Page 80 of In Darkness Forged
“The venom?”
She opened her hand, and Vanadar plucked the vial from her palm, turning almost immediately to a younger night elf standing nearby.
“Go,” he said urgently, and the other left the hall at a run as Vanadar turned back to Aislin. “And now we can only wait.”
Aislin turned her head and sought out Tal, but he remained still and watchful, with no sign that he was anxious to claim his own prize.
Those around her exchanged glances, but none dared speak until Vanadar broke the silence, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
“What then was your part in this, Talyn ven Danael?”
“I owe you no explanation, Regent. The deed is done.”
Vanadar’s eyes grew harder. “Understand that you are owed nothing unless the Marlord lives.”
Tal regarded him impassively. “I have no reason to doubt the efficacy of the cure. Unless your lord is dead already.”
The moments ticked past, and Aislin began to look longingly at the benches around the periphery of the room. There was no way to know how long this might take. In Tal’s case…
She did not want to remember. Did not want to recall that she had given up too soon and left him for dead.
The room around them gradually filled still further, the number of onlookers growing as rumors spread that their Marlord’s life may yet be spared.
Aislin began to feel uneasy at the press of hostile strangers, but Tal… The other night elves still gave him a wide berth. No matter how ragged his appearance, there was no mistaking his power, even when it was cloaked behind his formidable strength of will.
At length, the night elf who had taken the venom returned, his eyes wide and his mouth slack with awe. “The Marlord is awake!”
They had done it.
The tension broke. Awed voices and cries of jubilation rose and fell around the room. Aislin released her breath in a long sigh and turned to Tal. “You’ve won,” she murmured, but he showed no sign of triumph, and his eyes did not leave Vanadar.
The regent’s shoulders slumped with a relief so profound, Aislin was surprised he did not collapse altogether.
“It is well,” he murmured, his eyes closing as his arms fell to his sides. “All will be well.”
“Will it?” Tal had finally broken his silence, and Aislin winced at the menace in his tone. “Tell me, Vanadar. Where is Paendreth?”
The regent’s eyes opened, and he regarded Tal with his lips pressed together in a flat line. “Do you still wish to throw away your miraculous survival on a useless challenge?”
“It is my life to throw away,” Tal said flatly. “And you promised to convince the Marlord to grant me my desire.”
Vanadar raised his voice to be heard over the sounds of exultation.
“Send for Paendreth.”
Someone left, and the air of celebration left with him, only to be replaced by renewed tension and a low hum that signaled anticipation of violence.
Death rode the air, and everyone knew it.
Paendreth’s entrance occurred with remarkably little fanfare. Though Aislin had never seen him before, it would have been difficult to miss the moment when every eye fixed on a man standing on the periphery of the room, near a small door on the opposite side from where she and Tal waited.
He was tall—perhaps taller than Tal—but slender, like a sapling beside a mature oak. His white hair was gathered at the nape of his neck, and his hands were bare. Aislin noted curiously that he was also conspicuously lacking in weapons and wore no cloak or jacket that could have concealed them.
His face was not unhandsome, but it bore a slight sneer that pulled unpleasantly at his mouth. And when Aislin focused on his hands, she could see that his fingers clenched and unclenched, twitching continually despite the deceptive stillness of his features.
When Tal caught sight of the newcomer, his posture changed in the span of a single heartbeat—from watchful waiting to lurking predator. His control fell away, and the vast swell of his power filled the room, prickling against Aislin’s skin like thousands of tiny needles, raising the hair on her arms and begging her to be afraid.
Tal’s boots made no sound as he stepped forward, moving towards Paendreth with long liquid strides until he stood a mere arm’s length from the one he’d waited so long to confront. Aislin did not even see him move, but suddenly Tal’s dagger was in his hand, its point resting at the other night elf’s throat.