David Dalglish - A Dance of Ghosts

What I’d give to have seen their faces, Alyssa thought as she set the eyes into a glass with a thin layer of alcohol at the bottom. They must have thought me out of my mind.

It wasn’t that much of a stretch, really. She’d long felt the eyes of her enemies circling her. Now without her own, she knew it was only a matter of time before they closed in, snatching at whatever they could get. Her only hope rested in people like Zusa and John Gandrem protecting her interests, and even then, they faced an impossible task.

Alyssa removed her robe and slid naked underneath the silken sheets. They were cold, and she shivered, arms crossed and knees drawn to her chest, as she waited for them to warm. Her breathing steadily slowed, and head sunk into a giant feathered pillow, she tried to relax. Yet she couldn’t. Something bothered her, even as the rest of her body warmed. A window, she realized. The quiet of her room was not complete, the soft rustle of air she felt on her cheek not supposed to be there. Sitting up with the blankets pulled to her chest, she addressed the darkness.

“Who is there?” she asked. “Say your name now. If I hear any other noise, I will scream for my guards.”

“Your senses are to be commended,” said a deep voice at the foot of her bed. “Given what I know of your personality, you might have been a fine member of my guild in a different life.”

“Who are you?” she asked, though in the pit of her stomach she felt certain she already knew.

“Come, now, surely you can guess?”

Spoken with such confidence, such condescension. You are a child to me, that voice said, just a silly, stupid child, and it annoyed Alyssa to no end.

“There are plenty in this city with the skill to sneak past my guards,” she said, hoping to deflate him the tiniest bit. “Is there a reason you think you are special?”

The intruder laughed. Controlled. Amused. A predator’s laugh.

“I need not think it,” he said. “I know it, and you do too, don’t you, Alyssa? The moment I spoke to reveal my presence, a chill ran down your spine, and with an absolute certainty came to you a name. Please, say it, and don’t lie. It proves nothing if you lie.”

Alyssa swallowed.

“Muzien,” she said. “Muzien the Darkhand.”

The elf clapped, and she wondered if the servant outside her door would hear it. Pulling the blankets tighter about her, she slid her free hand underneath her pillow, to the dagger hidden there.

“See, was that so hard? Now spare me your sarcasm and petty attempts to insult me while hiding your fear. We have things to discuss, you and I.”

“I will have no business with you,” Alyssa said. “And if you’ve come to kill me, just do it now. I will not beg for your amusement.”

“Amusement?” Again Muzien laughed. It was from a different direction than before, and when he spoke again, the location had changed once more. He was moving about her, constantly forcing her to readjust his mental position in her head. Anything to make her uncomfortable, she realized, as if being naked and helpless were not enough to accomplish that.

“My dear, if I wanted amusement, I would have gone elsewhere. Tonight is business, whether you wish it or not.”

Her fingers closed about the dagger’s hilt. With her blankets raised, her actions should have been hidden. There was no chance she could strike him when ready, but if he were to make a move on her, thinking her helpless …

“Get on with it, then,” she said, raising her voice the slightest amount. If only the servant outside would hear her voice, realize she spoke with someone when she was supposed to be alone.

“Gladly.”

So close to her right ear she felt the heat of his breath on her skin. Her entire body tensed, and in that half second, she felt a tug on her blankets and movement beneath her pillow. Before she could react, Muzien ripped the dagger from her hand. A soft thud told her it landed on the carpet below, far out of reach. She thought to dive for it anyway, but a hand closed around her throat and slammed her back down atop her pillow.

“Now is a time to listen,” the elf whispered into her ear, “not make foolish plans to attack me, nor vain attempts to alert the servant outside your door. I killed her, Alyssa. She’s bleeding out in your closet as we speak, so before someone notices her absence, you and I must come to an understanding. Have I made myself clear?”

His grip tightened, and though she opened her mouth to answer, she could not make a sound. Her hands clutched at his wrist, fingernails scratching hard enough to draw blood, yet it relented not the slightest amount.

“I asked, Have I made myself clear?”

It loosened the tiniest bit, and she gasped in air.

“Yes,” she said, voice hoarse and painful to her own ears.

“Excellent.”

Gone was the hand, her bed shifting as his weight upon it was removed. Alyssa lay there, still covered by the blankets, and did her best to regain her composure.

“I saved you for last,” Muzien said, and by the way his voice traveled, she imagined him pacing before her at the foot of the bed. “Every other man and woman of power in this city, I have crossed paths with. No one may claim I came to Veldaren like a thief in the night. No one may feign ignorance or surprise by what happens tomorrow. For everyone, from the highest king to the lowliest serf, there are only two options: compliance or rebellion.”

“Compliance with what?” she dared ask, and it hurt her throat to speak.

“My demands,” Muzien said. “You see, Alyssa, the night is mine now. I own it and keep it in my pocket like I would a coin or key. No one will take it from me, nor challenge me for it. The Sun Guild has claimed every street, every corner, every shop, every stall. Even the king has agreed to look the other way, granting us immunity from his soldiers and guards. So, as you sit here, I want you to realize how alone you are. You’ve proven troublesome in your past, fiery and stubborn, but now is a time for wisdom, not passion. Can you do that for me, Alyssa?”

She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but that would only make her night worse. Instead, she nodded and kept her mouth shut.

“Excellent. Quiet, obedient. You’re learning, so here is the next lesson. The deal you’ve struck between the Trifect and the thief guilds, this Watcher’s truce, it ends tonight.”

“You’d plunge this city back into chaos?” she asked.

“On the contrary, Alyssa, I would give it a proper peace. What you’ve created is a mockery of order, and it was doomed to fail whether I came here or not. But here I am, and I will not allow it to stand. The guilds are mine, all of them. The men who signed those signatures are either dead or bow their knees to me. We will do whatever we wish to do, take from whomever we wish to take. Only one thing will stop us: gold.”

“That’s it? You just want protection money? How is that any different from what we had before?”

She felt the bed sink the tiniest bit from the elf sitting on one of the corners.

“It comes down to power, Alyssa. There will be no enforcer beyond myself. The terms will be decided by me and me alone. You will hand over coin, and through my good grace, you will be spared any wrath. The same will go for every other shop and tavern and brothel that operates within Veldaren’s walls. No one will sell the smallest scrap of bread without my approval and my cut. Consider it a tax paid to the rightful king of our fair city.”

Alyssa was stunned by what she heard. The elf believed it, every word. He truly thought the entirety of Veldaren was his. The frightening part was how close to the truth it might actually be.