceful. Finally the door attendant slipped inside the apartment while their escort studied the floor with her mouth folded tight. Clearly the woman felt like Pia had put her in a bad position, and Pia supposed she had.

 

A pungent herbal scent had wafted out when the attendant had opened the doors, along with a faint, unsettling whiff of blood. On either side of her, Eva and Miguel shifted into a tighter position until their shoulders brushed hers, and the invisible pincers at the back of Pia’s neck tightened as they waited.

 

She had lost her internal vision when they had traveled back inside, and she fumbled to retrieve it. Her concept of where the various sparks of Power had shifted with the change in her position, and that flat, black patch was so quiet and subtle anyway. . . .

 

The door opened again, and Beluviel herself stood in the doorway. For the first time since Pia had become acquainted with the other woman, the consort looked disheveled and tired. Beluviel wore a simple loose tunic and cotton trousers, and her long dark hair was bound haphazardly back from her face.

 

Pia’s internal vision settled into utter clarity. Whatever the dark thing was, it was in the apartment behind Beluviel. Could it be the emissary’s illness that Linwe had mentioned?

 

The strong, medicinal herbal scent, mingled with the scent of blood, wafted through the air again. Even though Beluviel held the door partially closed, Pia could see several individuals in the apartment behind the consort and hear quiet-voiced conversation. She glimpsed a few familiar faces of people she had seen in the main hall earlier that day. They stood in a tight cluster around a tall male she had never seen before.

 

All the Elves were striking in some way, and this man was no different. He had his own particular charisma, with gleaming chestnut hair pulled back from precise features, and eyes that were as green as the Wood and just as compelling.