"Tlork put you?" Tlork said. "You prisoner. Tlork guard."
"And an excellent job you're doing with that." She spread her hands and laughed brightly. "I thought I could escape, but apparently I was wrong. Silly me, eh, guard?"
"What?" Tlork was confused-a sensation familiar to him. "Tlork guard."
"And a wonderful job you're doing with that," she said.
Tlork would not be undone so easily. "But you out."
"No, I'm in."
Tlork was lost.
Twilight stretched languidly on her stone pallet and rested her head on her hands. She would enjoy this immensely.
"You out," Tlork said.
"Oh," she said, feigning confusion. "You want me to come out?"
"No." Tlork paused. "But you out."
She shrugged, rose, and dusted herself. "Well, if you say so, but I was getting quite comfortable in here. It's rather nice, isn't it? Despite the misery and decrepitness-right, Lee, Late, Li…?"
"Liet." The youth groaned from the corner in which he had curled into a ball.
"Right," said Twilight, not looking away from Tlork. "But since you're being so insistent, I might just pop out for a spell. I mean, not literally, you know." Unfortunately, Liet was a little too dazed and Tlork a little too dumb to appreciate that witticism. "At your insistence, of course."
Tlork's answer came in the form of an incoherent grunt.
"Eh? I think I missed that, handsome," Twilight said.
"You in."
"You said I should come out."
"No, you…" Tlork's head almost made an audible grinding sound as he fought for the right verbiage. "You stay in. But you… out. Was out."
The way he said it, one would think his use of the past tense a grand victory.
"I was out," Twilight said, slowly. "Oh! You must mean before you put me in."
"No. After."
"After we're speaking? Oh, don't jest! I know that hasn't happened yet."
"No. Before." Tlork's head visibly ached from the complex concepts.
"Before you put me in, yes?"
The troll finally gave up trying to make himself understood, gave an impotent snarl, and stamped off down the hall. Twilight imagined he was trying to make sense of a situation impossible to understand without a child's grasp of tense and grammar. She rubbed her hands together, stretched where she stood, and looked around.
Twilight was not surprised to find Liet still in the cell. In the brief moment in which she had formed an impression of him- before seriously compromising his fathering capabilities-the human had not struck her as particularly experienced or strong, overly courageous or bold, or for that matter, armed.
"Well… done," he managed from the corner. "Bold… and ruth… less…"
"I have plenty of ruth. I just know when to use it and when to ignore it."
"I… see…"
She lay down again and contemplated the ceiling. "Really, trolls should all have tattoos that say, 'This one's stupid.' I guess whoever altered that one forgot to add a brain while he was mucking around with everything else."
A groan was the only reply forthcoming.
"Oh, come now," Twilight said. "You've had the count of at least three hundred to recover. Don't tell me you're still crippled."
"Only my pride," said Liet. "And the fact is, lass-"
"Don't call me that," said Twilight. "I'm five times your age."
"Maid-"
"Not a maid either. None too young or overly innocent."
Liet flushed. From his expression, he hadn't considered it. "Then lady-"
"Not that either. Neither that old nor that rich, lad-of-twenty-eight-winters-or-so."
"How do you know how old I am?"
"Trade secret."
Liet seemed hesitant to accept that answer, but since no other was coming, it would have to do. "Well. The fact is… you hit really hard."
Twilight rolled her eyes. She had to admit that bit.
She swung down-not complaining to be off the filthy pallet-and helped Liet up. He was handsome, with sandy, wavy hair. Other than the oddity of his mismatched eyes, she saw nothing remarkable about him. Not much in the way of muscle, even less grace, and a glass jaw-or, rather, groin. If he could've faced a goblin, fully armed and girded, and not soiled his breeches, Twilight would have been surprised.
She looked down at his hand clasping hers. Good grip, though.
"My thanks." Liet placed his hands protectively over his midsection. One of his sleeves slipped a finger's breadth and revealed gray, puckered flesh beneath. This one had been tortured, perhaps. He saw the gap, reddened, and covered the wrist.
