Page 58 of Elven Lies

“Fine.” She tossed a hand in the air before letting it drop into her lap. “Coffee that’s been heavily sugared before I get it. Does that work?”

The elf’s eyes narrowed while he stared blankly across the room, as if this were a matter of the utmost importance. Then he closed his eyes with a hum of satisfaction and nodded. “That will do.”

“Great. Anything else?”

“One moment, please.” Kaplan still hadn’t opened his eyes, though now he’d straightened in his armchair and cocked his head like a cat that had just picked up some strange new sound and was about to go investigate its source.

For several long, highly awkward moments, he remained that way in his chair. His study turned private living quarters grew intensely silent while Rebecca waited.

So silent, in fact, she thought she could hear some kind of mechanism or energy source deep underground beneath them, chugging away in rhythmic timing as it pumped who knew what into any number of buildings around them, including this one.

Directly opposite her along the far wall, an oil lamp hanging from an unsteady hook in the wall flickered to life, then exhibited a disconcerting display of flickering flames growing and shrinking inside before the fire crackled with a blue tint, then orange, then purple, teal, fuchsia, and bright white until it repeated another cycle.

She hadn’t seen anyone light it, and it hadn’t been flickering away like that when they’d arrived.

If she had to sit here like this for much longer—or if Kaplan had some other ridiculously irrelevant test to put her through before offering anything resembling an answer about this mystery key—she was out of here.

Even hearing the elf was unable to help them would have been better than sitting here with nothing to show for it.

Then Kaplan sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and his eyes flew open, startling Rebecca in her armchair.

Her first thought was that something else had gone terribly wrong.

But then the older gentleman puffed out another sigh, blinked rapidly as if he’d just been roused from an afternoon catnap, and smacked his lips before settling his gaze on her. “Well?”

She looked questioningly at Rowan, but he was no help and only offered a clueless shrug. “Well what?”

“Let’s see it, then.”

Rebecca paused, scanned the circular room, and shook her head. “I don’t—”

“Thekey, my dear. Thatiswhy you’re here, is it not? Really, I wouldn’t put it pasthimto forget that singularly important detail.” Kaplan jerked his chin in Rowan’s direction, refusing to look at him. “But you seem a good bit more lucid, Miss… Oh my. I do apologize. By what name may I call you, Miss…”

“Knox,” Rebecca said stiffly, battling her impatience and the mind-baffling confusion of this elf being their only viable leadfor potentially solidifying Shade’s future. If they ever got around to it.

“Miss Knox. A pleasure. And, I dare say, you also possess far more common sense at a glance. So do come along and show me what we’re working with. I’m quite happy to assist you if I can. Nothing guaranteed, of course.”

“Of course,” Now that they’d finally gotten to the key, she forced back a laugh when she stood from her armchair, stepped toward the twin-sized bed, and leaned forward over it to extend her arm all the way across toward Mr. Kaplan sitting on the other side. “Thank you. I appreciate any insight.”

Kaplan took the key, held it up in front of him, and craned his neck to peer at it as if it were a translucent gemstone he could more thoroughly inspect under better lighting. “Now. Yes. To whom does this belong?”

“Me.” Rebecca decided to stay on her feet in case he asked her to run a lap around the room or perform jumping jacks for the next thirty seconds. At this point, even that wouldn’t have surprised her.

The old elf lowered the key toward his lap, then blinked at her. “You don’t need a key-maker, my dear. You need a memory jump.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’d say you have bigger problems than this if it’syourkey but you still requiremyservices to tell you what it opens.”

“Oh. Well, itismine, but I inherited it, actually.”

“Really?” His eyes widened. “Do go on.”

There wasn’t much more to that story with any relevance to their conversation, but if he needed more, fine.

“The key belonged to my predecessor,” she cautiously explained. “It was included in his belongings left to me after he…passed, though unfortunately, he neglected to leave any instructions.”

“I see. Thatisan interesting conundrum.” Kaplan turned the key over several times, then pinched it between his thumb and every other finger of his right hand first before doing the same with his left. After that, he lifted the key to his face for three quick, tentative sniffs before prodding it with the tip of his tongue and smacking his lips afterward with another thoughtful hum.

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