Page 56 of Elven Lies

“Until the grownups are finished talking,” Rebecca said.

A startled chuckle burst from Kaplan’s mouth as he regarded her. “The grownups. Ha. Yes, indeed. Quite right.”

Rowan rolled his eyes and exaggerated a sigh, though his smirk remained while he stood at the foot of the bed and folded his arms.

He could handle standing. If this elderly elf was as good as Rowan made him out to be, they wouldn’t be here very long, anyway.

“Now, then,” Kaplan began. “May I offer you some refreshment, my dear? Tea, perhaps?”

“No, thank you.” From the looks of the place, there didn’t seem to be a way to make tea. “All I need is your help finding out what this key opens.”

She pulled the key from her jacket pocket and held it toward him before realizing how awkward it would be to try handing him the key with an entire bed between them.

“Yes, yes, very good.” Kaplan waved away the key. “All in good time, my dear. All in good time. Now, first, before we get into the nitty-gritty of it all, do catch me up on things. And leave nothing out. I want to hear it all.”

Rebecca had encountered more than her fair share of eccentric magicals in the past, but now she wondered if Mr. Kaplan wasn’t entirely of sound mind. How much help could a crazy old elf be?

She glanced at Rowan with a raised eyebrow, to which he responded with a light chuckle through his nose and a mockingly polite dip of his head as he gestured toward their host.

If this odd meeting didn’t yield beneficial results, the Blackmoon Elf would have a lot more to answer for than a poor attitude and even worse personal life choices.

“Where would you like me to begin?” she finally asked.

“Why, at the beginning, of course.” Kaplan graced her with a kind, warm smile and folded his hands in his lap. “Starting with what you had for breakfast this morning.”

“For breakfast? I’m sorry… What does that have to do with this key?”

“We must establish a baseline, my dear. Only then can we move forward in the necessary direction and nowhere else. So go on. What did you eat?”

So much had happened since yesterday morning, it felt like years. This morning might as well have been months ago. With everything else tumbling around in her brain, how was she supposed to rememberthat?

Rebecca wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. I generally don’t eat breakfast. I don’t think I had anything.”

“I see.” Kaplan nodded sagely. “Pity. They do say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know.”

“They do say that,” Rowan echoed, choking back a snort when Rebecca shot him another scathing look.

“Well, in the absence of that information, then, I suppose we’ll make do with something else.” Kaplan settled farther back into his armchair. “Do you own a vehicle?”

“Personally?” Rebecca asked. “No.”

“Then a vehicle you operate. Or one in which you frequently ride. It’s all the same, really.”

“Oh, in that case, then, yeah. Several.”

“Make and model of the vehicle most often used?”

What was this?

“Mr. Kaplan,” she said, “I’m not trying to be rude, but I really don’t see how—”

“Of course you don’t. But you came here for my professional insight and opinion, my dear. Not to worry. This is all a very standard part of the process, you see.”

“Right.” She shifted in the armchair, unable to find a comfortable position with the cushion so steeply slanted.

Rowan wasn’t any help. It seemed all he could do to stand there at the foot of the bed and not burst into gales of laughter at her expense.

“What was the question again?” she asked.

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