Snippet #2497636

It was so ridiculous Marigola couldn’t stop laughing. She laughed so hard she was nearly doubled over, grasping her belly like it was about to fall off. Before her was a tall, dark-haired elf, one she recognized only by the name of his tribe. The look he gave her as she spluttered out her mirth only made her amusement that much greater. It was so like the elves to be the scions of hypocrisy—here Mr. Fen was after over twenty-five years, expecting her to be concerned about “our people.” In exactly what sense were they related, she wondered? Not really by blood, as hers was tainted with a human’s, and certainly not by bond, as she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the tribe since they’d left her with a pair of gullible merchants.

Yet here they were, asking her to help them out of the goodness of her heart.

Did anyone even believe in that idealistic vomit anymore? Well, Mr. Fen was about to be taught a very important lesson about the territory of humans. After Marigola had finally collected herself, she leaned against a counter littered with various bracelets and rested a hand on her hip. “I’d apologize, but I don’t actually care about what you think. As you can see, I have my own life here, a shop I have to look after. I’m not about to drop everything just because some manhunt didn’t go well.”

The elf’s hand tightened into a fist, and the cold fire in his eyes seemed to glow brighter. “This is not a laughing matter. That creature was a Dark Elf. Its presence could only mean—”

“That I could care less?” Marigola arched a brow, a wry smirk on her face. “Dark Elves are more or less extinct around here. If there’s one crawling around, it will be caught and imprisoned, most likely to be executed thereafter.”

Oh, that was amusing. The elf’s whole face tensed up: he was trying as hard as possible not to lose his cool temperament. His lip even trembled a bit before he spoke. “Then where is it? Dark Elves are clever and merciless. We suspect it was acting as a scout, possibly even to move against Dai—”

Marigola started barking with laughter again, slapping the counter next to her with an open palm. “Haha! Let me get it—ah, ha—let me get this straight. You see some lone Dark Elf in the woods and suddenly there’s a possible war brewing? Do my ‘kin’ get any more naïve than this? Or are you trying to frighten me by suggesting that it’s a sign of attack? If there’s anything left in those woods, it’s going to be bent on harming you, not this city.”

“Listen to me.” The elf’s hands came on Marigola’s shoulders, and she tensed. For such seemingly thin arms, they had a lot of weight to them. “There’s a chance it has contacts here. Why else would it have come to a place hostile to its kind? Something is going on, and it would be in your best interests to help.”

Marigola grimaced, batting the elf’s hands away as she turned and slid around the counter. She really needed something between herself and him. “You’re not helping your chances here. If there’s a Dark Elf loose, that’s the problem of guards and your tribe, not mine. I need more motivation than “doing good” for the rest of the stupid world if you want help.”

“What is it you want?” The elf actually seemed to lighten up—the fact she was willing to help at all was enough to give him more hope than frustration.

“I want what everyone wants.” Marigola held her hand up, rubbing her thumb and index finger together. “I want something tangible, something I can live off of. Neither you nor the tribe is going to have a decent amount of money, so I want something else. I’ve seen the hunting weapons of elves and your various enchanted cloaks. If you sell those wares to me for resale, I’ll find this Dark Elf for you. I’ll let you know where he is and what’s going on with him and his potential contacts. We can talk specifics in the back room.”