Not long ago, Lithilyn would have called her resolve unshakeable. Now? After seeing the results of Pyathen acid in person, she needed to divert the attention for a minute until she was gathered enough to negotiate terms of any kind. “Before we proceed, I do have a few personal questions largely unrelated to this negotiation.”

  ***

  Banon leaned forward, hesitant, hanging on her word.

  “Firstly why did they take that girl’s eyes?”

  “It’s the only part of the body that will not be burned.”

  “What will they do with them?”

  “Preserve them.”

  “Then what?”

  Banon looked at her for a long moment before turning his eyes away briefly. “Curiosity, I can indulge. But some things are ours and ours alone.”

  “Very well,” Lithilyn said. “The Yibu… you have befriended such creatures? How? They have no language.”

  Banon frowned for a moment until he realized she was talking about the Yubuou. “Just because they cannot use words as we do does not mean you cannot come to an understanding.”

  She blinked at him blankly, despite Banon thinking that an apt explanation.

  Eventually he caved and gave her more. “I am less friends with the Yubuou as a whole, and more friends with one. His name is Ugtang.”

  “His name? They do not have names.” She shook her head. “Still, tell me, do more of your people befriend Yibu?”

  Banon sighed. “The Yubuou are spirits who were too kind to be allowed to suffer like us, which is why they are protected by us. Ooura and Yubuou rarely interact beyond in passing, as far as I know. Like you said, they cannot speak to us, so there it is.”

  “But they listened to you.”

  “The one I have a friendship with listens to me, and his tribe listened to him. I think you overestimate the significance.”

  “The significance of an entire new–” she cut off, shook her head in annoyance, and flashed him an unknowable glance. “I apologize. We should get to the discussions at hand, I just wish you had more answers. I never thought I would see Yibu myself, given their illusive tendencies.”

  Banon frowned. She had an awful lot of knowledge of a creature of the deep jungle for someone who had spent most of her life in a palace atop the corpse of a mew tree. “And I wish I had more time to ask you about your own knowledge. I know your kind remembers in writing. Mine remembers in spoken words, in stories and knowledge our elders carry until they have passed it on to the next generation, and so then it repeats.” He levelled a long glare at her. “Until something comes along and kills those knowledge keepers. You have stolen much history and wisdom from my people already in the lives you have taken.”

  “You are not the only one who has been stolen from,” she replied, finding some of her resolve returning to her. “As recently as last night, in fact, something very precious has been stolen from me. A life whose responsibility was mine to oversee.” She gave him a hard look, one in which she seemed to be searching for a reaction. She didn’t seem to see what she was looking for, judging from the flush of frustration afterwards. “One of my guard disappeared last night, gone from our camp at the edge of your clearing without a trace. Do you have any idea what might have happened to him?”

  Banon heard a noise that would certainly have been too quiet for her to hear with her elven senses, but to his, it was clear as a voice spoken in his ear. He zoned in on the area of the room it came from quickly, and there, unsurprisingly sat Tema, his twitching lips over baring teeth making a series of wet scrapes and slaps.

  Banon turned his attention away from the animal and back to her. He looked hard into her eyes and saw that she was not lying for the sake of something else, and combined with Tema’s reaction, it wasn’t hard to figure out what happened. Inwardly, Banon cursed Tema’s name for all it was worth. “I promise you, it was none of my doing.”

  “Fine,” she conceded, though her face told him things were much the opposite. In honesty, he could not blame her. If their places were switched, he would have pushed far harder on this point. The only reason he could think to the contrary is the fact that she must be aware it was impossible to prove wrong doing at this point. Or, Banon could only assume it was. After all, if Tema had been seen dragging one of the elves into the jungle, this surely would be a much different discussion.

  ***

  Well, it wasn’t as if she expected to get anything more from it. If Banon’s reaction had been anything other than genuine surprise, she would not have dropped it at that. But as things were, she had no proof, let alone reason to believe he was lying in his claim that he personally was not involved. And in honesty, even she could not rule out the possibility it had simply been a predator attack. Swamp lions, for one, were known nocturnal hunters with a knack for stealth.

  However, those side tangents in the conversation had allowed her the time to regather her thoughts. And as things were, there was hardly a positive angle to be found. Between their own overuse of their new weapon polluting the jungle, and the rising numbers of hunting parties falling to Ooura raiders, merely sustaining the status quo was not an option. And since the predominant theory back home was based more on finding a way to blame the Ooura exclusively rather than admit to even to a partial blame being laid on their own actions, she was left with few options.

  There were less grazing animals wandering through their forests, even in the untainted regions. And since they still had yet to see a tainted section of jungle make a full recovery, there was no way to tell how long, if not permanent, such problems would last.

  The way Lithilyn saw it, her goal here was singular. Any agreement was better than none, even if she was not sure she could back up her side once back home. There just weren’t any better options. She just had to hope that a promise from the Ooura would hold more weight if Lithilyn was the one to deliver it back home personally.

