Rhychard stared at Tryna as the ellyll turned her gaze toward Famallumi. With a deep breath, the small faerie turned back to Pux, her hands still on her thighs. “This is your area, is it not?” she asked the gnome.
“Pah!” the tiny man spat. “My job is to keep an eye on her, not feed her information. Are you not the Keeper of Knowledge? Isn’t that wisp of an elf a Lore Master Apprentice? Don’t you have answers?”
“One of you has an answer,” Rhychard shouted. “Now someone, and I really don’t care which one of you it is, needs to spill it. The time for secrets is over.”
Tryna turned to him, her catlike eyes patient. “Warrior, you should know better by now. I do not keep secrets from you. Why would I keep this from you? No one could have foreseen this happening.”
“And just why did it happen?” Rhychard grew tired of needing to ask all the questions before any answers were given.