“What’s relativity?” I ask.
“In the simplest of terms, relativity defines how things relate to each other, including time.” Eldrath glances toward Zogar, who nods.
“The separation of the Darkness and the Light was done using magic, not science,” Zogar says. “And Lymbo adds a complexity, so the relationships aren’t strictly linear between the Darkness and the Light.”
I nod. “So, how will we know how much time has passed in the Light while we’re here?” I worry again about Saxon and Tynan.
“We won’t know for certain until we return,” Zogar says. “But our passage through Lymbo should stabilize the relationship.”
“So, one day here will be one moon cycle—one month—there?”
Zogar nods. “Very likely.” Then he turns toward Eldrath. “Why did you want to meet?”
“First, may I offer you some refreshment?” Eldrath asks.
A man appears. He’s human, I feel quite certain, and he carries a small tray of glasses containing an iridescent, bubbling liquid.
Zogar shakes his head, refusing to take one, and frowns as I accept mine.
“I assure you,” Eldrath says, “starseep fizz is quite safe—both for humans and dragons.” He smiles softly.
“You have a human slave,” Zogar blurts angrily, as the man again offers him a drink.
The human startles. “Sir, I am no slave, I assure you. I never have been. Eldrath is myemployer,and this is the best job I’ve ever had.”
“Thank you, Marque,” Eldrath says. The man nods and then walks away.
“Your home is lovely.” I take a small sip of my drink, and my eyes widen. “And this is the most delicious concoction I’ve ever tasted.” It’s ice cold, faintly sweet, somewhat floral, but it’s also tart, and the bubbles dance on my tongue.
“I’m glad you like it.” Eldrath smiles. “It is made from many ingredients, but the nottoosecret, secret ingredient—” he winks “—is the nectar of starseep flowers. Very hard to find.”
“It’s delicious.” I take another sip. I like this elven overlord. He’s made me far more comfortable than any of the other superi sovereigns did. Certainly more comfortable than Lucian. Not that I would have ever expected to feel comfortable around a vampyre.
“Speaking of homes,” Zogar says. “I require one in this city. How does one go about finding a suitable property?”
Eldrath nods. “I’ll put you in touch with an agent who can help. I can also provide you with funds?—”
“I do not require your funds.” Zogar interrupts Eldrath’s generous offer, then frowns. “Assuming I can find my hoard.”
“Perhaps I can be of assistance in that regard,” Eldrath says. “Our people have maps going back many centuries. They might help you pinpoint your hoard’s last location.”
Zogar’s eyes narrow. His distrust is so thick I almost choke.
“That’s very generous,” I say to Eldrath, and then shoot Zogar a look. I understand why he’s being cautious, but he said we need allies, and it seems to me that Eldrath is a far better choice of ally than Lucian, the only other sovereign who’s offered any help.
“I won’t reveal my hoard’s location,” Zogar says. “Not to anyone.”
“Of course not.” Eldrath nods. “I’ll make sure you receive copies of all the relevant maps. None of my people will know which areas you’re focussed on.”
Zogar’s posture relaxes—just slightly—and unease unwinds inside me as well. Until it began to release, I hadn’t realized how tightly tension had coiled in my belly.
“I wish you the best of luck in locating your hoard.” Eldrath says. “Although I must warn you that searching for abandoned hoards became somewhat of a sport after you dragons disappeared.”
Zogar’s brow furrows, and I fear he’s about to dispute Eldrath’s choice of words, but then he relaxes again, as much as myhusband ever relaxes. “No doubt many of our hoards have been raided. Fucking wyvern.”
“I hope yours has remained intact,” Eldrath says. “And I’m glad to assist in your search in any way that I can. He picks up a small device. Its smooth surface, like glass, lights up as he lifts it, and Eldrath touches it several times in various places.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
