It was you. The healer’s ominous words echoed within Daana’s mind as she gazed up at his stricken face.

Nevil’s hazel eyes were rimmed in white and his lower lip quivered. The worry lines marring the tanned skin around his face were noticeably deeper than before, more akin to trenches than wrinkles now. The elf held his hands protectively to his chest and edged a step backward. “It was your power that tapped into mine.”

“Nevil?” Larkspur called from the head of the table. Concern shone in her dark eyes. She was already halfway out of her chair by the time Nevil finished his statement.

“The dark entity is not consuming you. You are consuming it.”

“Say no more, Nevil.” Larkspur strode swiftly around the table and placed a firm hand on the quaking elf’s shoulder. “There’s no need to frighten the poor thing. Daana has been through enough as it is. I apologize if she caught you by surprise, my friend. It was an accident, I’m sure.”

Broken from his trance, Nevil turned and glared venomously at Larkspur. “You said she was magic-sensitive. I’m telling you right now, that girl is–”

“Is talented beyond her years, I know,” Larkspur agreed. For the first time since they’d met, Daana watched the cold mask slip from her mother’s stern face. A genuine warmth lit Larkspur’s eyes, coaxing the start of a smile. Even her words seemed less severe than before. “She is my daughter, Nevil. It is to be expected.”

The dread fluttering in Daana’s gut settled. A fuzzy sensation blossomed within her chest instead, matching the warmth of her mother’s smile. The feeling was infectious. It spread all the way to her head until Daana was so dizzy with joy, she was afraid she might float to the ceiling. Tears slipped from her eyes again uninvited. Hurriedly, she brushed them away with the back of her sleeve, hoping no one noticed.

Nevil stood with a puzzled look on his long face. “She’s your…”

“Daughter,” Larkspur said, still smiling.

“That certainly explains some things,” he muttered as relief vanquished some of the fear pooling behind his eyes. “A warning would have been nice. I’m more successful at warding off power drain when I know to expect it.”

“Again, I apologize. I was not certain of her lineage, myself. Until now, that is.” Larkspur’s gaze moved over Daana. Fortunately, she caught the unspoken question stretched across Daana’s face and answered without prompting. “Your powers work much like mine. To a lesser extent, mind you, but the similarities are undeniable.”

Larkspur allowed the information a moment to sink in before returning her attention to the elf healer. “Were you able to purge the infection?”

Nevil rubbed his hands together, attempting to warm them. “Not even close. I was able to diminish the infection, lessen the spread some, but it is only a temporary means. What is ailing your daughter is only a small piece of a bigger entity. The only way to completely remove it would be to eradicate the original source.”

“And what happens if we fail to do so before her powers consume it entirely?”

Nevil’s grim stare wandered the room, unable to look either Daana or Larkspur in the eyes. “Best case scenario, over the course of the next year, your daughter dies a slow, painful death.”

“And worst case?” Daana interjected when Nevil left the rest of his assessment unsaid.

“I don’t think anyone knows what happens when a mortal absorbs the ancient power of an old one. If it were the whole entity, you would die. Since this is only a piece, I cannot say for certain. Not anything good is the only conclusion I can offer.”

“Daana, I will do everything in my power to ensure it does not come to that.” Larkspur’s face grew somber as she drew inward, consumed with thought. Finally, with her mind made up, she turned to Snag and Ashwyn. “I have offered my best healer’s services, as promised. At this time, I can do no more for my daughter. Her cure lies within the powerstone currently in Oralia’s possession. Before we decide how best to retrieve it, however, we must address the recent breakdown in communication. It has become abundantly clear that none of us are on the same page.”

“Here we go,” Snag muttered under his breath as he took up the empty chair on the other side of Daana. He scooted it closer, ensuring there was enough room to kick her under the table if and when the need arose. From his firmly wrinkled brow, it was some small wonder he hadn’t already started.

Reseated at the head of the table, Larkspur studied Snag in the same way an apex predator watched a scavenger approach its hard earned kill. She leaned forward with her lithe hands steepled under her chin. “You really have no message from Oralia?”

