Elvenbane

but that's just too bad for them, really.'

'Why don't they just build their own?' Mero asked, as she paused in her chatter long enough to open the study door.

'Because it takes too much power,' she explained. 'The old ones built the cabinets as the manors were being built, and they all contributed to each cabinet's spell, all twenty of them. It took them a year, and they couldn't do anything magical at all during the year except to build the cabinets, it took that much power.'

Unspoken was the implication that the elven lords on the Council these days didn't trust one another enough to either contribute power or lie helpless while recovering, in order to build more cabinets. She wondered if Mero had picked that up.

Probably, she decided, looking at his thoughtful expression as she pulled back the pale-pink satin drapery that concealed the cabinet, and handed him one of her sardonyx seals from the drawer of the dainty carved-birch desk in front of it.

'Here,' she said. 'Don't lose this. The cabinet here only works one-way, but the one at the Council building won't know where to send you home if you don't have this with you.'

Obediently, he pocketed it, and she pulled the door open for him. There was just barely enough room inside for two.

'Get in,' she said, and followed him, closing the door after herself and giggling when he tickled her playfully.

They returned at nightfall, and Mero handed her out of the cabinet with a great deal of gallantry, but none of the playfulness he'd shown earlier. The room had been made ready for their return; lights burning, and the curtains drawn as she preferred them. She broke the illusion on him with that touch, and his face shimmered and changed as she allowed him to resume his core-illusion, of full humanity.

He looked at her thoughtfully, and she smiled. He smiled back, but didn't say anything, and Triana gathered that the Council session had really opened his eyes to the reality of elven politics...and the strength of Lord Dyran.

The subject that had been before the Council was a dispute between two of the lesser lords...one which seemed simple on the surface, but involved the prestige and welfare of at least a half dozen Council members. And the rest, of course, had bets riding on the outcome. Insofar as she had been able, Triana had kept up a running commentary on exactly who was involved with what, who was being betrayed, who was likely to turn his coat if the tide turned against him. Dyran, who, as always, was covering both sides without either side knowing that he was, controlled both halves of the conflict with a masterful hand.

If Mero had to pick a day to visit the Council, this was a good one, she thought with satisfaction, as she had Mero take a seat, and summoned a servant to fetch them a late meal. Not like the day they spent arguing over trade quotas and the Council tax on oat harvests.

She felt a little light-headed, and recognized the symptoms for what they were. 'If you don't mind, Mero,' she said, breaking into the young halfblood's reverie, 'I'm going to go change. I'll be right back.'

He kissed her hand as she stood, and she gave him a dazzling smile before turning away and going out the study door.

She didn't really want to change; she wanted to reinforce the glamorie, and for that she needed one of the talismans in which she had stored power. Besides creating the illusion for Mero, the transport-cabinet used her energy for the actual transportation, and she was depleted. But no matter how depleted she was, one thing she would never do was to allow any of the slaves to handle her talismans. That would be inviting disaster. You never knew when one of them might have enough residual wizard-power and will left to use the stored energy of the talisman to counter the spells on his collar.

She wouldn't run; it wasn't dignified. But she hurried her steps as much as she could without running, her heels echoing in the white marble hall, and let herself into her room without any fanfare. There was no one there, which was just as well. She tried not to let anyone know where she kept her talismans, not even the lowest of the slaves.

She took the key from around her wrist and unlocked the appropriate drawer of her white-lacquered jewel cabinet, and looked through her talismanic jewelry until she found the necklace of amber that matched her creamy-gold gown. She slipped it on over her head hurriedly, and immediately felt better, less as if she were reduced to a mere wisp of herself. Being depleted always made her feel as if she were likely to blow away on the next breeze.

She returned to Mero, her steps echoing confidently up the hall. She thought she heard male voices somewhere ahead, and didn't give it a second thought. But as she approached the door, she heard the sound of a splintering crash, and the thud of two bodies on the floor.

Ancestors! What on earth? Who would dare...

She flung the door open, just in time to see Mero receive a kick in the ribs that sent him flying into the wall, taking one of her little carved-birch chairs with him. The chair did not survive the impact. Mero did, but not well.

Triana whirled, her power rising within her, to confront Mero's assailant. A huge, muscular, dark-haired man stalked past her, ignoring her presence and advancing on Mero with blood-lust in his eyes. She recognized him with surprise. It was a human named Laras, one of her stable, a slave who had been intended for the gladiatorial ranks before she had taken him for her own purposes. If he had been a little brighter, she might have elevated him to be Rafe's replacement, but his dim-wittedness ruled that out. Nevertheless, he seemed to regard himself as her favorite. He had always been inclined to jealousy, and his fits of temper were violent and notorious among the slaves, but she had never seen him lose his control so completely.

For a moment, her blood and heartbeat quickened. She was being fought over! It was like the old days, when elven lords dueled for the favor of a chosen lady. But that was long ago...long before elves came here, to this world.

How exciting...they were fighting for her'! She didn't know of anyone who'd had men fight over her...

But then, as she took in the damage that had been done so far (two broken chairs, a ruined table, and most of the ornaments smashed), her anger awoke. Laras had broken conditioning and training, and he was in the process of destroying her property. This was not to be tolerated. Even if it had been caused by jealousy over her...

She stepped into the room, her power tingling at her fingertips.

'Laras!' she shouted...her voice evidently penetrated the fog of rage that enveloped him, and he began to turn. When he saw that it was really her, he started to smile.

She ignored the smile. 'You've been a very bad boy, Laras,' she said coldly. 'I'm going to have to make sure you never do this again.'

As Laras winced, and his eyes darted frantically from one corner to the other, looking for a place to hide, she acted. Before she could change her mind, she called combat-fire and burned him to ashes where he stood.

She was merciful. He didn't even have time to scream.

Now, too late to stop the fight, other slaves came running; they arrived at the door just in time to see her punish Laras for his presumption, and most of them shrank back from her as she leveled an angry gaze at them. No one made the mistake of trying to run; that would be tantamount to a confession of guilt. And a suicidal move, given the temper she was in now.

'Who allowed this to happen?' she snarled, knowing very well that no one was going to answer. She raked them all with her eyes, and had the satisfaction of seeing them blanch. There had been times when she had punished everyone for misdeeds, and not just the guilty party. She was tempted to do just that right now, and reinforce the lesson in obedience she had just delivered.

But...there was another witness. She dared not give in to her anger around Mero. Not when she was trying to impress him with her charm and gentleness.

'See that the room is clean and refurnished,' she ordered, knowing that everyone within hearing would leap to do just that. Her tempers were too unpredictable to take a chance with. 'And see that everyone on the estate hears about this. I have no wish to see a repetition of this incident.'

She picked one servant at random and directed him to see to Mero. He scuttled to the halfblood's side and