“I will be the soul of discussion,” Louise promised, her finger to her lips. “Or maybe I mean a different word!”
Elliot sighed and jerked his head in Dale’s direction. He was actually standing near Luke, which Elliot thought was progress, even though Luke was studiously avoiding his eye and talking to Serene.
“Oh, hello, not bad.” Louise whistled. “Thanks for pointing him out. This way I won’t try to sleep with him.”
“He prefers men,” said Elliot.
“Sure,” Louise said patiently. “But he hasn’t met me yet. Anyway, doesn’t matter, because I was hoping to make like Cousin Gregory and bag an elf tonight. Someone told me that Cold brought his beautiful young sons and is keeping ’em cloistered! What can I say, I like a challenge.”
“Do you speak elvish?” Elliot inquired.
“Um . . . no,” Louise said. “I don’t like books and learning, and I don’t need to bother with them, because: look at all this.” Louise gestured haphazardly to herself, all gleaming curls and generous curves, her scar stretching as she smiled. “Men look at it, and then they find a way to talk to me. You doubt it?”
“Um . . .,” said Elliot, and spun her and caught her, and they both laughed. “No.”
“Please don’t sleep with my sister,” Luke blurted out when he returned.
“Wow, do you think she’d go for it?” asked Elliot, winking at Serene, who shook her head at him in a severe fashion. “I mean, no way I could ever get that lucky, am I right? But if you really think I have a shot, I guess I could make a pass. . . .”
Louise was ten thousand miles out of Elliot’s league, and even if she would ever be willing to consider it, it would probably be too weird, but it was hilarious that Luke had managed to come up with this one. Elliot was trying to think of a way to milk it further when he followed the new direction of Luke’s scowl to Adara.
“Hey, Elliot,” she said, pushing her bright locks off her forehead, where they stuck as if she had been sweating. “Do you want to dance?”
“Sure,” said Elliot, and took her outstretched hand so he could spin her out onto the dance floor. He could not resist saying, with just a touch of malice: “I thought you were having fun where you were.”
Adara did not look him in the eyes, which was impressive considering they were dancing close and she was a tall girl.
“Mission accomplished,” she said, jerking her chin in the direction of the corner of the tent, where Natalie was making out with a Trigon player who had an overbite. “She’s having fun with him now,” said Adara breathlessly. “And I’m—I’m having fun with you. Aren’t I? And we could have more fun later.”
Elliot was about to snap at her when he noticed the slightly choked way Adara was speaking, as if she had misery stuck in her throat. He thought of the way Adara had reacted when he’d told her about Jase, the way she’d spoken to Natalie, and the fact Adara had told him she liked someone else. He felt lousy, suddenly, for being angry at her, for thinking she was performing when she was just like him.
“We’re having fun,” Elliot said gently. “But we’re not doing anything later.”
“Why not? Isn’t it enough to just have fun?” Adara asked.
She had to swallow a few times before she got the words out. She was even more upset than Elliot had thought. Elliot gathered her closer into his arms, made sure her face was hidden against his collar.
“Not when the person I’m with isn’t having fun. Not when it’s not clean—for fun, or for love, or because there is potential there for one thing to move to the other. And not when the person I’m with wants to be with somebody else more,” said Elliot, into her hair. “Never again.”
They danced, turning in slow circles. Elliot could see Serene turning her head to talk to Luke, the curve of her neck and the curve of her smile. Elliot could see Myra and Peter dancing together. Peter’s face was alight and Myra’s was not.
He danced with Adara until the song was over, at which point he left her: another boy was very willing to scoop her up in his arms.
“Didn’t expect to see you back,” said Luke.
“I must say considering what Luke has told me that I am surprised as well,” said Serene.
“Thought she was going to make a spectacle of herself again,” said Luke. “Some more.”
The slightly snide tone of voice he was using reminded Elliot of the way he himself had been thinking about Adara, before he’d danced with her. He felt the back of his neck prickle with a combination of annoyance and guilt.
“I don’t think anything she or I do is any of your business,” said Elliot. “Nobody is interested in your opinion. So keep it to yourself.”
He got up and made his way across the dance floor, to the other side of the tent, where Gregory Sunborn was sitting. He was quite alone but looked entirely satisfied with his situation, as he did at all times, and Elliot recalled the saying “the cat that got the cream” and also how he’d thought of Gregory as a silver lion.
“Hi,” said Elliot, and went over to sit by him.
“Oh, hello,” said Gregory. “Luke’s friend. Young Louise calls you . . . Little Red, doesn’t she?”
“I’m Elliot, but whatever. You know a lot about people, don’t you?”
Elliot was not making random judgements based on Gregory’s former profession as a famed courtesan for the elves. He had noticed that Gregory was among the few humans who could calm both angry elves and rampaging Sunborns and the general, and that Gregory himself seldom, if ever, lost his temper. If Gregory had actually seemed to care about treaties at all, he would have been an ideal ally.
Gregory smiled. “They’re my specialty.”
“Terrific,” said Elliot. “So if someone gave every sign of not wanting anything to do with you—if they left you, and didn’t approach you again, and said they weren’t interested in you—then they don’t care about you, right? And you should leave them alone.”
Gregory blinked. “I was hoping for something a little more challenging. Yes, you should leave them alone.”
“Okay,” said Elliot. “That’s what I thought.”
There was quiet between them that the music flowed through, like a river. Gregory tilted his head, as if appreciating the song.
“It doesn’t necessarily mean they do not care about you,” said Gregory. “But it might. Eventually, you have to stop waiting for people. If they care about you, they’ll find you when they can: they will show you. And if they don’t . . . after a certain amount of time and effort, isn’t it wasted energy? All light burns out. Best put yours where people will appreciate it and be helped by it, and make it last longer.” He paused. “Caring about people who don’t care about you is a very unprofitable use of your time, and I mean that both figuratively and absolutely literally.”