“No.” He was still nervously eyeing the exit and trying not to look suspicious in doing so. “Like I already said, I wasn’t even supposed to be here. Just got guilted into it.”

The sage superior eased back in her chair, unconsciously gnawing the edge of her bottom lip as she fit Snag’s information into the wealth of thoughts stampeding behind her dark eyes. “May as well get this over with.” Larkspur gestured to Ashwyn with a halfhearted roll of her wrist. “Where is Ellisar? I was told she was at the gate last night. As much as I would love for us to continue avoiding one another indefinitely, my patience is running thin. There are a number of questions I would like for her to answer.”

Daana had never seen Ashwyn so miserable before. The orc’s long face looked like it was about to slide off onto the floor and wallow in a pool of its own tears. “She left.”

Larkspur raised a single eyebrow higher than the other. “I hate to pry, dear friend, but in what capacity? Did she leave in the sense that she is currently wandering the wilderness inebriated? Is she waiting for you to join her at the next closest settlement or–”

“Left for good,” Ashwyn clarified, her voice barely a whisper.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Oh.” After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Larkspur added, “You have my sympathies then.”

Larkspur at least had the sense, if not decency, to abandon her line of questioning. Such courtesy did not apply to her faun advisor, Havershire, who braced the flat of his hands onto the table and leaned out over them to get a better view of the grieving orc. “Is it true that all this time you were unaware of our activities?”

“You mean the resistance? Not a fucking clue.”

“Ellisar never told you?”

Ashwyn bristled defensively. “Are you expecting a different answer from me each time you ask the same fucking question? I already told you, no. Ellie did her best to keep me from getting involved.”

Larkspur’s knuckles rapped softly against the tabletop, garnering the attention of her advisor. Once more, the pair communicated through a series of meaningful expressions, each in turn growing more exaggerated in effort to sway to the other. Finally, settling back into his chair, Havershire conceded the argument. “This would at least explain why your call to arms has gone unanswered,” he said to Larkspur. “It is very likely that Protector Dawnsight is simply unaware that we have need of her here.”

Larkspur did not look nearly as convinced. She leaned further back in her chair, mouth twisting to the side as she glared at the center of the table with conviction. “I already don’t like where this is going.”

The elderly faun offered only an amused smile. It looked more smug than pleased.

“You’re going to propose sending a company to fetch her,” Larkspur continued. “I should not have to remind you that we just sent reinforcements into the United Territories to handle the rogue witch situation. I cannot afford to stretch my remaining forces any thinner than they already are.”

Havershire tilted his horned head at Ashwyn. “Then it is fortunate that our solution is sitting in front of us. After having sat in a dungeon all this time, I’m sure Commander Pride would be more than happy to take on the task and prove herself to you.”

Happy was not an accurate description of whatever expression Ashwyn’s face was attempting to pull together. “Whoa, slow down, mate. I barely just accepted Larkspur’s offer to be a part of this. Give me time to breathe.”

“We don’t have time,” the faun replied sharply. “There will be no part for you to play if things remain as they are. We need your sister. Bringing her here is a task for which you are uniquely suited, given her notorious lack of trust in others. You are our best option.”

“About that,” Ashwyn said with a pained grimace. “After what I dragged Oralia through last time, trust is probably the last thing she feels for me. Love, fondness, sure. I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can unburn the trust bridge, so to speak. Oralia is not likely to listen to a word I say.”

Havershire went quiet as he considered an alternative solution. With a forlorn sigh, the aged faun slipped the round spectacles from his face and set about cleaning the lens with the edge of his robe. “We have no choice then,” he said to Larkspur. “We’ll have to send Daana with her.”

“Me?” Daana squeaked.

“Her?” Snag shot to attention, choking on his surprise. “She’s infected, barely fit to travel! Would sooner sink in quicksand than find her away across the flatlands.”

“First of all, rude,” Daana said, narrowing her eyes at Snag. Her next words were aimed at her mother. “Secondly, who said I wanted any part of this? I came here for answers, not to run your errands.”

