It is certainly true that folktales of elves and dwarfs are born of early interactions with the delkin. The similarities are too great to be mere coincidence. That being said, I would caution anyone from using either term to refer to a delkin in their presence. Or, at least, anyone who wishes their nose to remain unbroken.

* Many Peoples, One World.

Kalissa’s horse was an idiot. Not that she had ever met a horse that was particularly bright, but this one was an idiot among idiots, a moron’s moron, the grand chief nitwit of them all. It wandered off, it got spooked by random bits of scrub, and Kalissa had found it trying to take a bite out of a big rock on two separate occasions.

Needless to say, she was less than impressed with her purchase.

Sarina’s horse seemed to be much less stupid and Kalissa was regretting giving her the choice of horses. She had felt bad about blackmailing Sarina, but that had evaporated within the first hour of putting up with her beast as they trailed the Yarrls through the countryside.

“I don’t suppose you want to swap?” Kalissa asked, hauling on the moronic animal’s reins with one hand as she held the philoweasel in the other.

Sarina laughed. “You suppose correctly.”

“Did you know this horse was an idiot when you chose? I know a little about horses, but I didn’t pick it when we were back in town.”

“Just lucky. We don’t ride horses in the Del.”

“Too many trees?” Kalissa guessed.

“Or else too much swamp. Wouldn’t be practical.”

Kalissa made a noise of agreement and checked the philoweasel to make sure they were still going the right way. She had given it a small amount of Saladeen’s herb mix and, once it had recovered from the euphoria the mix had produced, its nose had tuned in to that smell on the Dagger and was pointing them directly at the Yarrls. It would only last a couple of days, but that should be plenty of time to track down Carlton’s murderers and put them in the ground.

“What’s it like there?” Kalissa said, trying to keep the conversation going.

“It’s like a lot of things.”

“Do you ever miss it?”

Sarina didn’t answer.

The rode in silence for a little while and then Kalissa said, somewhat awkwardly, “Look, sorry about the blackmail thing. It seemed like my only option to get at the people who killed my friend.”

“This is how you seek justice?” Sarina asked, her tone laced with irony.

“No,” Kalissa said with surety. “I don’t seek justice. I seek vengeance.”

“I have heard those words used to mean the same thing.”

“I once had a teacher who said that justice brings balance to the scales of the world. That’s not why I’m doing this. I’m doing it because I don’t have many friends and those bastards killed one of them. From where I’m sitting, that’s revenge.”

“You threatened my only friend with death,” she pointed out. “Perhaps I should seek revenge against you.”

Kalissa had a choice about how to respond to that. The safe play was to use the threat of the contingencies she had said she’d set up in the event of her death. The contingencies were completely imaginary of course, as the blackmailing plan had been a last-minute thing. But the reputation of Shadows as being incredibly prepared and competent meant that it was an undeniably plausible threat. She could strong-arm Sarina into helping her. But Master Vondash often said that the safe play wasn’t always the smart play. Kalissa had never heard of a Fada-sur being hireable for freelance work before, and she could be a powerful asset to the Shadows if Kalissa could get on her good side. Strong-arming rarely led to someone’s good side, but a little kindness could go a long way.

Sometimes the best option is to extend a little trust to someone. Not often mind you, but sometimes.

Kalissa moved one hand closer to a concealed knife, just in case. She might see the value in extending some trust, but she wasn’t an idiot.

“Okay, fair,” She said. “How about this? You can go back to town if you want to. Call the whole job off. You can even keep the horse as an apology. But if you’d like to stay on and complete the job, you’ll be well-paid, and I’ll buy you some more of that whiskey you like when we’re done. Either way, I swear I won’t tell Lhint or Bracken anything.”

“What about the others?” she asked. “The ones who will pass on the information in the event of your death.”

“I made them up,” Kalissa admitted.

Sarina seemed to consider this. “Telling me this puts your life in danger. I could murder you and end the threat.”

“You could,” Kalissa agreed. She left off the word “try” as she was being diplomatic.

“Then why?”

“I don’t think you’re the type to execute someone just for knowing too much. Besides, when we were drinking together, I felt like we could be friends, and friends don’t threaten friend’s lives.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Sarina said. “I threatened Saladeen’s life not long ago. But I think I should like to be your friend Kalissa. So long as I get paid on time. If not, we might have to revisit the discussion of the circumstances under which I am willing to execute someone.”

“Sounds reasonable to me,” Kalissa agreed. Then after a moment, she added, “Why were you threatening Sal?”

“We were negotiating the fee for my services.”

Kalissa snorted and adjusted her horse, which was drifting to one side again.

“Your relationship is professional then?”

“I’m always professional. I’m a composite professional.”

“Consummate,” Kalissa corrected. “What I meant was you and Sal aren’t romantically involved?”

“No. Are you asking because you wish to mate with him?”

The question caught Kalissa by surprise enough that she almost dropped her philoweasel. “What? No. He’s old enough to be my father.”

This seemed to confuse Sarina. “I don’t think he is likely to be your father. His skin is much darker than yours. That seems to run in families for humans.”

“No, I don’t think he is my father. That’s just an expression. I just mean that he is too old to mate with.”

“Saladeen is not too old for mating. He mated with many whores while we stayed at the Snake Pit.”

“Too old for me,” Kalissa clarified. “If I’m going to be mating with someone, I want them to be closer to my own age.”

“Ah, this is perhaps a human quirk?”