  ***

  “If we are to talk about what has been taken,” Banon said, picking up the conversation after a bout of silence.“There is a village called Bodasdam, a village full of innocents. Your death droppers attempted a covert attack on it, intending to poison the same water supply drank by children and babes. None of your murderers returned that night, did they?”

  She looked him up and down, completely unmoved, blank in the face. “I think we both already knew that.”

  Banon tried to hide how annoyed it made him that she wasn’t intimidated, outwardly anyways. She seemed to notice it though, showing the tiniest fraction of amusement on her face as he frowned. “Good,” he went on, “Then we have established what is already known. Death looms in all directions of this conflict. There is no point in comparing whose is worth more or less. All that matters is that we work towards an end to it.”

  “Of that, we can agree.”

  “Well, if we are of the same mind, then what need is there to talk?” Banon asked, spreading his hands out wide.

  “If only it were so simple.”

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  “What about it is not?” he asked.

  “Everything. Our needs for food grow beyond what the near jungle can provide as populations prosper, and new spires are being built to both the west and east. Whether a crusade against your kind is off the table or on it, nothing is going to stand in the way of our expansion. The only reason I am here is because I, among some like-minded others, view it as below ourselves to wipe you out completely in the process. I am here to make you an offer that works in both of our favors. If there could be a promise of conditional peace between us, then perhaps I could use that promise to stave off the more radical factions within my family until a more permanent solution is reached.”

  Banon raised an eyebrow. What she really meant, he suspected, was that his group of unconventional raiders–many of which were young enough to have yet taken their trials–had been stretching the Donai family’s hunting parties ability to function to the brink. After all, that was the only front on which the Ooura were not consistently finding themselves overpowered, as minor as it was in comparison to the continued devastation of village after village. It was exactly what Banon had been working towards; proof that a more subtle, targeted touch was the way to win this war. Whittling them down may not hold the same glory as standing in a shield wall, but nothing besides results should be looked to when in a position as desperate as the Ooura empire found itself in. However, he still found it strange this would happen so soon. He thought his efforts were more on the level of ensuing fear and unease. A morale hit. Less that his occasional, isolated attacks were putting a dent in their overall food supply.

  Right now, however, he was questioning all of that.

  Good. They needed this leverage, especially considering the gamble Banon was about to make.

  “Peace?” Banon asked.

  “Temporary, but yes, peace. An end to the bitter wars that have plagued our respective peoples for centuries.”

  “Peace,” Banon repeated, leaning back. “Everything about this is too abrupt, far too simple. You are to be married imminently, a prospect that will strengthen your already growing power. The Enka are undoubtedly an ally that provide you more strength than we possibly could, so why come here at all? Why risk so much to speak to me, to us?”

  “Because sometimes the price for more power is too much.”

  “Are you saying that you do not favor that alliance?”

  “My family favors it very much,” she replied evenly.

  “But you?”

  “I believe when you give humans any power at all, they reinforce it, grow it like a parasite within you. And then, before you know it, you are an accessory to their wealth. Nothing more.”

  Now that was interesting. Banon put on a wide smile. Perhaps his gamble had more chance of succeeding than he might have thought. “Let me tell you what I think. I think much of your claims of imminent expansion are false, and I will not be intimidated by them. I believe that your hunters are weary from fear of who might be waiting for them should they cross to far into our jungle. I think your marriage to the Enka prince is one of desperation, not opportunity. I think you are afraid, Lithilyn. And your weakness shows.” Banon gestured at the Pyathen around them. “So, I will put a condition on this peace agreement appropriate to where the leverage lies. If you want the raids on your hunters to stop, there is only one condition I require you to agree to.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Marriage,” Banon said simply, ignoring the eruption of whispers coming from various places in the chamber behind him.

  “Marriage?” she repeated. “To you?” she asked, her tone full of confusion.

  “Joining houses might be to your detriment with the Enka, but with us? Your spire is the closest to the Ooura controlled jungle, meaning you are most effected by the raids I lead on your hunting parties. Maybe you can afford to ignore it for now, but it is only a matter of time before I am emperor. And then, with that power, and what I know of how your food gatherers operate, I will place a weight on your resource supply you cannot bear.” Banon paused only long enough to hear a scattering of quiet hisses coming from behind him. He leaned forward towards the Donai princess, ignoring them. “Or, you can agree to a complete peace, not a conditional one. Our peoples joined. In name if nothing else.”

  ***

  Despite his offer of binding, there was something in his eye that spoke of danger regardless of her answer. She had known any kind of successful negotiation would be incredibly unlikely, even with their clear leverage above the Ooura savages–and the leverage was theirs, no matter how much of what he said was the truth. Her people were capable of doing far more damage to the Ooura than the reverse, and far more likely to as they got more desperate.

