Slowly, he fell silent, slowly loosened his grip on Calandra’s arm.
His elder sister, without a glance at any of them, marched stiffly out of the room.
Somehow I’ve got to warn them, he thought confusedly, somehow make them understand.
“Paithan …”
“Aleatha!” Paithan turned, relieved to find someone who would listen to reason. He held out his hand-
Aleatha slapped him across the face.
“Thea!” He put his hand over his stinging cheek.
His sister’s face was livid, her eyes feverish, the pupils dilated. “How dare you? How dare you repeat these wicked human lies!” She pointed at Roland. “Take this vermin and get out! Get out!”
“Ah! Charmed to see you again, my-” began Zifnab.
Roland couldn’t hear what was being said but the hatred in the blue eyes staring at him spoke for her. He raised his hands in apology. “Listen, lady, I don’t know what you’re saying, but-”
“I said get out!”
Fingers curled to claws, Aleatha flew at Roland. Before he could stop her, sharp nails dug into his cheek, leaving four long bleeding tracks. The startled man tried to fend the elf woman off without hurting her, tried to grasp the flailing arms.
“Paithan! Get her off me!”
Caught flat-footed by his sister’s sudden fury, the elf jumped belatedly after her. He grasped Aleatha around the waist, Rega tugged at her arms and, together, they managed to drag the spitting, clawing woman away from Roland.
“Don’t touch me!” Aleatha shrieked, striking out impotently at Rega.
“Better let me handle her,” gasped Paithan, in human.
Rega backed off, moved to her brother’s side. The human dabbed at his injured cheek with his hand, glared at the elf woman sullenly.
“Damn bitch!” he muttered in human, seeing blood on his fingers.
Not understanding his words, but fully comprehending their tone, Aleatha lunged at him again. Paithan held her, wrestling her back, until suddenly her anger was spent. She went limp in her brother’s grip, breathing heavily.
“Tell me it’s all a lie, Paithan!” she said in a low, passionate voice, resting her head on his chest. “Tell me you’ve lied!”
“I wish to Orn I could, Thea,” Paithan answered, holding her, stroking her hair. “But I can’t. I’ve seen . . . oh, blessed Mother, Aleatha! What I’ve seen!” He sobbed, clasped his sister convulsively.
Aleatha put both hands on his face, lifted his head, stared into his eyes. Her lips parted in a slight smile, her eyebrows lifted. “I am going to be married. I am going to have a house on the lake. No one, nothing can stop me.” She squirmed out of his embrace. Smoothing back her hair, she arranged the curls prettily over her shoulders. “Welcome home, Paithan, dear. Now that you’re back, take the trash out, will you?”
Aleatha smiled at Roland and Rega. She had spoken the last words in crude human.
Roland put his hand on his sister’s arm.
“Trash, huh? Come on. Sis. Let’s get out of here!”
Rega cast a pleading glance at Paithan, who stared at her helplessly. He felt like a sleeper who, on first awakening, can’t move his limbs.
“You see how it is!” Roland snarled. “I warned you!” He let loose of her, took a step off the porch. “Are you coming?”
“Pardon me,” said Zifnab, “but I might point out that you haven’t really any place to go-”
“Paithan! Please!” Rega begged.
Roland stomped down the stairs onto the mossy lawn. “Stay here!” he shouted back over his shoulder. “Warm the elf’s bed! Maybe he’ll give you a job in the kitchen!”
Paithan flushed in anger, took a step after Roland. “I love your sister! I-”
The sound of horns trumpeted through the still, morning air. The elf’s gaze turned in the direction of Lake Enthial, his lips tightened. Reaching out, he caught hold of Rega, drew her close. The moss began to rumble and quake beneath their feet. Drugar, who had said no word, made no movement the entire time, slid his hand into his belt.
“Now!” cried Zifnab testily, clinging to the porch railing for support. “If I may be allowed to finish a sentence, I’d like to say that-”
“Sir,” intoned the dragon, its voice rising from beneath the moss, “they’re here.”