“I can’t speak for all of humanity. It’s just my preference.”

“Then I find your preference foolish. In my experience young men often make for inexperienced lovers.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Kalissa muttered wryly.

“That would be wise,” Sarina said, seemingly oblivious to her sarcasm. She was quiet for a moment then said, “It is wise not to mate with Saladeen though.”

“Why’s that?” Kalissa asked. “Too many whores?”

“Saladeen is strong and quick of mind, but he will take no vashtah. I would prefer you not be disappointed.”

“Vashtah?” Kalissa asked, not sure she was pronouncing it right.

“It is similar to a husband or wife, but also not.”

Well that wasn’t confusing at all. Kalissa pressed on as she was finding this interesting.

“And Saladeen won’t take one?”

“No. He believes that when he dies, he will turn into an animal and live again. And then when animal-him dies it will turn into yet another animal.”

Kalissa hadn’t heard the Lhintish religion explained quite so simply before, and she didn’t have any idea why that made Sal not want to get married. She said as much to Sarina.

“He believes he has already met his only love and that he will find her again one day when they are both animals, so he will never love another.”

It was only then that Kalissa noticed that Sarina’s tone was quite different when she talked about this subject than it had been previously. She decided to stop prying.

After a moment of silence, Sarina changed the subject. “If we are going to be friends, I should give you the warning Saladeen gave me.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Kalissa said.

“He said he guessed the men of the Silent Tower would only be a few days away now and that would be coming in force. He said Hunters were coming.”

“Do you know what those are?” Kalissa asked.

Sarina shook her head. “Saladeen said they are monsters.”

“That’s close enough. They used to be human, but the monks of the Silent Tower did something to them and they… aren’t anymore.”

“They are now animals, like Saladeen believes he will be one day?” Sarina asked.

“Ah, no,” Kalissa said, not sure if Sarina was joking. “The intelligence on them is sketchy, but what there is paints a pretty grim picture. Stories vary a little, but sources mostly agree that they are strong, fast, impervious to pain and that they can do something to negate shapers’ abilities.”

“Then as your bodyguard, I advise we avoid them.”

Kalissa laughed. “I think that’s sound advice. Thanks for the warning. We should be able to catch up with the Yarrls before then. We can sort out how to get the Dagger back to Lhint without getting killed afterwards.”

“You wish to return it?”

“Well I certainly don’t want to keep it. And giving it back will help Inveritus. So, yes, I want to give it back.”

“If its owners make monsters, they do not deserve it.”

“That’s probably true, but people don’t always get what they deserve.”

Sarina grunted. “Avec faerum navad faerum.”

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t sound the same in Humanish, but it means the world we make is the world we live in.”

“Humanish?” Kalissa said, struggling to keep the humour out of her voice. “We usually call it Cutso. But, in any language, I’d rather help my people than punish others.”

“Then you are seeking these Yarrls for that reason?”

Kalissa smiled. “Okay, fair point. But I have obligations as a Shadow of Inveritus, so the Dagger goes back to Lhint.”

Sarina grunted and they rode in silence for a while. Sarina began to drink from a bottle of brandy she had brought from the Snake Pit.

“We need to go over the plan for the Yarrls,” Kalissa said, her tone only slightly coloured by her top-notch archer drinking like a soldier on leave.

“Okay,” Sarina said, taking another long swig.

“I want to catch up with them when they’re asleep. That’s why we’ve been taking it slow. I can use the philoweasel and a bit of math to tell when they have stopped moving to camp for the night. The plan is we wait for that, then I get close and dose them with an airborne poison that should paralyze them and then I finish them off from there.”

“What do I do?”

“Hopefully nothing. Better to do this quietly and not give them a chance to fight back, especially since they have a juggernaut. But there’s a lot that could go wrong with my plan. I might miscalculate the wind, my countermeasures against the poison might not work, one of them might have a natural immunity or some tomological enhancement that prevents the toxin from affecting them, or a dozen other things I haven’t thought of could happen. If things go bad, I need you to start putting arrows in them and not stop until they’re dead. The problem is that I think one of them has a sort of tomology that gives them enhanced senses, so I’m not sure how close you are going to be able to get without them knowing you’re there.”

Sarina drank some more brandy.

“So,” Kalissa pressed on. “I need to know how far away you can be and accurately shoot.” Kalissa paused significantly. “After you’ve been drinking, that is.”

Sarina snorted, finished the bottle and tossed it. “It’ll take a lot more than this to falter my aim.”

“There’s an expression at the university: Claims without proof are just words.”

“Hah! This is a good expression. If your university was not full of so many soft-footed cravens I think I should like it. Very well, I will show you why I am fada-sur and you are not.”

Sarina strung her bow and nocked an arrow. She looked into the distance, took a breath and fired.

The arrow hit a birch tree a quarter-mile away. Not dead centre, but solidly. It was a good shot.

“To be honest,” Kalissa said. “I expected more.”

“Just wait,” Sarina said, smiling smugly.

She would say nothing more than that until they reached the tree. Once they did, Kalissa saw why. The arrow hadn’t been aimed at the tree and hit it a little off. It had been aimed at the moth sitting on the tree and struck it perfectly.

“Well shit,” Kalissa said, dumbstruck for the first time in a long while.

Sarina grinned wide. “In the Del we have an expression too: I am right, and you are not.”

“That’s an expression?” Kalissa asked.

“It sounds better in Delish.”