The big man nodded. “As you have always so graciously done, Dark Lady.” He smiled. “What sort of prize is it you seek?”
She hesitated deliberately, as if debating whether to tell him. He must be made to think it was a difficult decision, the result of which would favor him. “A form of magic,” she confided finally. “A very special magic. If I was to gain possession of this magic, I would become much more powerful than I am. And if I was to share possession with you, you would become strongest among those who seek power within the Federation government.” She paused. “Would you like that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, laughing softly. “Such power might be too much for a simple man like me.” He paused. “Do I have your assurance that I will share in the use of this magic on your return?”
“My complete and unequivocal assurance, Minister.”
He bowed slightly in acknowledgment. “I could ask for nothing more.” She had convinced him a long time ago that she would keep her word once she gave it. She also knew that his confidence was buttressed by his belief that even if she broke it, her betrayal would not cost him much.
“Where do you go to seek this magic?” he asked.
She gave him a long, careful look. “Across the Blue Divide, to a new land, an old city, a strange place. Only a few others have gone there. None have returned.”
She did not mention the castaway or the Elves. There was no reason for him to know of them. She gave him just enough to keep him interested.
“None have returned,” he repeated slowly. “Not very reassuring.
Will you succeed where everyone else has failed?”
“What do you think, Minister?”
He laughed softly. “I think you are young for such machinations and intrigue. Do you never think of taking time for more casual pleasures? Do you never wish that you could put aside your obligations, just for a few days, and do something you never imagined?”
She sighed wearily. He was being obtuse. He was refusing to accept that his advances were not welcome. She must put a stop to it now before it got out of hand. “If I were to consider such a thing,” she purred, “do you know a place to which I might escape?”
His gaze on her was steady and watchful. “I do.”
“And would you be my guide and companion?”
He straightened expectantly. “I would be honored.”
“No, Minister, you would simply be dead, probably before the first day was out.” She paused to let him absorb the impact of her words. “Put aside your dreams of what you think I might be. Do not let them enter your mind or be persuaded to speak of them again. Ever. I am nothing of what you imagine and less of what you would hope. I am blacker than your worst deeds could ever be. Don’t presume to know me. Keep far away from me, and maybe you’ll stay alive.
His face had stilled, and there was uncertainty in his eyes. She let him wrestle with it a moment, then whispered words of calming in the silence, and laughed like a girl, soft and low. “Come now, Minister. Harsh words are unnecessary. We are old friends. We are allies. What of my request? Will you aid me?”
“Of course,” he answered swiftly. A political animal first and always, Sen Dunsidan could recognize reality quicker than most. He did not want to anger or alienate her or sever their mutually advantageous connection. He would attempt to move past his clumsy attempt at an assignation as if it had never happened. She, of course, would let him. “A ship, a Captain, and crew,” he assured her, grateful for a chance to accommodate, to be back in her good graces. He brushed at his silver hair and smiled. “All at your disposal, Dark Lady, for as long as you need them.”
“Your best of each, Minister,” she warned. “No weak links. This voyage will not be easy.”
He rose, walked to the study window, and looked out over the city. His home sat in a cluster of Federation government buildings, some residences, some offices, all warded by a walled park into which no one was admitted without invitation. The Ilse Witch smiled. Except for her, of course. She could go anywhere she wished.