14th Day of Coldeven, 565 CY
An unknown inn room

The wardog slammed into Tadoa at full speed, knocking the short sword out of the child's hand. The animal's teeth closed on the elf's throat, holding it fast but not yet puncturing the skin. Tad toppled backwards...

...and landed, not on the ground but on a bed (although of such poor quality it wasn't all that much softer). Tadoa felt a crushing pressure on his chest as Mirage was instantly replaced by a human clad in full plate mail. The room was still spinning from his fall, there were people (at least two; one sounded like Aslan) yelling, and Tad's dagger was being removed from its sheath. When the young elf finally got his bearings back and realized that he was in what looked like an inn room, that same dagger was being pressed against his neck, discouraging any movement whatsoever.

The man who was now bent over the bed and wielding the dagger looked to be about forty years old. He had a mutton-chop beard, rather dirty-looking, curly gray hair and light brown eyes that radiated an attitude of disgust. He wore a black, belted leather tunic. Tadoa recognized him instantly from Thorin's description. Nodyath's ally.

Aslan's counterpart was straightening himself up now, while catching his breath. He turned to regard the child, his cold, light blue eyes locked onto Tad's. Most of his face was hidden behind his great helm, but his voice carried a cruel smile along with it.

"You liked that dog, didn't you?"

Tad said nothing. He still couldn't believe that Aslan's voice, which he knew so well, could ever utter such hateful words.

Nodyath drew his longsword from his sheath. Mirage's blood was still on it. The fighter looked at his weapon, then back at the elf.

"You like all your animal companions. The dogs, the pegasi, those horses. I know you do. You've spent enough time with them."

He resheathed his weapon, not taking his eyes off Tad.

"When I'm done here, I'm going to go back there and kill them. Every last one of them."

Tadoa closed in eyes as the sorrow washed over him. He tried to stop the tears, but they still trickled out. When he opened them again, the man with the dagger was grinning evilly at him.

Nodyath's eyes continued to bore into his.

"Pain", the psionic said softly. "That's good. You still know only the barest taste of the pain I've suffered, but you'll know more. Soon enough."

The young elf found his anger.

"Since you're so good at reading minds," he hissed softly at Nodyath, "you should have no trouble at all understanding this."

Tad began mentally hurling every elvish curse he could think of at Nodyath. Many of them had no direct translation in Common. The curly-haired man's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them.

Nodyath remained impassive for a few moments, then made the barest gesture to his ally. The dagger pressed down, ever so slightly and across at an angle, drawing a thin line of blood. Tad gasped and went silent.

Aslan's counterpart continued to stare at the youth.

So much for not being sadistic, you monster, thought the elf. I guessed you lied to Cygnus about that too, just like you lied about everything else!

Nodyath's eyes went wide and he reached down over the bed. The dagger was withdrawn as Nodyath's gauntleted hand closed around the child's neck.

"Your fate is your own doing, elf!" He spat. "If Cygnus had given me that scroll, none of this would have happened! Apparently, attempted assassination is morally acceptable to you, as long as it's your side doing the killing!"

The man with the mutton-chop beard chuckled slightly. "That's always the way it is, isn't it?"

Nodyath's gaze darted momentarily over to his companion, then refocused on Tad. His fingers tightened their grip.

"I'll admit, that bastard Cygnus got me so enraged, I almost made a fatal error." Nodyath relaxed his fingers just enough to let his captive breathe.

"After I healed myself from that explosion, I teleported right back to your inn in a fury." He made a small, self-depreciating chuckle. "Of course, after that my Talent was nearly depleted. I had to assume fly-form and go to sleep right there and wait until morning."

Tadoa's eyes went wide with shock.

THE ROCK! His mind screamed to itself. THE ROCK! IT WORKED! IT WORKED! NODYATH WAS RIGHT THERE! HE WAS RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF US THE WHOLE TIME, AND WE NEVER KNEW IT!

He saw Nodyath look at him sharply.

By Corellon! If he reads my mind, he'll know about The Rock! He'll know-

Tadoa tried to cut off all rational thought and instead filled his mind with an image of Nodyath being burned to death by Cygnus' explosive runes. He let the hate and disappointment that Nodyath had survived flood into his heart. Anger, rage, grief...

The child didn't know if Nodyath was fooled or hadn't tried to read his mind at all at that moment, but after several seconds the suspiciousness faded from the Talent's eyes, and he resumed his former demeanor.

"Then, when I woke up, there were about twenty of you there. Too many even for me to take on. Of course by then, I'd cooled down enough to realize that all I had to do was wait for the right moment. Then that warlord rode up, and then the dragon..."

The intensity of Nodyath's voice dropped another notch. "I assumed that would be the end of you people. By the time I realized differently, I had other concerns." Those eyes bore in on the elf again. "I needed money. Lots of it, mostly to replace what you denied me". A snarl crept back into his voice, and Tad shivered in his grasp, his manufactured anger completely evaporated.

Nodyath smiled. His voice was now very soft.

"And I'm going to make a lot of money off you, my fellow... Rolexian? Is that the term?"

Tadoa could only see a portion of Nodyath's smile behind his helm of telepathy, but it made him go cold. He doubted Aslan could have smiled like that if he tried.

The door to the room opened partially. A woman's face peered in. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with black hair, cut short, and blue eyes. She looked at Tadoa and caught her breath.

The elf stared at her. He had never seen this human before, but he knew instantly who it was. The similarity was far too great for coincidence.

Talat! That's got to be Talat!

The cleric looked over at Nodyath. She said nothing, but the fighter grew irritated.

"Shut the door, woman! You want us to be discovered? There's nothing here that concerns you!"

Talat's eyes dropped momentarily. "There's no reason to hurt him needlessly. It's bad enough what's going to happen to him once they get their hands on him..."

The worst feeling of fear Tadoa had ever experienced in his entire life flooded into his young body. He could feel some part of him trying to keep himself from slipping into shock. He didn't even know whom Talat was referring to.

But if it could frighten a priestess of Hextor...

Nodyath's voice was level as he gazed at her. "I'm not the one who's going to hurt him."

Talat's face grew stern. The same fire that Tad had seen in Aunt Talass' eyes now flashed in her sister's.

"Don't hide behind semantics, Nodyath." She looked back over to the elf and her eyes grew sad, almost moist. "He's only a child," she whispered, then gazed at Nodyath again. The Talent looked as if he wanted to avoid her eyes but couldn't.

"A child," Talat repeated. "Remember, Nodyath? A child?"

Nodyath looked at Tadoa. The elven boy stared back into those light blue eyes.

For a moment that he never wanted to end, he saw Aslan in those eyes.

The moment ended. Nodyath looked back at Talat.

"Not my child," he sneered at her and got up. The man in the black tunic quickly moved the dagger back near Tad's throat, but all thoughts of resistance had long fled the elf's mind. Nodyath left the room, pulling the door behind them as he left. Tadoa caught a final glimpse of Talat's face looking at him before it was gone.

Tadoa tried to keep his voice from shaking, but it was a lost cause.

"Who are you?" he asked the man.

The man leered back at him.

"Ask your friend, Thorin." Without taking his eyes off the elf, his left hand began fumbling with his belt.

"Nodyath says you Rolex elves are the same as the ones here. Sleep spells don't work on you."

The man's hand moved on, to a pouch that he lifted off his belt. As he raised it higher, Tadoa could see that it was in fact not a belt pouch at all, but a sap.

"All the more fun for me."

The sap descended. Again, Tad's reflexes failed him, but this time he knew only darkness.