Twilight yawned and returned to her pallet. There she flopped, letting one leg swing, and stared at the ceiling. The boy let out a breath and limped to his pallet.
A pause filled the space between them.
"So what do I call you, then?"
Twilight's pale eyes flicked in his direction. "Hmm?"
"Besides lass or lady, that is," said Liet with a shaky smile.
"The Fox-at-Twilight-princess of elves, seducer of kings, lover of gods. Shadowdancer and divine seeker." She made the titles suitably grandiose-convincing. Two of those were actually true. Then she yawned. "You can call me 'Light."
Liet blinked at her. "What kind of a name-"
"First rule, brightblade," she said, holding up a finger without looking at him. "No questions about me."
"But-"
"Second rule, jack: No questions about the rules."
"Well." Liet fidgeted, twisting his fingers in a way that looked almost like spellcasting. Twilight didn't feel the familiar resonance that would have meant use of the Art, though she supposed the aura of anti-magic would have spoiled it.
"Any other rules I should know about?" asked Liet. "I wouldn't want to break any of them accidentally-consequences, you know." He gave an unconvincing chuckle.
She examined the nails on her left hand. With her right, she held up three fingers.
"Aye?"
"No stabbing me in the back, and I won't return the favor." One finger uncurled.
"Simple enough." Liet shrugged. He pointed at her last raised finger. "And?"
A brief smile flickered across Twilight's face. "No falling in love with me."
Liet snorted. "Well, that's easy," he said. "I assure you, oh lovely hipskirts…"
He paused, perhaps to see if she had taken offense to that remark, which she hadn't. It was a somewhat more polite version of the phrase "pretty woman" than she was used to on the streets of Waterdeep or Westgate.
This was not, of course, to imply that she failed to address it.
"Oh, come now, lad," she said. "Longclaws, that's more appropriate, or slickhips, perhaps-as opposed to lickhips, which I don't recommend saying to anyone. Or, kisscloak, if you're feeling flirtatious. Or, if you feel witty-"
"Ahem!" Liet went even redder and hurriedly finished his thought, cutting her off there. "Oh, lovely hipskirts who shows little regard for my manhood-I shall have no difficulty with your rule the fourth." He thought he was being funny.
Twilight pursed her lips and nodded. "Oh, I have no doubt."
"You don't believe me?"
"About as much as I believe any jack on thy side of the court with oiled and sharpened arms." This was as if to say not at all. "But I digress. You believe you can follow these rules?" Languidly, she put out a delicate hand.
"To be certain," said Liet as he took it. "But why?"
"Welcome aboard," said Twilight, "partner."
"Partner in what?"
"Our grand escape."
Now it was Liet's turn to look unconvinced. "Very well, then-excellent jest."
"You don't believe me?"
"Oh, I have no doubt," Liet said, imitating her sarcastic tone.
"I see." Twilight drew out the shard of iron she had taken from the torture chamber and twirled it between her fingers. "Well, I shall simply have to disappoint."
"Did you see t
hat mountain of a guard? With the big hammer, aye?"
Twilight shrugged noncommittally. "I've seen stranger things."
She lay back. Reverie would not come-she knew that, of course-and her mind was too active to permit sleep, but it didn't matter.
"So why'd you return?" Liet asked after a five-count. "You could've escaped."
"That was just scouting."
"Scouting." Liet laughed ruefully. "I don't think he'll fall for that again."
Twilight just smiled and closed her eyes.
Torchlight flickering, Gestal stared at her, eyes not a hand's breadth from her face. Lord Divergence knew she feigned sleep-her breath was soft and regular. She waited to enact her plan.
Rid of her troublesome amulet, he could watch the elf directly. He'd taken steps to ensure that would not change when she found it again, as well. For now, though, he could not reach into her mind-only cut through the webs she weaved so deftly.
"Your lies fail to impress," he mused.
Gestal considered how she had dealt with the boy-ruthlessly, brutally. The scarred hand hovered over her cheek, wondering at its softness.
Was this the one? he wondered.
He would soon find out.
