Elven Star – The Death Gate Cycle 2. Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman

She had. He’d actually been fool enough to think she was falling in love with him! Those conversations they’d had along the trail. He’d told her stories about his homeland, about his sisters, his father, and the crazy old wizard. She’d laughed, she’d seemed interested. Her admiration had shone in her eyes.

And then there had been all those times they’d touched, just by accident, bodies brushing against each other, hands meeting when they reached for the same waterskin. Then there’d been the trembling, quivering eyelids, heaving breasts, flushed skin.

“You’re good, Rega!” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Really good. Yes, I’m ‘wild about you’! I would have ‘tumbled.’ But not now! Now that I know you, little whore!” Closing his eyes tightly, squeezing back tears, the elf sagged against the tree. “Blessed Peytin, Holy Mother of us all, why did you do this to me?”

Perhaps it was the prayer-one of the few the elf had ever bothered to make-but he felt a jab of conscience. He’d known she belonged to another man. The elf had flirted with the woman in Roland’s very presence. Paithan had to admit to himself that he’d found it exhilarating, seducing the wife beneath the husband’s nose.

“You got what you deserved,” Mother Peytin seemed to be saying to him. The goddess’s voice bore an unfortunate resemblance to Calandra’s, however, and it only made Paithan angrier.

“It was all in fun” he justified himself. “I would never have let it go too far, not really. And I certainly never meant to … to fall in love.”

That last statement, at least, was true and it made Paithan believe profoundly in all the rest.

“What’s wrong? Paithan? What’s the matter?”

The elf opened his eyes, turned around. Rega stood before him, her hand reaching for his arm. He drew back, away from her touch.

“Nothing,” he said, swallowing.

“But you look terrible! Are you sick?” Rega reached for him again. “Do you have a fever?”

He took another step back. If she touches me, I’ll strike her!

“Yeah. No, uh . . . no fever. I’ve been . . . sick. Maybe the water. Just. . . leave me alone for a bit.”

Yes, I’m better now. Practically cured. Little whore. He found it difficult not to let his hatred and disgust show and so he kept his eyes averted, staring fixedly into the jungle.

“I think I should stay with you,” said Rega. “You don’t look good at all. Roland’s gone off scouting around for another way down, maybe a shorter drop. He’ll be gone for quite a while, I imagine-”

“Will he?” Paithan looked at her, a look so strange and piercing that it was Rega who now fell back a step before him. “Will he be gone a long, long time?”

“I don’t-” Rega faltered.

Paithan lunged at her, grabbed the woman by the shoulders and kissed her, hard, his teeth cutting her soft lips. He tasted berry-juice and blood,

Rega struggled, squirming in his grasp. Of course, she’d have to put up a token resistance.

“Don’t fight it!” he whispered. “I love you! I can’t live without you!”

He expected her to melt, to moan, to cover him with kisses. And then Roland would come along, shocked, horrified, hurt. Only money would ease the pain of betrayal.

And I’ll laugh! I’ll laugh at both of them! And I’ll tell them where to stick their money . . .

One arm around her back, the elf pressed the woman’s half-naked body up against his. His other hand sought soft flesh.

A violent kick to the groin sent a flash of pain through Paithan. The elf doubled over. Strong hands hit him on the collar bone, knocking him backward, sending him crashing into the underbrush.

Face flushed, eyes flaring, Rega stood over him. “Don’t you ever touch me again! Don’t come near me! Don’t even talk to me!”

Her dark hair rose, ruffled like the fur of a scared cat. She turned on her heel and stalked off.

Paithan, rolling on the ground in agony, had to admit he was now extremely confused.

Returning from his search for a more suitable way down onto the trail below, Roland crept back stealthily over the moss, hoping-once again-to catch Rega and her “lover” in a compromising position. He reached the place on the trail where he’d left his sister and the elf, drew in a breath to yell the outrage of an offended husband, and peeped out from the cover of a gigantic shadowcove plant. He exhaled in disappointment and exasperation.

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