Chapter 4
She was hiding something. Xavi was sure of it.
Her tale simply didn’t make sense. Not when she seemed so desperate. Not when she’d gone so far as to learn the night elf dialect well enough to converse in it.
And quite eloquently, too. Her accent nearly made his ears bleed, but it was clear that she was trying.
And how could she possibly be so heedless of her own safety? So bizarrely unconcerned by the danger he posed? She was alone. Unarmed. Utterly soft and helpless, and yet she showed not a trace of fear.
Perhaps she was a fool, just as the mercenaries had said, or perhaps she was far more dangerous than she appeared on the surface.
But either way, she was no threat to him. Indeed, she was the sort of gift he’d all but given up hoping for.
She wanted him to tell her a story? He would give her the chance to live one instead.
“Very well, human woman. What is your name?”
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t for her to laugh at him as though he were a child who’d said something particularly precocious.
“Are you trying to trick me?” she inquired, clasping her hands together and offering him a smile of unfettered delight. “I do at least know that night elves do not give their true names easily, and that asking for mine directly is considered extremely rude.”
That smile… Xavi shuddered as it hit him like the first blinding rays of the morning sun. There was joy beaming from every corner of her face, warmth and laughter shimmering in her gray eyes, and the sight made his shriveled soul quail in dismay.
This was just another bride. She was not allowed to smile.
“You are not a night elf,” he pointed out, a bit harshly. “So why should you need to hide your name?”
She shrugged. “I’ve always wondered if your people are right about names—that they have a certain power if used incautiously. And we are on night elf lands. It seems only polite to conduct ourselves according to your people’s rules of courtesy.”
“My people’s rules?” Xavi repeated coldly. “You are mistaken, little human. I have no rules but the ones I make for myself.”
And still, she did not shrink or quiver with terror. She simply sighed.
“You don’t know how I envy you. I wish I didn’t have to worry about rules. And honestly, I’ve broken so many in coming here, I doubt my family will be willing to speak to me again. I suppose it’s even possible my brother may disown me, but it will be worth it, if only…”
Ah, here it was. The secret he knew she was hiding. She was about to tell him…
But she abruptly clammed up and dropped her chin, a worried crease appearing between her brows as her lower lip caught in her teeth.
“I will tell you my name,” she offered, “if you will tell me yours.”
She was trying to bargain with him?
“A bold request,” Xavi acknowledged coolly. “But why would I share something so powerful with you for no reason? You cannot harm me, and you have nothing I want.”
It was not a lie, exactly. She didn’t have any thing that he wanted.
He wanted her. Needed her, in fact. He just had to ensure that she did not discover how very badly.
“You’re right,” she said, looking deeply disappointed. “I don’t have much of anything. Even less than before, considering that those wretches took all of our gear.” Then she brightened. “But I do still have my books!”
She’d wandered weeks into the wilderness of Dunmaren carrying books?
There was nothing to be gained by bargaining for such trifles, but he needed her softened to the idea, so he nodded. “Show me your books, then, and perhaps we will bargain.”
Her entire face lit up once more, and she vanished into her tent, reappearing only a few moments later with a bulging leather knapsack. “I had no idea what I might need,” she confided, “so perhaps I brought too many.”
Of all the absurd…
Somehow he kept a straight face as he surveyed her collection, reached into the bag, and pulled out the first book he could reach. It scarcely mattered what it was.
“This one,” he announced, only to watch as her face swiftly changed and she reached out to snatch it from his grip.
“No,” she blurted out. “Not that one. Any of the others.”
Suddenly, it was the only one he wanted.
“Why so fierce?” he asked softly, eyes narrowed as he watched her clutch the small, worn volume to her chest. “And should you not be willing to bargain something you value greatly for the unfathomable gift of a name?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. But this was my father’s. The journal of his travels. It’s the very thing that changed my life and sent me on this ridiculous quest for answers, and I… I cannot part with it. Not until I’ve seen this through.”
A quest for answers, was it? That, at least, was something he could understand.
“Then perhaps a different bargain,” he proposed. “Your name, and in exchange, I agree to answer your questions.”
Her lips parted. Her eyes widened, and she gazed at him with a look of such hungry eagerness that Xavi was momentarily taken aback.
“All of them?” she whispered, her eyes blazing with what he could only call avarice.
How many questions could this human possibly have? But it wouldn’t do to allow her to think she could outbargain him.
