Free Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen by James Barclay

illuminating the entrances to key buildings. He could smell the filthy conditions of the elven slaves even more clearly than the stench of man.
    His eyes pierced the night, giving him a clean view of the bedroom he entered. It was large. One door led to a washroom, another to a landing where guards and helpers stood. Within the room, a plain single bed and a large threadbare armchair stood in the centre of a wooden floor covered in thick rugs. Tapestries hung on the walls to keep out the draughts, but the room was otherwise without furnishing or decoration, barring a pewter chamber pot and a mug of water at the bedside.
    The man in the bed watched him drop lightly to the ground, his eyes shining wet. Takaar heard a gravelly clearing of the throat and a dry chuckle.
    ‘I wondered how long it would take you to get here,’ said Garan, his voice a rasping whisper that Takaar could barely hear. ‘I’m sorry about what happened.’
    Takaar sat, as he always did, somewhere Garan could see him without having to raise his head.
    ‘Really? Is that why you forgot to warn me last time I was here?’
    Garan sighed. ‘You have a rather exaggerated view of my influence and knowledge.’
    ‘You are not yet deaf.’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Nor are you a comedian.’
    ‘Spare me one thing in my ridiculously endless life.’
    Takaar smiled. ‘Friendship with an elf?’
    ‘I guess that’ll have to do.’
    Takaar knew that Garan could barely make him out, the natural human inability to see in the dark combined with Garan’s poor eyesight. In some ways it was a shame they could only meet during darkness. To Garan, Takaar was little more than a silhouette.
    ‘So? No need to be shy,’ said Takaar. ‘Tell me which new part of your body has stopped working or else dropped off entirely.’
    Garan’s eyes closed for a few moments before he spoke. ‘Sadly, I am slightly recovered. A couple of days ago one of Ystormun’s researchers tried a new technique for cleansing my kidneys and it appears to have worked.’
    ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
    ‘Bullshit. If I died who on earth would you talk to?’
    ‘No, I meant it. But you’re right of course.’ After all these years, he still couldn’t reconcile his feelings towards this human. ‘And don’t deny you love being a paradox.’
    ‘I want to be dead,’ whispered Garan.
    Takaar felt a squeeze on his heart. ‘Then let me kill you. Such a gift, to send you to Shorth’s embrace.’
    ‘I can’t let you. After all, then who would you have to talk to?’
    ‘Now who’s talking bullshit?’
    Garan was silent for a while and Takaar wondered if he’d fallen asleep. But his eyes opened presently and when he spoke again, his rasping voice was softer.
    ‘Why are you really here, Takaar? Not to chastise me for the attack on your people, I’m sure.’
    Garan gasped and Takaar tensed, but he knew better than to mop his brow or clutch a hand.
    ‘I thought you said you were improving?’
    ‘They haven’t quite sorted out my gut yet. Still dissolving in its own acid, or so it feels. So. Why are you here?’
    ‘I’m sure your mages have been able to detect the Il-Aryn and its principal location for decades. So this attack is . . . a change in strategy, isn’t it? It’s provocative. I expect humans across the rainforest are already dead as a result. And none of your temple attackers survived.’
    ‘Oh? I thought you always let one go to spread the fear.’
    ‘I changed my mind.’ Takaar shrugged. ‘I was going to, but I didn’t hear what I needed to.’
    ‘Which was?’
    ‘An answer to the question I just asked you. And I’m happy to kill you too, whether you answer it or not. Just say the word.’
    ‘I see I’m not the only one who’s not a comedian.’ Garan was wheezing. ‘Damn. Need to turn over. No muscle to speak of in the chest you see, so eventually my lungs slide together. Or that’s how it feels. Quite painful.’
    ‘I can imagine,’ said Takaar.
    ‘Don’t be