The sun set and twilight deepened, and still we waited. Demay soon grew tired of paintings, stained glass windows, and statues. He shifted and fidgeted. Behast was as still as a statue, but his fingers kept trying to grab a phantom sword. I looked at every servant and guard who walked by, hoping it was the princess. I prayed she would recognize me, smile, and say everything was all right. She never came. Prastian was the calmest one of us all. He stood still and politely greeted everyone who walked by. He struck up a couple of conversations, trying to get information, but no one wanted to stop and chat.
“You're getting nowhere, Prastian,” Behast said.
Prastian smiled at the bigger elf. “That's not true. I've learned plenty of things. I’ve learned that everyone here is tense, and they’re looking over their shoulders as if they expect to be punished at any moment. More importantly, I've learned that no one's seen the other elves, and Jerrel hasn’t lied to us.”
“Then where are they?” Demay asked.
“I wish I knew, little brother. I wish I knew.” Prastian took a deep breath. “I can only pray to the gods the king knows and is able to help us.”
“And where is the human king?” Behast asked. “Does he normally keep you waiting this long?”
Prastian shook his head. “No, and that worries me. Even if the king were detained by a crisis, one of his advisors would normally come and greet us, offering refreshments. To ignore a direct envoy from another monarch is a grave breach of protocol.”
As time passed, my empty stomach rumbled from the lack of food. All of us were so tired of waiting we didn't even have the energy to speak to each other anymore. Prastian gave up trying to talk to the people that came by. We just stood there, absorbed in our own thoughts.
Finally, a guard came up to us and said, “The king will be here shortly.”
Behast snorted.
Before Behast could say anything, Prastian said in a pleasant voice, “Thank you. We know how busy kings can be.”
The guard nodded and left.
“Prastian,” an aged, sickly voice said. “It's good to see you again.” We all turned to see who it was.
The king had entered through a door near the throne. He was dressed in white velvet, jewel-encrusted robes that flowed behind him in a train. The robes made him look small, and he walked as if he were weak and frail, not like a man who controlled the most vital pass between the Wastelands and Northern Shala. The king came forward and sat upon his throne. Dark purple circles surrounded his eyes. A dark form followed him through the door and stood obscured in the shadows.
“Your Majesty,” Prastian said. We all dropped to one knee.
“Prastian, my friend,” King Furlong said. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time. Too long. I've missed your company.” He managed a weak but sincere smile.
“And I've missed yours, Your Majesty.”
The king opened his mouth to speak, but a coughing fit seized him. He looked like he wouldn’t be able to stop. Servants moved in to help, but he got hold of himself and waved them away. He rubbed a silk cloth over his forehead. One of the servants brought him a cup of water.
“Forgive the interruption.” King Furlong drank the water and sighed in relief. “There’s nothing like water to cure what ails you.” He took a deep breath before squinting at me. “Who is the human with you, Prastian? He’s strangely dressed for spring.”
“He’s a friend and advisor of King Sharald’s, sire. Our king thought it best that he should come with us.”
The king nodded. “Why are you here, Prastian?” Though he spoke to the elf, the king never took his eyes off me. Despite how sick he looked, his blue eyes were like a hawk's.
“Our king sent us here to follow up on a delegation that was sent here before us. It's been weeks, and we've heard nothing from them.”
The king leaned forward. “I've not seen any elves lately.”
“Are you sure, Sire? They should have been here.”
“I'm positive. I've not seen any elves.” The king glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of each guard and servant. They all shook their head no.
My eyes met the king's, and I believed him.
“Why did King Sharald send his elves here?” King Furlong asked.
“Your Majesty, as of late we have encountered many creatures from the Wastelands in our forests, and have heard reports and rumors throughout the land of many more, wreaking havoc. We know some creatures are bound to get through into Northern Shala, but there haven’t been this many incidents since the War of the Wizards.”
King Furlong inhaled, his wispy breath echoing through the great hall. An expression of worry came over his face. “I don’t understand, old friend. I’ve not heard of such reports.”