David Dalglish - A Dance of Shadows

Tears grew in his eyes, and he fought to keep his voice under control.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he said. “I will. I promise I will. I’ll kill her just like Laerek told me to.”

Melody took his chin in her fingers, tilted him close, and kissed his forehead several times. “Make it quick,” she said. “No torture. No cruelty. Can you do that for me? I love her still, but she cannot rule the Gemcroft household anymore. Her lack of faith endangers us all, as well as poor Nathaniel’s soul. I love you, Stephen. Now go do what must be done.”

Behind her was a closet, and carefully he stood and pulled it open. Inside was a crossbow loaded with a single arrow, its tip coated with poison. All prepared and ready for him with his mother’s loving hands. He took it, smiled at her.

“I’ll make you happy,” he said. “I owe you so much. I’m not sure I can ever repay you.”

Now holding the candle, Melody lifted it to her face so the light shone across her smile. “You’re my beloved child,” she said. “The one Karak gave to me when Maynard stole Alyssa away from me because of his stubborn pride. You have nothing to repay me for.”

Stephen reached for the door, and as he pulled it open, Melody called his name.

“Stephen,” she said. “Remember, nothing must happen to Nathaniel. Karak has blessed him for a reason. Once he is free of Alyssa’s influence, his gift will blossom like a flower, and we must do whatever we can to nourish it. He is no threat to my ascension.”

Crossbow shaking in his sweaty hand, Stephen nodded to his mother. “I will be good,” he said. “I promise I will.”

He left, shut the door behind him, and then hurried down the hall to where Alyssa slept.

Victor leaned against the back wall behind his tavern, arms crossed, body covered with shining armor. His fingers drummed the hilt of his sword, but he forced himself to remain calm and leave it sheathed. Gathered together, in both the tavern and two nearby streets, were the bulk of his forces. They were all equally impatient, but Victor had no choice, much as it left a foul taste in his mouth. In his pocket was a note written by the enigmatic man, its message simple yet perplexing.

Victor , it read. I will come shortly after sunset, alone and unarmed. We must talk, and we must act. I know the Bloodcrafts tried to kill you, and I know who brought the Bloodcrafts here. If you want revenge, now will be your chance. It’s time you sprinkled Ash upon your head instead of trying so damn hard to scatter it upon the wind.

At first Victor had wanted to throw it on the fire. He’d come home after the Bloodcrafts’ attempt on his life, his feet and hands still tingling from the poison the Widow had used against him. It’d been early morning, the Watcher having kept guard over him for most of the night before he deemed it safe for them to leave. Upon arriving at his tavern, he’d found Sef pitching a fit, half his men scouring the city for him. And then to top it all off, when Victor went to his room he found the note tucked neatly under his pillow.

Better a note than a knife , Victor had thought, deciding not to burn the note. For once he felt like a stranger to the city, the stranger he truly was. Deathmask knew something about the people who’d attacked him, and whatever it was, he wanted to know it himself. And so he’d slept much of the day, eaten a small meal upon awakening, and then readied his men for the meeting.

“He’s not going to show,” Sef muttered, pacing back and forth before Victor. “He just wants us here so he can go kill and rob someone there !”

He punctuated the word with a vague gesture to the rest of the city. Victor shook his head.

“The man plays games,” he said, “but my gut says this time he’s ready to stop playing. Whatever he wants, we listen. And he’ll show, Sef. I assure you of that.”

True to his word, Deathmask arrived twenty minutes after sunset. He walked alone, his face unclouded by ash or cloth. His smile was wide, and it unnerved Victor further.

“I’m here, and my men ready,” Victor said. “What is of such great importance? Or do you plan on kidnapping me a second time?”

Deathmask bowed low in greeting. “Forgive me if I inconvenienced you,” he said. When he pulled up from his bow, there was a sparkle in his red eye. “And I have no intention of taking you against your will. No, I hope that this time you’ll come with me willingly, and with all your soldiers too.”

“What are you talking about? Speak plainly.”

Deathmask looked to be in no hurry, and he calmly paced before Victor, tapping his lips with a finger.

“I’m sure you know much of Veldaren’s guilds, but what about elsewhere? Say… Mordeina?”

Victor shook his head. “I must profess ignorance in this.”

“And other things as well,” Deathmask said, grin growing. “But then let me remove your ignorance. There is a guild in Mordeina known as the Suns. Over the past few years they’ve spread their influence, first into Ker, then Omn, and now they’ve set their eye on Neldar. They’re coming here, into Veldaren, so they might strike at the heart of this nation before branching out like a disease.”

Victor frowned, not liking what he was hearing. “Are you afraid of losing some profit, thief?” he asked.

“Don’t be naïve. Veldaren is already spiraling out of control, and the Suns will destroy things completely. They won’t rest until every guild, mine included, is wiped out.”

“So far I don’t see much reason to hate them.”

A bit of amusement left Deathmask’s eyes.

“Enough, Victor. You know as well as I that the guilds here are weak. The midnight executions had stopped… well, before you came back, anyway. All the poisoning and assassinations have calmed. The Trifect pay us their sum, we sell drugs and women and take paltry sums of protection money. It’s a balance, a nice one really, like the one Thren should have kept fourteen years ago instead of letting his greed cause the thief war in the first place. Point is, what we have is acceptable. These guilds here, they’re guilds you know, guilds you can manipulate and control. But not the Suns. This is not some distant threat, nor someone that will bow to the Trifect or pay heed to the Watcher. They’ve come to conquer… and they’re already within our walls.”

Information he’d received the day before suddenly clicked, and Victor felt a pit grow in his stomach.

“The cheap crimleaf,” he said. “I’ve heard of the bottoming out of prices. The new dealer… that’s them, isn’t it?”

“They’ve started with crimleaf,” Deathmask said. “But they’ll soon bring other leaves and powders far worse. Have your men not found the bodies all across the southern district? War’s begun, so far silent but for their hiring of the Bloodcrafts. Each day the Sun Guild’s numbers grow, and not just from the west. Members of Veldaren’s guilds can sense the coming tide, and they’re abandoning their old allegiances for the new. When every single street in this city bears the mark of the Sun, what hope do you think you have to accomplish your goal? You’ll face a united force, one you can’t strike at, for its money and wealth come not from here, but from far to the west. They’ll attack anyone they wish, and make no treaties until they accomplish their goal of domination. They’re your twin, Victor, only instead of freeing Veldaren they’d have it enslaved. And your stubborn pride may very well let them win.”

Victor shifted, leaning more of his weight against the wall. He tried to think, to understand what it meant. Slowly he was bleeding the guilds dry of both members and coin. He might succeed, too, but only a fool would think someone else wouldn’t try to fill the void. If the Suns were as dangerous as Deathmask claimed…