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other worshippers shook rattles in time with the beat. A heavy incense Zeke couldn't identify filled the air.
Colin led the way past, giving theveve a wide berth. He indicated it. "Cornmeal and iron filings," he said
quietly, his voice almost lost to the drums.
One by one the remaining worshippers began to dance, feet stamping and hips swaying. The tempo
increased, as did the dancers' speed. Zeke watched, mesmerized, as they threw their bodies around.
Colin leaned over and murmured, "Soon. One of thehounsi , a student for the priesthood, will be the
vessel. Say nothing unless you are directly addressed, for the Loa are . . . whimsical."
At that moment, the drumming reached a frenzy. A plump girl with ebony skin, wearing the white robes
of thehounsi , shrieked and fell to the ground by thepoteau-mitan , still writhing in time to the beat. The
priestess immediately raised her to her feet and bowed deeply.
The girl no, Zeke thought, it's the Loa stepped past her and touched something on the altar. The
priestess bowed even more deeply as the Loa returned to thepoteau-mitan . "You honor us, Mawu
Lisa, blessed Loa of Creation. Let us worship you and serve you."
The Loa waved her hand in dismissal, and focused on Colin and Zeke. Colin stepped forward, avoiding
the margin of theveve . After a moment Zeke followed. The priestess inclined her head, then joined the
priest at the altar.
"You are here, Ambassador." The possessed girl's voice held maturity borrowed from the Loa filling her.
"We are flattered. Your reputation precedes you; I never thought to have Irindilel's Hound in my court.
May Olorun smile upon you. Give me the stone."
With an effort, Zeke kept his face impassive while his thoughts whirled.Ambassador? Irindilel's
Hound? What the hell does that mean?
Annoyance flashed across Colin's face, but he hid it quickly and bowed, a flick of his hand indicating that
Zeke should imitate him. "I am honored to be in the presence of the Blessed Loa of Creation. I regret, O
illustrious one, the stone still eludes me, though I am on its trail. Yet why should such a trivial matter come
between friends? You know I search for it, as you know my reputation. I will retrieve your stone. Why
need the treaty expire because of a pickpocket?" His voice was soothing, reasonable.
Suddenly Zeke realized the elf was working a subtle magic. He focused his Bardic vision and saw
soothing tendrils of powder-blue power reach out to caress the Loa, then spread to the rest of the room.
"For well over a century there has been peace between the Loa and Elfhame DeepRiver. Why should we
throw it away when we have tried in all good faith to uphold our end of the bargain? I will find your stone
for you, madame."
Bright-orange confidence now overlaid reasonableness. Zeke hoped the Loa was as susceptible as he
was.
"Soft and gentle are your words, Monsieur le Prince, but while I feel our stone, darkness clouds her.
Without her magic, no treaty can exist, and great harm may befall if you do not take care."
Susceptible, but not susceptible enough. Cryptic, too. And what the hell . . . an ambassador, and now
Colin's some kind of elven prince as well?
Mawu Lisa walked over and gave Zeke the once-over. Energy touched him like insubstantial fingers and
his skin tensed as power from her flirted with his shields.
"I see you have taken this one under your protection?"
Colin moved forward, as if to step between them. "Yes. He is mine."
Always.
"Poor little Bard." And she pinched his chin. "Irindilel's Hound with a pet Bard. Just fancy!" Zeke
stiffened, but before he could protest the notion of being anyone's "pet," she turned to face Colin.
"Enough, my fine Prince. Restore the stone before our faithful have their festival, and all will be well
between us. Otherwise, the treaty will expire. You will have to tell your brother you failed to bring home
your rabbit."
Colin recoiled as if struck, then simply smiled, nodded, and said quietly, "I will find your stone, Mawu
Lisa, and deliver it to the Loa before the Krewe of Oblata parade tomorrow."
Zeke hoped his face showed determination rather than the confused jumble of questions that filled his
brain. Whatever the elf's play, he'd back it. But after ten years, maybe the two of them were overdue for
a little talk.
* * *
Been a while since I've heard that. By Danu's breath, I hate that nickname. Who have I gotten
really angry at me lately?Let's add "The Hound" to that list of things to explain to Zeke. The whole
diplomat bit was bad enough. He would not be happy with the full truth.
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