this she felt? And what did Taslin know of her?
The priestess met her gaze. 'Asson and I knew many years of happiness together. And while they endured, each of us loved to the fullest, knowing that our time together would end. And now those years have ended, and I can be content, knowing that he rests. It has been the same for the four lovers I have known-all of them human.'
Twilight raised a brow at that. She looked into the chasm- its beckoning darkness comforted her. Or at least so she told herself.
'I lost a lover once,' she said. 'His name was Neveren. He died in my arms. I understand how you feel.'
Taslin sighed. 'You know what the greatest irony is? If we could recover his bones, by Corellon's grace, he could be restored to me.'
Twilight's gaze snapped to her. 'You have that power?' she said, stunned. 'Why not use it? Would Asson not answer?'
'He would return if I called him,' said Taslin. 'But I would not call.'
'You do not grieve for him?' Twilight reached out and laid her hand, ever so lightly, on Taslin's shoulder.
The priestess closed her eyes gently. 'I do, in my heart,' she said. 'But I…' She trailed off, her eyes soft. Her hand reached for Twilight's.
Twilight eluded Taslin's touch and brushed a lock of her golden hair away. With techniques long practiced, Twilight ran her fingers through Taslin's golden hair and over her shoulders and neck. She felt the tension in the sun elf's body-sensed the vibrations in the priestess's bones that spoke of buried grief. Twilight shifted, leaning against Taslin's back, and stroked her hair gently. She told herself to stop, but that self didn't listen.
'Sometimes,' whispered Twilight, knowing the words, 'grief can-cannot…'
Then, inexplicably, she stumbled. She couldn't say it-couldn't speak that lie. Who was this priestess, who had such power over her? Was this Erevan's doing?
In a matter of heartbeats, tears began to fall down Taslin's cheeks, through the acid-etched furrows like streams of pain and sorrow. The priestess wept in Twilight's arms for a long time, her strength and endurance bleeding away into a fragility not even Twilight would have thought possible. It staggered her.
Twilight knew that Taslin did not weep as a champion of Corellon Larethian, or as a mighty priestess, or even as an elf who had seen more than three hundred winters. In that moment, Taslin was merely a woman, crying from her heart for the man she had loved-still loved, though he was gone.
And through it all, Twilight felt again the terrible pain and anger in her own heart, boiling and festering like a sore, a canker that would never heal.
Never would she let herself weep for love. She had known too much treachery for that. It was an aptly named sword she carried, Betrayal, its blade dyed the dusk of stone after the darkness that had bled from her pierced heart into its steel.
Twilight was so lost in her rage that she almost did not notice when Taslin turned in her arms. She did notice, though, when the sun elf bent in and pressed her lips to her own. For a single, stunned breath, Twilight did nothing but let Taslin kiss her.
Then hot blood flowed through her veins. She looked into green-gold eyes and saw there the light and hope she wanted-desperately needed. Her hands clasped both sides of the priestess's face and pulled her deeper into the embrace. As though Taslin suddenly realized what was happening, she tried to break the kiss, but Twilight clung to her, pulling her and throwing them both to the stone.
Then the priestess let out a muffled gasp and Twilight felt her surrender. Supple arms wrapped around her back, and she felt nails through her blouse but she was hardly aware of the world outside the kiss.
All of Taslin's fiery passions poured into that kiss-all her wrath and rage about Asson's death, all her determination and love. She kissed hard, violently. Her hands gripped Twilight's arms with white-knuckled force, the nails nearly drawing blood.
Then it was broken. Twilight rolled away to lie beside Taslin, both of them panting heavily in the murky torchlight. The two women looked at each other for many heartbeats, neither speaking. They merely breathed.
Twilight's heart raced so fast it scared her. No, she thought. No!
Then Taslin made a sound that made Twilight's heart fall back into shadow. It was a mere giggle at first, but soon it became an outright laugh.
She laughed alone.
How much the mirth stung startled her. Twilight felt like weeping, for she had been wrong about Taslin, but no-no tears. Instead, she bound that hurt deep inside.
While the priestess seemed capable of letting it pass, Erevan's servant was not so carefree. Perhaps the Maid was toying with her again, or even the Trickster himself. He had ruined everything else in her life, why not this?
'My thanks,' the priestess said. 'Perhaps there is more to wisdom than holding it all within the heart.' Then she smiled innocently, and her eyes softened.
Twilight wanted to agree-she wanted to reassure Taslin, to tell her all would be well. She could see that Taslin needed only those words and her heart would be whole once more. It should have been so easy to give her those, to give her the comfort and love she needed. Even if Taslin did not want her as a lover, Twilight should have been able to take Taslin into her arms and let the sun elf weep on her shoulder, sharing the pain.
But it would've been a lie-an inward lie. She could not tell Taslin that grief had to be entrusted to others-she did not believe in trusting others. And the priestess, much as she possessed the warmth Twilight's cold heart craved, did trust, and that made her a fool. More than that, she was stupid enough to want Twilight for a friend.
Twilight believed in only three breeds of people in the world: lovers, enemies, and those who were both. That left no room for something so naive as friendship.
All trust and friendship had earned her, in her young life, had been more than her years' worth of heartbreak and loss.
Without a word, Twilight stood and walked away. She didn't look back.
She thought she heard Taslin say something behind her, but the words hurt less than those pained eyes, stabbing into her back.
'May Corellon guide you,' the sun elf said. 'And may you accept his hand.'
CHAPTER TWELVE
Liet breathed a sigh of relief when Davoren returned. His demeanor showed no aggression or wrath, surprisingly, and his eyes darted nervously. Liet wondered, with no small shiver, what could make the invincible warlock afraid.
A short time later, Liet saw Twilight gliding from the tunnel in the direction that Taslin had gone several bells earlier. 'Take this night for mourning if you wish, rest if you do not.' Her tone made it clear she addressed them all.
Taslin, nude but for the cloak they had found for her, followed not far behind, and Liet had to look at her twice. He glanced at Twilight, wide-eyed, but she didn't return it.
Twilight continued. Her voice sounded tired. 'Tomorrow, we head south-circling back to the rising tunnel Slip found.'
They nodded solemnly. Gargan was the only one who made a sound.
'Goli lenamaka nae,' he said. Then he separated from the others, hand on the hilt of the sword he had taken, and disappeared into the tunnels.
Slip blinked out of her doze and watched the receding goliath. 'Hey!' she called. 'Hey, wait!' She got up and ran after him into the darkness. Gargan paused and waited until Slip reached his side, and they disappeared together.
Twilight stared after them. Taslin crossed to her side and laid a hand on her elbow. 'He goes to keep watch,' she said, pointing to her earring.
Twilight seemed to accept the priestess's words, though she looked decidedly uncomfortable. She shrugged,
