by Kay L. Ling
“I s’pose it make sense—her bein’ a few hun’erd years old, an’ woodspirits livin’ almos’ forever.” He frowned. “You won’t be handin’ her over, will ya?”
“They just want to see her. I don’t think they plan to take her anywhere.”
For a moment, she and Wally stood staring at one another. She honestly didn’t know what the delegation had in mind. Frinkk had been saying something about nothing being decided yet when Anatta cut him off, demanding to see her sister. Weeks ago, when Anatta had spoken to Tyla from Mierek Fortress, she had apologized on behalf of all woodspirits for S’s crimes. But were the woodspirits truly sorry?
“Can’t help ya ‘cause of the gems,” Wally said.
“I know. I’m hoping one of the guards comes by.”
Many breghlin, Wally included, had turned from evil, but they would never be able to touch the cage. They were a corrupt variant of the gnome race, and Fair Lands gems would always burn them.
It suddenly occurred to Tyla that S hadn’t said a word. “S, your sister Anatta is here.”
The beetle remained silent and motionless.
“Want that I should poke her with a stick? See if she be dead?”
Tyla smiled. “She’s not dead. Maybe she doesn’t want her sister to see her. I suppose it’s embarrassing to be a giant, ugly bug.”
Footsteps echoed from somewhere down the passageway. Raenihel came toward them, red-faced and puffing. His gray hair and beard were neatly trimmed, and he wore a dark green tunic and pants today, probably his best clothing.
“Here you are,” he said, looking worried. “They said you were getting S.”
“You left the delegation alone?” At first Tyla was horrified, then it struck her funny. They were probably appalled at such disorganization.
“Are you sure we should let them see her like this?” Raenihel asked.
“Do we really have a choice?”
Raenihel sighed. “No, I suppose not.”
Tyla drew Raenihel and Wally a little way down the passageway so S wouldn’t overhear. “Do you think she’ll speak to them?”
“I hope so,” Raenihel said quietly. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone questioned whether it was really her.”
“These gnomes are highly respected gem masters, so they must have discernment powers.”
“True. They’re celebrated personalities where they come from. Frinkk—that’s Frinkk with two k’s,” Raenihel amended dryly, “is an important official at Mierek, and Klemmet—two m’s one t, is from one of the better families in Mierek City.”
“I see you got the same speech,” she said, laughing. “I wish you had been there when they arrived. They weren’t very impressed with me.”
“I’d say they’re easily offended and not easily impressed. I did manage to impress them for a moment. They were surprised to hear we have a Ministry of Gnome Affairs.”
“Which was started by a human,” Tyla said, smiling at the irony.
“Naturally, I didn’t tell them that.”
Raenihel’s worshipful regard for Mierek officials had begun to crumble lately. He was finally seeing them for what they were.
“Will ya be bringin’ ’em by our office?” Wally asked.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” Tyla said, knowing the delegates would be disgusted by breghlin’s appearance and crude behavior.
“You’re right,” Raenihel agreed. “I’m a clan leader and they looked down their noses at me. They must have been expecting someone in fine robes like theirs. I invited them to sit, but they eyed me with disapproving looks and continued to stand where they were.”
“Maybe they didn’t want to sit on S’s creepy animal-bone furniture,” Tyla said.
“Could be. Well, I suppose we shouldn’t keep them waiting. I’ll help you carry the cage.”
“We’re about to find out what Anatta thinks of her sister’s new look.”
