Pirate's Alley

I hadn’t planned this far. I didn’t want to cast Zrakovi as the evil villain. He was not an inherently bad man, just an arrogant politician who thought the ends justified the means. Plus, if Jean’s assessment of the preternatural power breakdown proved true, the elves and wizards needed to be allies.

 

The stakes were high. Rand had to understand that he couldn’t bully his way through this one. He had to play it smart and with finesse.

 

“Just tell me, Dru. You know I can’t read your thoughts anymore.”

 

Which was a good reminder that he could read Zrakovi’s. He’d even done a little mental manipulation on the Elder in the past. I had to be straight with him. Seems like I was being honest with everyone tonight except the man I most needed to be honest with, but I’d think about that later.

 

“Okay, but you have to promise something first.” I gave him my fiercest look.

 

He smiled, and I thought he was going to make one of his outrageous, suggestive comments. He seemed to think better of it, and the smile faded. “Promise you what?”

 

“That you are going to be calm. That even though you aren’t going to like what I’m about to tell you, you’re going to talk it all through with me and not get on your high and mighty ‘I am Elf’ horse.”

 

He looked a little offended but, after an inner struggle, managed to stay off the horse. “I’ll try.”

 

“Okay, I need your help.” God, I needed Your help, too.

 

“You know I’ll help you when I can.” Translation: I’ll help you if it furthers my agenda. Rand, I understood very well.

 

“There are certain people in our world, both mine and yours, who do not want your baby with Eugenie to ever be born.”

 

He’d already started bristling, and I sat up. “I’m serious, Rand. You stay calm and talk this out with me or I will zap you.” Thankfully, those responsible for hibernation rescue had, so far, all thought to rescue my messenger bag and staff, including the elf sitting beside me.

 

“Who doesn’t want my baby to be born?”

 

I hesitated. Thinking about telling him, and actually telling him, were two different matters. But Rand wanted his son.

 

He grimaced. “You might as well tell me. I can bore into the minds of everyone in that council meeting tomorrow except yours and Mace Banyan’s. And I know Mace doesn’t give a damn about the baby because whether or not I have an heir doesn’t affect him.”

 

I thought he gave Mace way too much credit but, at least in this case, his Synod leader wasn’t the problem.

 

“It’s Zrakovi,” I said, God help me. “He wanted me to talk Eugenie into letting me abort the baby using my Green Congress magic, or do it without her permission if she didn’t agree.”

 

I felt a wide imaginary T for “traitor” etch its way across my forehead. So I talked faster. “You have to understand where he’s coming from, Rand. The whole prete world is in chaos, and he’s afraid the baby will divide Elfheim and, ultimately, sever the alliance between the wizards and elves.” Even I thought that sounded cold and lame.

 

Rand’s inner glow had begun to spread across his face, and heat from his body radiated across the width of a sofa cushion. I still hadn’t quite figured out what that did for him other than make him look like a pretty Russian snow prince with a sunburn. It obviously didn’t prevent hibernation.

 

“Do not say a word.” I shook a finger at him. “Not. One. Word. You will listen to me.”

 

His jaw was clenched and his nod no more than a nano-dip of his chin, but it was a nod.

 

“The elves and wizards need each other,” I told him. At least this part of my argument was something I believed. “We need our people to be allies, and you and I can make that happen. We don’t know who the fae will side with, and the vampires are totally unreliable. We have to be smart about this.”

 

Rand blinked. “I’ve heard the people of Faery might oppose us, especially if Sabine dies and Florian takes over. He’s the Summer Prince, the eldest of Sabine’s nephews, but he’s a total fruitcake. It would be a disaster. Christof is a fruitcake, too, but Mace thinks he might be more reasonable.”

 

I didn’t know whether or not Christof was a fruitcake, but he was scary as frozen hell.

 

“But if Zrakovi does anything to my child,” Rand said, glowing again, “the elves will not align themselves with the wizards, no matter the consequences.”

 

“Are you sure?” I had to make him look at this without his emotions. “Think about it, Rand. Are you so sure Mace would support you with his air clan? Or Betony and the earth elves? Or Lily’s daughter with the water elves? Without the full Synod behind you, you can’t speak for the elves.”

 

Rand pondered this while he made more mugs of apple stuff.

 

“The question is, why does Zrakovi care about my son? This baby has no bearing on council business.”

 

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