Em's eyebrows shot up. "That's elvish."
She nodded briefly, "It is. Loosely translated it means-"
Em interrupted. "Daughter of the Northern Woods."
She smiled. "You know your elvish, Mr. Johnson."
"Indeed I do, Lady Thiereliel. And may the moonlight shine forever on the tree of your ancestors."
"You have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Johnson, I'm afraid your elvish is better than mine. I am quite a few generations removed on my mother's side."
Hawke held up his hand to his partner before Em could launch into a discussion of elvish linguistics. "What we still need to know, m'lady, is how we can be of assistance to you."
She began pulling on her gloves. "I don't think you can. I am quite a bit older than I look, bless my elvish blood, but I fear that you are both younger than you look. Whatever is afoot will require a bit more…maturity."
Hawke said, "So we need to prove ourselves to you, and we can do that. You didn't mention your mother before, how does she figure into this?"
Liel shook her head. "She doesn't. My mother is dead."
Hawke countered, "Your mother is dead, you think your father is being haunted, that sounds like it could be a connection."
"Don't be absurd," Liel said. "She's been dead for almost twenty years."
Em broke in. "Time doesn't have the same meaning on the other side that it does here. It's certainly an angle to be investigated."
She pulled a small pouch from her sleeve and set it on the desk. "I will leave you these coins for your discretion over our conversation. Good day, sirs."
She was almost to the door when Hawke called out. "Do you need a demonstration?"
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