Never heard of no lyrilim before that night, but I can add two and two. Saw her move,
saw her heal. And we already know angels misbehave with humans now and then, so why not
with elfs.
The patrons was on their feet, some ready to rabbit, some ready to jump in the scrap. The
dark-haired elf, Vassilyvich or whatever, jumped on a table and shouted, “Hold fast, good
friends! I represent Favenheld Dale, and come with peace to halt a grave injustice!”
“What injustice?” called some schmoe.
He jabbed a finger. “This lady, Elladonna, was rightly banished from the Mystic Realms.
She stole from the Dragons, and by that stealing nearly brought about a war between our
peoples.”
“Which I stopped,” the elf -chick said, examining her fingernails.
“By making the Dragons look like idiots. The balance of peace is now tenuous at best,
and you kn ow the terms of your exile. You shall return when the political maelstrom you’ve
engendered is resolved. It may take many hundred summers, but such is the judgment of the
Council.”
“Hold up a sec,” I said. “How exactly do you stop a dragon war?”
She glance d over at me. “By paying the Flame Tribute.”
“The what now?”
“For a cessation of hostilities, I let their chieftain bathe me in his fiercest fires.”
“Oh, I see. And then you healed up on the spot and danced away.”
“I most certainly did not dance in front o f those reptiles. I was entirely naked, for one
thing.”
“Sorry I missed that.”
71
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