“Three,” he countered. “You may ask me three questions, and I will be bound to answer them.”
“With the truth,” she burst out, almost savagely. “You must swear to answer with the truth, or they are not of equal value to my true name.”
Xavi couldn’t help it. He smiled. She was not so foolish after all, this human, and in spite of her weaker position, she bargained as fiercely as any night elf.
It was as if the fates had aligned to bestow a gift so perfect he could not have designed it more exactly to meet his needs.
“It’s a bargain,” he returned smoothly, allowing no hint of his satisfaction to appear on his face. “Tell me your name, little human, and then I will answer whatever it is you most want to know.”
“I can’t believe it,” she murmured. “After all these years.”
“Name first,” he reminded her mockingly.
“Ryn,” she replied matter-of-factly. “My full name is Camryn, but everyone calls me Ryn. Except for a few of my stuffier professors who call me Lady Camryn Halivard, and my brother, who calls me Tiddlywinks.”
Everyone called her…
Xavi hadn’t felt this unforgivably foolish in centuries.
“You would have told me for free, wouldn’t you?” he asked, unable to prevent a little of his annoyance from showing.
“If we’d met in my own lands? Of course,” she agreed easily.
“My name has been shouted at me in remonstrance or derision so many times, it holds no power to hurt me. But as you said, I had nothing of value to bargain with. I had to create a perceived value in order for you to offer something I wanted in exchange.”
Mother of Shadows. Had he just been outmaneuvered by another human? First the mercenary, Sky, and now this one… True, he’d always been more gifted in direct action than fencing with words, but this was ridiculous.
“Well done,” he allowed himself to admit. And curiously enough, he meant it. “And your questions?”
She bounced on her toes and literally shivered with anticipation. “Where to start… Oh, there are so many things I want to know. But if I only get three, they must be the most important three. Which means…” She tapped a finger on her lips thoughtfully, her eyes wide and bright as she considered.
“My first question is…”
Xavi waited impatiently, his curiosity fully piqued. What could she possibly desire to know with such urgency?
A grin tugged at her lips, and she looked up at him with such mischievous glee that she appeared almost childlike.
When was the last time he’d interacted with a child?
“What is your name?”
Stunned, he stared down at her, a storm of anger gathering on his brow, and watched as the humor and vivacity vanished from her face.
And yet, he was not even angry at her, but at himself. How could he have overlooked such an obvious loophole? He was growing sloppy. Weak. And dangerously absent minded.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” the human said meekly. “I know. It was rather cruel of me. You don’t have to answer.”
“Oh, but I do.” Xavi inclined his head in acknowledgement of her victory. “The terms of the bargain permit no less.”
“If it helps,” she told him, “I swear on my father’s journal never to reveal your name to anyone, for so long as I live.”
Did it help? He wasn’t sure, because he was swiftly overcome by the realization that he wanted to tell her. He wanted someone to know. Someone not caught up in this nightmare existence of his. Someone beyond the valley that was now no more than a story to any other living soul.
And yes, he was aware that these feelings were ridiculously contradictory when he fully intended to drag her back to that valley with him.
“Xaviel,” he said. “My name is Xaviel ven Arazul.”
Her face brightened once again. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Xaviel ven Arazul. In all honesty, I don’t think I’ve ever been more pleased to meet anyone.”
It seemed she was telling the truth. How strange. And rather uncomfortable.
“And for your two remaining questions?”
The woman everyone called Ryn sobered at once and seemed to clutch her father’s worn journal even tighter.
“This one is a little harder to explain,” she confessed. “And I promise to tell you the reasons behind it if you want to know. But I have been chasing this answer my whole life. And I swear that I will never use this information to hurt anyone, I just…”
“You seem curiously reluctant to actually ask your question,” Xavi noted a bit sarcastically. “I find myself deeply concerned. Is it of great political importance? Do famines or wars rise or fall, or do lives depend on the details of my answer?”
“No.” Her eyes shut. “Or I suppose, yes… but only mine.”
If she didn’t ask soon, he would be tempted to change shape into something terrifying and growl at her.
“Answer me this then, Xaviel ven Arazul.” Her eyes flew open and fastened on his with earnest intensity. “I know you may find this ridiculous. And you may believe it is no more than a myth. But to the best of your knowledge, what is the true story behind the legend of the King of Mists?”
And for the first time in his very, very long life, Xavi found himself rendered utterly and completely speechless.