“THIS IS YOUR FAULT! IF YOU WOULD HAVE JUST CHOSEN HER, SHE WOULD BE HERE WITH US! YOU SELFISH JACKASS! SHE’S GONE! THAT PSYCHO OF A KING THAT YOU WORSHIP HAS HER!” Elora collapsed at his feet, her breathing was ragged and the tears poured freely down her face. “You could have kept her safe,” her voice was barely a whisper. “You could have protected her. Nobody dares to mess with Mr. Bad Ass assassin, huh? Well you can’t protect her if you are not with her.” Elora rose back to her feet. “So this is on YOU!” She jabbed a finger at him.

Lisa stepped forward and pulled Elora into a hug. The fact that she allowed the physical contact was a testament to the amount of pain Elora was feeling at losing her best friend.

Trik stared at the human. She was so small, so breakable, and for a moment he was tempted to remind her that he was not one to be trifled with. But he knew that she was hurting for her friend and that hurt brought about anger and anger caused people to often do things they would not normally do, so he would let her insolence slide. Not to mention, she was exactly right.

He looked back to the two prisoners.

“Alok,” Trik said his name softly.

“It’s been a while Trik,” Alok said as he composed himself and tried to tamp down his fear. His words were conversational though his voice shook.

“I’ve been busy.”

Alok seemed to gather his courage. “Busy being a deserter? A traitor to your people?” He spat at his former leader.

Trik simply stared at him. Alok’s eyes shifted nervously.

“I’m going to ask you some questions,” Trik said calmly, too calmly. “You have one chance to answer them.”

Alok simply stared back.

“Where is Cassie being kept?”

No answer.

“That’s one,” Trik told him. “Has she been hurt?”

No answer.

“That’s two.” Trik’s voice never raised, his composure never wavered. “What does Lorsan want with her?”

No answer.

“That’s three.” Trik stepped back.

“Just get it over with and kill me, Triktapic,” Alok snarled.

Trik ignored him. He looked over to Lisa. “Do you have a tool box?”

Lisa slowly nodded her head.

“Could you please bring it to me?”

“Trik,” Tamsin warned.

Trik looked up at the King. “She is my Chosen, what would you have me do? What would you do to find Syndra if she had been taken?”

“Anything,” Tamsin answered without hesitation.

Lisa returned with the tool box and handed it to Trik. Trik set it down on the floor next to his feet. He then looked over at Lisa, Elora and Syndra. “It would be best if you closed your store and left.”

Syndra rolled her eyes. “I’m not leaving Trik. I’ve seen it all. But I agree Elora and Lisa should not see this.”

Lisa started to pull Elora from the room but Elora pulled away and walked over to the chair where Alok sat. She looked into his eyes , her mind registering that this elf knew where Cassie was, knew what was being done to her. Before she had even made the decision she slapped him hard across the face. She then turned to the female.

“Who is she?” She asked the room.

“She is one of Lorsan’s warriors. She’s a transmuter; she can mimic the appearance and voice of another. That is who lured Cassie away,” Trik explained his voice deceptively calm as he watched Elora.

Elora looked deep into the she-elf’s eyes and it took everything in her not to punch the woman in the face.

“If we don’t get Cassie back I will personally beat the ever loving crap out of you. I don’t care who you are or how black your soul is. If my best friend comes to harm because of you, you will know what evil is because I will rip you apart myself and smile while I do it.” She turned to look at Trik. “Get her back.”

Everyone in the room was silent and their mouths had dropped open at the sight of the human girl threatening to do unspeakable things to a dark elf, and she meant it. There was not a doubt in their minds that Elora was not bluffing.

Trik bowed his head to her as a show of submission to her wishes.

Elora turned and left the storeroom without another word, Lisa following behind her, the shocked look still plastered on her face.

Trik knelt down and opened the tool box. He found what he was looking for and stood back up.

“I told you that you had one chance to answer my questions. I never said I was going to kill you.” As he spoke he took Alok’s hand and held it steady. The needle nose pliers he held, guided by his experienced hand, latched onto the first fingernail. They were short so he had to push the nose of the pliers under the nail to be able to grab it. Without any warning he ripped the nail from his finger.

Alok screamed in pain. Trik didn’t appear to hear him as he moved to the next nail and then the next. He stopped after the third nail had been torn away. Alok was writhing in pain, breathing heavily. His face was red, his brow damp with sweat.

“Three questions not answered. Three nails ripped from your hand.” Trik set the pliers down on the counter and stood before Alok, just as calm as before he had tortured the elf.

“I am going to ask you some questions. You have one chance to answer them.” Trik repeated his earlier words.

Alok groaned and gritted his teeth. “I won’t betray my race as you did, Trik. I won’t betray my King.”

Trik smiled, and it was not the smile of a sane man. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.