"I didn't hear it," Cerest said. "I don't hear well, from the left side." He turned back to the girl. "My deepest gratitude," he said. "You saved my back, and the rest of me, such as I am." He smiled wryly. "My name is Cerest Elenithil. We met earlier, though not formally. May I know you?"
The girl hesitated. "My name is Icelin Team."
"Icelin Team," he repeated. The shadow of familiarity snapped abruptly into a picture-a memory-and the elf lost his breath.
He was not often caught so completely off guard, but at that moment, Cerest simply stared at the woman before him.
Framed by swirling dust clouds and the curious onlookers who'd come to see the accident, she was a vision, a ghost given life.
Memories surged through him, phantoms he could draw from the air: Elgreth, the fire, an opportunity lost forever, or so he'd thought. Yet here she was, standing before him like a small, dark angel.
Icelin Team, he thought. You are all grown up. I would never have known you.
An awkward silence had settled between them. Cerest recovered himself and hurried to fill it. "You must allow me to repay my debt. Please, I would like to escort you home. The Way of the Dragon is no place for a girl to be at night."
Cerest was careful to maintain a cordial manner. He didn't want her to realize how off balance he was. Did he imagine that she looked at him strangely, or was it just his scars that unsettled her? Before he'd been maimed, it had been effortless to charm people, in business or in his bed. Now it was more difficult to get folk to trust him.
"That's not necessary," said the girl. "I know the way well, and I like to walk."
An error. He'd been too forward. Cerest cursed himself. She was being cautious now, businesslike, just as she had been with Kredaron. He would have to snare the rabbit carefully, or she would run.
"I'm afraid my home is a far walk from here, but I have a wagon somewhat closer." He offered a mock wince. "I've learned my lesson. I shall never leave it to go on foot in South Ward again. I will retrieve the wagon and come for you here. Please, I could have you home to your family very shortly, and it would ease my mind to know you hadn't suffered any injuries preserving my poor neck."
"You're very kind, but I'm afraid I can't."
She was starting to edge away. Cerest could see she didn't trust him. He sighed inwardly. This was going to be more difficult than he'd thought. Ah, well. Perhaps his scars would serve him in this case.
He slipped his hand over her nearer wrist, as if it were the most natural gesture in the world, and not an intrusion in her space.
"Does my appearance unsettle you so much?" he asked, pitching his voice low.
That gave her pause. She flushed attractively. "I'm not troubled by your face, but by your sudden interest in me. You showed no such attentiveness before."
"Perhaps I am enchanted by the woman who just saved my life."
Her eyes narrowed. "Your hands are cold and dry, when any other man's should be shaking and clammy. You don't seem the least bothered that there is a dead animal reeking in the street behind us, an animal that almost killed you in a grisly fashion. You look as serene and collected as if you weie hosting a dinner party and I had suddenly become the honored guest. Please let go of my hand."
She jerked away and immediately began walking in the opposite direction. Cerest had to admire her quick wit. She would be difficult, just like Elgreth had been.
"Wait, please." The elf matched hei stride easily. "Icelin. Icelin, listen to me. Please don't run away. I don't want our acquaintance to start like this."
"We have no acquaintance," Icelin said curtly.
Oh, but you're wrong, Cerest thought. You don't know how very wrong you are.
He allowed her to pull slightly ahead of him before he fired his next shot, "Don't you remember me, Icelin?"
That stopped her cold. She spun to face him. "What did you say?"
"Of course you wouldn't. I shouldn't have expected…"
"Stop it." But she was looking at him now, her eyes raking his features, searching for something recognizable. No one had ever looked at him so intimately after he'd been maimed. His heart sped up. Gods, she was beautiful, more beautiful than Lisra____________________
She raised her hand to her mouth. Her chest heaved up and down. "Gods, no, it can't be. No. I'm sorry, I have to…"
She turned and fled, cutting down a back alley. Two carts jammed the way. She slid underneath the closest, ignoring the shouts of the drivers who had to steady their horses.
Cerest watched her go. He was too shocked to follow. What had caused the reaction in her? A breath ago she'd been grinding his teeth in the dirt and giving him a dressing-down for carelessness, and now she was a frightened waif running away from him as fast as she could.
He laughed out loud, startling the men who'd come to clean up the horse gore. Icelin was a strange woman and fascinating. Gods, he was almost glad she'd run. It made everything more exciting. Now he had to know her better.
He wanted to keep her forever.
The elf turned and broke into a run down the'Way. He had to find Riatvin and Melias. They were better trackers.
His men would get her back. Now that he'd seen her, he didn't want to lose her again. His hands trembled from an excitement that was almost sexual. Come back to me, Icelin. I'll explain everything. I'll make you remember.
Cerest's men were waiting for him at the wagon. Riatvin and Melias were gold elves, like himself; Greyas was the only human who served him. Cerest sometimes thought that, despite the inferiority of Greyas's race, the human understood him better than most eladrin. On a more practical level, Greyas was the only human who possessed tact enough to avert his gaze from Cerest's scars. A burly man with black hair sprouting from his head, chest, and nose, Greyas looked anything but tactful. He was sorely out of place between the two smooth-skinned elves.
"I need you to retrieve someone for me," Cerest told them.
"Deal go sour?" Greyas asked.
"The deal is in progress," Cerest corrected. He turned his attention to the elves and described Icelin in detail. He would never forget her face now. "You two go and find her. Bring her to the house. Hurry!" he snapped. "She moves fast, but someone will have seen her on the streets. Question them if need be, but discreetly."
The elves nodded and took off, moving like glowing streaks through the crowd.
She won't outrun them, Cetest thought. "Greyas, I want you to find out where she lives."
"How?"
"Go to Kredaron. He'll still be in the ward." Cerest's mind raced. An idea started to unfold. "Ask him politely where Icelin Team dwells. Apologize, but tell him you bear unhappy intelligence. Tell him that Icelin has stolen the jewels he sold to me. Ask him to please give an inventory to the Watch of the items in the transaction, as I had no time to make a record of them before I was robbed. That will remove Kredaron from the situation and assure him that I have no ill intentions."
"Do we?" Greyas asked. '
Cerest looked at him, but his mind was still occupied with other things. "Find out if she has any family left. If she does, that will be problematic for what I intend."
"You want me to remove the problem?"
That was why Cerest employed Greyas. He was unlike most humans, just as Cerest was different from other elves. His tone was businesslike; he passed no judgments, nor offered any reassurances on the consequences of Cerest's actions. For all his human frailties, Greyas was an instrument that cut quickly and without emotion. Cerest needed more men like that, but for now he could not afford them.
"Yes," he said. "Remove the problem, but do it tastefully. I don't want Icelin to suffer more than necessary."