“Does anyone know where I can get some coffee?” He scratched at his stubble, wondering what to shave with.
“I already asked,” Matt complained. “There isn’t any. They don’t even know what it is. This is going to be miserable.”
Anna chuckled, picking at some fruits. “You’ll get used to it. I have to admit I was hoping this was a dream when I got up.”
“Or a nightmare,” Ryan added quietly. “I wish I knew how Daniel was doing.”
Eric gestured to a ceramic bowl of water on a silver tray, a short blade for shaving next to it on green towels. “They dropped off this stuff earlier,” he said, sitting down. If he harbored any resentments about the night before, Ryan couldn’t tell and appreciated a lack of attitude. “We already used it, but you’ll want to warm up the water on the fire. It’s not the most sanitary thing, but I think we’re okay.”
Ryan took the bowl and left to shave, his thoughts on his problematic role of a knight. They would never return home if they didn’t succeed, and the quest undoubtedly required all of them. Matt couldn’t cast spells, nor Anna heal anyone with magic, which left him and Eric. If he refused to fight, it was all on the martial artist. As impressive as Eric was, he wasn’t going to punch a dragon into submission. Ryan would have to help and be willing to use deadly force. Even if he didn’t, he’d still be condoning whatever Eric did if he just stood there and watched instead of stopping him. It was unlikely they could seal the Dragon Gate at all, with or without a fight.
He couldn’t do this. There had to be another way. If refusing meant living out his life on Honyn as a shamed coward, that was better than killing anyone else. He could live with that, but the others might share in his fate and he didn’t have the right to decide that for them. Maybe he could just quit and let them go without him. If this Lorian guy could bring enough elves with him, Ryan wouldn’t be needed. The idea brightened him. He’d talk to Lorian privately when he got the chance.
After a quick breakfast, they left the suite to see Lorian, following a guide through the castle halls. Matt walked more briskly than the others, his head full of questions about the summoning, wizardry, and anything related to magic. The elf was the one person he could ask about such things, since everyone else would expect him to already know. It wasn’t that he wanted to cast a spell – well, he did, but that seemed as improbable as anything else – but the talk with Raith the night before had filled him with ideas. Besides, he needed to know how to fool people or give plausible excuses that he wasn’t going to cast a spell when they expected him to. When they arrived, the elves wasted no time. Two let them through a door to Lorian’s suite. The elf promptly greeted them and got right down to business.
“It is not safe for us to speak of your true identities in this place,” he began, motioning them to sit on sofas embroidered with forest settings, “but my brethren have cleared the area of possible spies. We should have a few minutes, at least.”
“So they also know who we are?” Eric asked, walking around the room and peering through doorways. Matt looked at the balcony and see an elf there, his head scanning back and forth.
“They know who you are not,” corrected Lorian, slanted eyes watching him, “but only two of them, who would have discovered your charade on seeing you. It is important that such individuals be told the truth and cautioned to remain silent, else they might remark upon it aloud in front of the wrong company.”
Eric nodded, remaining standing while all but Lorian sat. “And the wrong company would be everyone, except elves?”
“Elves who knew them, yes, and some dwarves.”
“Dwarves?” Matt asked. What else was on this planet? Despite the danger that would get closer by the day, his curiosity was rising even more.
Lorian replied, “Yes. Elves and dwarves are likely to remember the details of the champions’ appearance better than humans. Four years is long enough for your kind to forget, and it is not unreasonable to mistake you for them, considering the similarity of your appearance.” He looked at them one by one. “I must say, the resemblance is remarkable, as you’re each the same basic height, build, hair color, and have similar features. You are nearly the same age, a bit younger. This is undoubtedly why they chose you. Only those with whom they’d spent considerable time are likely to discover the deceit, and on most worlds, they acted very much alone.”
“Chose us?” Ryan asked, looking like he hadn’t thought of that before. Neither had Matt, who had assumed this was all some sort of accident.
“Yes,” said the elf, leaning against a chair. “Those you impersonate. I’d very much like to know why the four of you have appeared in their place.”
Ryan glanced at his friends. “We were hoping you could tell us that.”
Lorian’s slender, blond eyebrows arched. “You do not know? Didn’t they tell you?”
“Who?” Matt asked, fingering his staff. “This Soliander and the others? You think they sent us?”
“Of course,” answered Lorian. “How else would you come to be here in their place?”
“We don’t have the slightest idea,” replied Ryan in frustration.
The elf asked, “They didn’t tell you?”
“No,” answered Ryan. “We’ve never even heard of these people until we showed up in the court. We certainly haven’t met them.”
Lorian looked from one to another, measuring them. “Then they didn’t send you.”
“No,” answered Matt, realizing Lorian didn’t know what