CHAPTER TWO
Liet awoke with a yawn, opening his mouth almost as wide as the cell door.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wishing he still dreamed-a welcome state, compared to this cell. Tragically, no gold dragons burst through the ceiling to rescue him, and no scantily clad warrior maidens manifested to resolve his… concerns. He sighed.
The door.
Liet blinked, wondering if he were still dreaming and the maidens were just playing coy. Sure enough, the portal stood wide open, admitting smoke from the guttering torches into the cell. He was suddenly afraid.
"Ah?" Liet rose unsteadily. "Uh-lady? Elf? Where-?"
A serious face appeared around the side of the door, a face that seemed familiar. The one who had pummeled him. "You're awake," the elf said.
He realized he should probably be angry, seeing how she had him so unfairly, but he kept calm. "Uh, I–I am. Awake. Yes. Aye."
"I was wondering if you'd need a kiss."
Liet blinked. "Wh-what?"
"Silence, lad," Twilight said. "Trolls are notoriously light sleepers."
"Truly?" Liet asked, freezing.
"No," she replied, "but silence anyway."
She vanished, but returned an instant later. Seeming to glide through the shadows, she clutched his arm, making him start, even though he had been watching for her.
"Is… is it safe?" His voice was meek.
"Safer than staying there," Twilight said. "You'd best stay by my side, boy." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't worry-I won't pounce on you any time soon."
"Pounce on me?"
She winked. "Keep up!"
Then she was gone.
Liet fumbled after her, groping his way into the darkness. "Wait!"
Twilight abandoned the youth in the dank cell and returned to where she'd left the gigantic key ring in front of the door opposite her own. She knelt beside it and tested the twenty-second of the thirty or so keys. The cell was completely silent, though a small form huddled on the pallet across from her, watching her activities keenly.
After a time, a gasp came from behind her, and Twilight glanced back. Liet was standing there, hand on his chest. " 'Tis merely me." Twilight tried another key. It fit, but wouldn't turn. "Though I'm never 'merely,' as you shall discover."
"I'll take your word." He scurried to her side and knelt down. "Wh-where…?"
"Asleep at the end of the hall," Twilight said. When Liet sucked in a breath, she rolled her eyes. "Easy-I've secured him."
"Secured him?"
"That's what I said." She tried the twenty-fourth key. No good. It might have been faster to pick this lock. "At least a candle's life, I think, before he comes after us."
"Then what?"
"I imagine we'd do well to escape by then, eh?" The padlock clicked open finally, and the door shivered. She wondered why this prisoner was kept in silence.
Then a small form struck her in a flying tackle. "Oh, thank-you-thank-you-thank-you!" the prisoner said in a girlish voice. She squeezed Twilight as though to choke the air from her lungs. "Oh gods, it was dreadful! Dreadful! But now I'm free! Thank you, most divine mistress! Oh, thank Yondalla for you!"
"Well… met," Twilight managed, her words stifled. "I'm… Twilight…"
"Well met!" cried the prisoner, ignoring Liet entirely. "I'm Billfora Brightbrows, but my friends call me Slip, and you can, too, as it pleases you, Mistress Twilight!"
Liet chuckled-for which Twilight vowed to knee him again.
"Yes… just…" she choked. "Get… off."
Slip was off her with a bound, and blessed-albeit stagnant and putrid-air returned. "Yes, Mistress!" she said. "Thank the Mother! Thank all her daughters! They kept me in that silence for so long, but you freed me! Oh, what a great, joyous day!" She looked around. "Where are we?"
"That's Liet," Twilight said, pointing at the youth hesitantly, but the little woman was gazing all around, completely oblivious, her mouth running at fifty leagues a candle. Now Twilight understood why she'd been given the silent treatment.
"You're a halfling?" Liet asked.
"Halfling?" Slip asked without looking. "Half-human? Half-elf? Dwarf? Troll?"
"Ah," Liet said. "You know… like a… halfling. The wee folk."
"Oh." Slip finally looked at him, and blinked. She stared at him for a long time, as though struggling to recognize him-or his words. She shrugged. "Well, yes."
Now it was Twilight's turn to grin. "Do you know anything about picking locks?"
