Page 2 of Elven Lies

That made it even more difficult to act natural for the agonizingly long seconds remaining before the others Maxwell had had called up here on her behalf finally made an appearance.

Bor arrived next, his shuffling gait belying his surprising strength and virility for such an old giveldi. The expression on his wrinkled face, marred on one side by the enormous and impressively obvious scar stretching from one eyebrow down to the hard line of his opposite jaw, made him look even more disgruntled and imposing than usual.

Including when he stopped at the table in front of an empty chair and dumped an armload of plastic-wrapped packages onto the wooden surface. “Brought some snacks.”

“Nice.” Whit reached forward to grab one and received an echoing smack on the back of his hand from Shade’s resident cook and, in this case, valued elder.

“You wait till it’s time, just like everyone else,” Bor grumbled.

Scowling at the old giveldi, Whit leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “I was here before you.”

“Your point?” Bor pulled out a chair from under the table and lowered himself into it with a grunt.

Rebecca could have sworn she heard the cook’s bones creaking at the movement.

Whit refused to look at him and shrugged. “I’m just saying…”

Then Rebecca made the unconscious mistake of glancing at Maxwell again, still standing beside the open office door.

Of course he was still watching her, and of course that tingling pressure of his gaze only intensified when their eyes locked and his widened a little with the unspoken message Rebecca instantly understood:We’ll get there eventually.

At least, that was what she imagined the shifter’s expression portrayed, though she had to remind herself she couldn’t read his mind. Even when it was starting to feel like she could…

The next Shade member to hurdle through the office door appeared as a disheveled mess of brown hair sticking up in all directions and wide, reddened eyes rimmed with the darkened shadows of sleeplessness.

This was one of the few times Rebecca had seen Leonard in a set of baggy, colorless gray sweats instead of his usual jeans and t-shirt, not to mention the absence of the thick brown leather trench coat he wore at all times like a grown mage’s security blanket.

She couldn’t judge him for the marginally camouflaged stains peppering his sweatshirt, either. If anyone had been personally affected by the most recent blow to Shade’s ranks and its security, it was Leonard.

He stumbled into her office, skittish and looking terribly confused even as he met Rebecca’s gaze and headed toward the table without being prompted. “Please tell me you have a plan,Knox. That you’re already doing something. Give me that much, at least.”

The desperate anguish behind the mage’s eyes tugged at her, but she couldn’t let his overflowing emotions affect her responsibilities or what she knew still needed to be done.

“That’s what this meeting is for,” she told him with another nod toward the table. “For now, just take a seat.”

Leonard’s chair scraped noisily across the wooden floor as he whisked it out from under the table, his gaze darting from one magical’s face around the room to the next. “Seriously. What else are we waiting for, exactly?”

At that moment, Rick stumbled through the door, catching his breath and righting himself as if he’d broken some unspoken rule by not entering as his best self.

Maxwell eyed him as the blackhorn entered the room, then replied, “Just one more.”

“Let me guess.” Zida’s coarse voice spilled into the office a second before the old healer appeared in the open doorway. Her beady black eyes scanned Rebecca’s office and narrowed with heightening scrutiny. “That would beme, huh? It’s one emergency after the other, here, there, and everywhere, and y’all still act like I can be in fifty places at once. Move it, shifter. You’re in my way.”

She slapped Maxwell’s arm with the back of one gnarled, claw-shaped hand before he stepped quickly aside to give her more room. Then Zida bustled across the office, glowering at everyone, including Rebecca. “I’m here, all right? You called, and I answered, yada yada… Just don’t come whining to me if someone needs a healer and I’m stuck up here with you when that happens.”

Once the daraku took her seat with the other four at the table, Maxwell pulled the office door shut and locked it with a soft click. “That’s everyone.”

“Fantastic,” Zida declared dryly. “The only thing we need now is an explanation. Do any of you sorry saps know what this is about? Because I have no idea what I’m even doing here. Unless our Roth-Da’al got herself into more trouble and now wants a quick fix and an emergency exit.Again.”

Her dark gaze flickered toward Rebecca.

Any other time, under any other circumstances, Rebecca would have laughed at the healer’s foul mood, however expected. But nothing about this meeting or its purpose was a laughing matter.

It was hard enough to conjure even a small, weak smile, so she gave up trying.

Whit frowned at the healer and leaned forward over the table toward her. “Emergency exit? What’sthatsupposed to mean?”

Rebecca cleared her throat. “This isn’t about me, anyway. So ignore the comment, and let’s move right past it.”

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