“You came here to save yourself,” Larkspur corrected. “I will not mince my words. The fact of the matter is, you are dying. Regardless of whether it’s the dark entity absorbing your power, or vice versa, the effects will kill you within the year all the same. Your cure lies within the powerstone, which happens to be with the very person whom I need delivered to my side. Our end goals may be different, but the answer to both is the same. Accompany Ashwyn to bring back both Oralia and the powerstone, and you will get your life back.”

Daana sat back in a stupor, processing her mother’s blunt words. It was one thing to know you were dying. To have it stated aloud, in such certain terms, hit entirely different.

“That’s all fine and dandy, Larky,” Ashwyn said, “but it still doesn’t negate the fact that Daana and I don’t know the way.”

Larkspur’s fingers drummed against the table as her stare settled back over Snag for what felt like the umpteenth time that hour. If her furrowed eyebrows were any indication, her opinion of him had not improved. “If only there was a guide willing to show you the way. One, preferably, who already demonstrates an unusual investment in keeping my daughter alive.”

Snag loudly sucked his teeth. “You’ll be disheartened to hear I’ve stopped taking on charity work. My services are in high demand. A lot of the deep-pockets types are scrambling to find passage between the territories. I stand to make a fortune on this upcoming war.”

Havershire leaned over and whispered into Larkspur’s ear. Her expression darkened as she listened. Reluctantly, she extended Havershire’s offer. “We will give you ten day’s worth of supplies, fresh horses, and ten gold now, with another ten upon your return and completion of the assignment.”

Snag’s lower jaw slung open, momentarily taken aback by the offer. “You’re offering actual money?”

“I could arrange to pay you in rocks if you’d prefer,” Larkspur replied smartly.

“No, no, uh, money’s good. It’s just whether or not it’s enough, you see. Awful long way…and, uh…” Caught in an unexpected daze, Snag was unable to form the necessary words to bargain. Probably wasn’t used to people attempting to meet him halfway right out of the gate.

Ashwyn kindly stepped in on his behalf. “Twenty gold now and another twenty upon completion.”

This seemed to do the trick. The goblin shook his head with a rattle of earrings, blinking up at the orc in confusion. “If I agree, you realize you’re on the hook to tag along, right? I only mention it ‘cause you didn’t seem like you were all that keen on the idea just a moment ago.”

“I’m not going to be much help moping around here. Besides, it might be good to see Ra Ra again. She always was the best at pulling me out of my relational slumps.”

Snag wrinkled his nose at her. “You sure you got the right sister? I seem to recall Oralia threatening to drop the others over the nearest cliff any time one of them brought up their romantic woes.”

“I said the best, didn’t I? A strong kick in the pants might be just what I need.”

“You have a…point.” Snag said, refusing to admit whatever Ashwyn’s point was, it was obviously a terrible one. “Well sounds like it’s all settled then. The three of us go fetch Oralia for, what was it again, fifty gold?”

Larkspur’s annoyed expression remained steadfast. Her voice cut back in with an edge as sharp as a well honed blade. “Fifteen gold now, and another fifteen afterwards. Final offer.”

Nobody said anything. A swift kick from Snag soon clued Daana as to why. Both Snag and Ashwyn were staring rather expectantly in her direction, awaiting her say. It caught her by surprise actually. All her life, Daana’s opinion had not been one held in high regard. Her wishes were often swept to the side with little to no concern. The moment might have been a tender one had everyone else in the room not been watching her like a school of hungry sharks.

“Fine. So long as long as you don’t make me step foot on another boat,” she said. Two sinking ships was already two too many for a single lifetime.

Ashwyn flashed her a pearly smile. “Hope you’re a strong swimmer then.”

“I’m with Tadpole on this one. No more water,” Snag said with a shudder. And then, in what was quite possibly the most daring move Daana had seen of him yet, Snag spat into the palm of his hand and offered it to Larkspur with a needled smile. “Sounds like we’ve got ourselves a deal.”

She ignored the outstretched hand, offering only a solemn nod of her head. It was difficult to see but, behind her mask of cold disinterest, Larkspur’s dark eyes danced in the flickering candlelight, reflecting the smile her mouth refused to form. It was the smile of a predator. All teeth and venom.