"Yes, yes!" Slip laughed. "Back in Crimel, I was the best lock-picker of the whole lock-picking bunch. We had contests! Though…" She looked at the tattered robe she wore. "Usually I had my tools."
"I see." Twilight stuck her head in the cell and all sound vanished. She leaned into another universe, where only the spaces between objects existed. Unnerving.
She straightened and sound returned. "Anyone else in there?"
"Nope!" Slip said. "Just me!"
"Very well," Twilight said. "Come with us. We're organizing an escape. But quietly-our guard may be a light sleeper."
"Yes, Mistress!" Slip shouted. When the elf gave her an icy look, she lowered her voice. "Yes, Mistress. Whatever you command, I obey. My life and body are yours."
Liet reddened and Twilight rolled her eyes. What a child. "Good."
She handed Slip the key ring. "Open the other cells and gather all the prisoners. That"-she pointed down the main corridor, away from Tlork's chamber, toward a wide room that might once have been a guard station-"will do quite well."
The halfling gave her the widest of grins and scampered off.
"Just like that?" Liet blinked. "Why trust her?"
Twilight shrugged. "Why not trust her?" she asked. "After all, I own her life and body, as you noted in such manly fashion."
"N-nay." Liet's face went red. "I didn't-I meant, why'd you give her the keys?"
Twilight plucked up her shard of iron. "The Hells I'm going through that again."
In wonder, Liet watched the black-haired elf work.
Eyes closed, she knelt before a heavy lock, fingers twisting and prying with the shard of iron. Every so often, she laid her fingers gently upon the lock's surface and paused. Then she would press her ear against the door, peering up at the lock from below.
He realized he hadn't looked at the elf closely, up until this moment. It was not necessarily a beautiful face, but a certain edge caught his mind as he looked upon her and her image bounced back and forth in his mind, unwilling to leave. She had skin like alabaster and features delicate as porcelain, and her hair seemed so black as to be almost blue. He found that he couldn't identify the color of her eyes-gray, blue, green… it depended upon the light.
She appeared calm-peaceful. If Liet hadn't breathed the s
tagnant air, felt the freezing stone under his feet, and heard the great snores filtering down the corridor, he would have forgotten where he was entirely. "Ah, Twilight? I-"
"Silence, please," she said.
"But you let that Slip talk as much as she wanted-about nothing."
"That was Slip." Twilight adjusted the iron, wedging it against something unseen in the lock. "You can be silent."
"But why?"
"Three reasons," Twilight said. "One, so you don't wake up the troll. Two, because this isn't a silent cell, like Slip's was." She focused on the lock.
After a pause, Liet coughed nervously. "And the third?"
"Because I hate you," she said brightly.
The lock clicked open. Twilight shifted and stood without using her arms, then put her hand to the oddly curved handle. She hesitated.
"On second thought," she said. "You do it."
"Me?" Liet put his hand on it without thought, brushing hers. "Why?" he asked.
Twilight merely smiled, stepped behind him, and allowed him to open the door.
An upright palm emerged and struck him full in the chin. He staggered, and his attacker followed, dashing him to the ground. A yellow knee settled on his throat, and green eyes with golden spots burned down at him. Liet gasped and squirmed.
An iron shard slipped around his attackers throat. "Ah-ah," Twilight said. The eyes widened at its sound. "That one's mine."
Then Twilight hissed and wrenched herself aside just before a shaft of wood could fall on her skull. It merely clipped her temple as she rolled. She kicked out and knocked her attacker to the ground. He gasped raggedly.
"Asson!" The weight vanished from atop Liet, leaving him sputtering, and the woman-for so she was, a lithe, golden-skinned woman-leaped to her companion's side. The human man was old and weak, and he coughed as he settled into her protective arms.
"We…" Liet coughed into the floor. "We aren't your enemies…"
The golden woman looked at Twilight, who stared as though startled by her golden hair or perhaps just dazed. The features were different but just as delicate. An elf, Liet realized as he gazed, fascinated.
"We thought you were our captors, come to torture us." She narrowed her eyes, as though still uncertain, then glanced at the old man, concern in her eyes.
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