  Regardless of truth or logic, however, something in the air told her that one wrong move could turn their festival hall into a bloodbath. And yet, it was hard not to admire someone who spoke what they believed. And he believed it, she could tell. Misguided and insane or otherwise, he did believe it.

  It was then that she noticed how crestfallen one of the three girls who had been left standing at the head of the chamber looked. She almost felt bad for her, savage or not, until she noticed the girl's eyes were not forlorn on the son of the emperor, but rather they were looking down off to the far end of the seated elders. There, an elder was looking back at her, making a clearly apologetic look.

  Lithilyn almost had to smile at that. It was clear to her instantly what was happening. This son was clearly someone who the elders had designs on reigning in, and this one, whether a daughter or a niece to the elder she was gazing so forlornly at, had been designed to do just that.

  The other two had more muted reactions, to their credit. The tallest one, who was so broad she looked more imposing than some of the Ooura men in the chamber, was utter unmoved. While the shorter one who wore a similar–if less ostentatious–version of the tasseled furs, looked merely curious as to what Lithilyn would say.

  However, Banon was only waiting on the reaction of one.

  Hers.

  ***

  “No,” she said, gradually scowling deeper and deeper. “No, I will not do that.”

  Banon told himself that was the outcome he had hoped for. It would, at least, make his next proposal seem minor in comparison. “I will then request something else,” Banon replied, feigning that he was rattled by her denial. What he requested next, however, needed to be accepted. It was the key to the plan he had been working at for years not, yet had only crystalized once he had learned of the Donai princess coming here in person during that fateful night when he and Lonka had been caught eavesdropping on the elders. “I will request instead, that in exchange for my agreement to halt raiding on your hunting parties, that you provide one hundred Enka crossbows to us, and one Enka ballista.”

  She scoffed almost as noticeably as when he proposed marriage.

  He tried not to think much of that.

  “It would take money, time! Too much money!” she shot back.

  “You have them present in your own spire city already. I know you do. Trade between Enka and your family may not flow as freely as it does to spires closer to the human mountain cities, but that does not mean it has never occurred.”

  He let her open her mouth to retort before overpowering her voice intentionally. “We do not intend to cripple your own spires defenses, if that is your next thought. One of your five ballistae, and a few crossbows that you already have will not render you vulnerable enough for a takeover, from us or otherwise.”

  She gaped at him.

  Banon, despite himself, shifted uneasily. This was the turning point, good or bad.

  Lonka’s voice, of all people, came from somewhere unseen. Judging from the direction, it sounded like he had climbed on top of the outside of the chamber to eavesdrop. “There is always the first proposal–”

  The princess leaned closer towards him, anger slowly replacing confusion on her face. “This is a ploy! Some kind of trick!”

  Banon shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe we simply want to test a new variety of shield against your strongest ranged weapons.”

  “Our acid launchers are our strongest weapons!”

  “In a sense, but I am not asking for those.”

  She stopped herself from responding again, instead taking the time to think, shaking her head all the while. “This is an expensive… foolhardy request. Your people are not capable of using crossbows sized for us. A single ballista will not be enough to increase your defenses by any meaningful degree. If you choose to use it offensively on our spire, even with your kinds strength you will not retreat with it in time to escape our wrath. Why not ask for a ceasing of our death droppers raiding your villages in return? Even if only a temporary one?”

  Banon shrugged. The truth was that he wanted exactly that. But a temporary peace was also not worth the price of discontinuing his only consistent way to weaken the Pyathen. If he could get his hands on what he was asking her for, then he could have it both ways. Agree to cease his raiding for now, and in exchange receive what he needed to scale their palace and pluck her from it. From there, he would have all the leverage, and no reason not to continue whittling away at their resources and morale. Not to mention that having their heir indefinitely captured would do more than whittle, it would shatter their morale, their hope, and force the same fear into their hearts that his people had known for decades. “To die now or to die later is the decision of the old and sick.” It was Banon’s turn to lean forward, now, and his long torso took him much closer. “Your people may be a sickness upon mine, but my people will never give up fighting until we find the cure. We will go down with a fight, or we will refuse to go down at all. One hundred crossbows, one ballista, that is my bargain in exchange for an end to my raiding. However, I cannot promise not to continue defending our villages against your death droppers or any ground assaults.”

  She didn’t have a response for that for an uncomfortable amount of time.

  Banon, eventually, realized he should probably lean back. He had been leering almost directly face to face with her. She smelled like ground-up nettles, so much so it had been an effort not to wrinkle his nose while he was that close. Soon, though, as the flesh of the eagle was digested, she would gain an aroma of sweetness overpowering even to the dim senses of elves.

  “If I agree to this, you will cease your raiding? It must be a total stop. One hunting party goes missing and we respond with another dead village.”

  Banon cleared his throat while he leaned away, then made a compromising gesture. “Agreed. So, is this a deal?”

  ***

  Lithilyn steadied herself.

  And then decided to take a chance.