David Dalglish - Blood of the Underworld

And when they carried her away, he’d said only two words, whose meaning she had always feared, and never fully understood.

Forgive me.

“Why are you here?” she asked, forcing a cold edge into her voice. Daverik was just a phantom from her past, a boyhood love. They’d both been so young, so foolish and naive. “I thought you’d been banished to Mordeina.”

“I was,” Daverik said, glancing about. When he saw that they were still alone, he walked over to the wall and leaned his back against it, crossing his arms. “But it was only for ten years, and now my time has come to an end. They gave me one last task as penance, a way to redeem my insult to our god.”

“Your god,” Zusa corrected. “I have no love for Karak.”

This clearly pained Daverik, but he continued without remarking on it.

“The betrayal of the Faceless Women has weighed on the priests in Mordeina. Though Pelorak initially refused, he finally accepted my return here, along with the reopening of the order. I am their teacher, their master.”

“Why you?”

“Because they felt I would best understand their weaknesses, having fallen for them myself.”

Zusa shook her head, and to show her opinion on the matter, she spat at his feet. His explanation sounded hollow, the reasoning unlike what she knew of the priesthood. He’d be forever branded as a man weak enough to give in to his passions. Why would they put women also believed to be weak and willing into his care?

“The order should have remained dead and gone,” she said. “How many women have you enslaved?”

“It is not enslavement…”

“I asked how many.”

Daverik sighed.

“Four. I doubt any are as skilled as you, but they’re learning. Karak has blessed them greatly, and I think they might even surprise you with the gifts they possess.”

Zusa smirked.

“I’m sure I have a few surprises for them, as well. Keep them far away from me, Daverik. The very sight of them sets my blood to boil. If you’re wise, you’ll leave Veldaren immediately.”

She turned to leave, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. Her free hand moved for her dagger, but their eyes met, and she saw the incredible force of will there. For a moment she remained still, lost in time, remembering a seventeen-year-old girl hiding in a dark alley with a pretty boy willing to touch her, kiss her, in ways the priesthood had forbidden.

“They say you work for Alyssa Gemcroft now,” he said. “Is that true?”

“It is,” she said, pulling her arm free. She wanted to hurt him, to shock him, and she didn’t know why. “I am her sister, her protector, and at times, her lover. Why do you ask?”

Daverik swallowed, and she could tell he was struggling to choose his words.

“These are dangerous times,” he said. “I don’t want to see you hurt. There’s much beyond my understanding, but I know Lady Gemcroft is not safe from the coming storm. Stay away from her, and all her family.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Only a warning,” he said. “I wish I could do more.”

She took three steps and leapt high above his head, to the rooftop of a nearby home. She landed without a sound, then spun to face him.

“You’re a smooth liar,” she said. “But I am no fool. Why did they really bring you to Veldaren?”

Daverik sighed and ran a hand across his bald head.

“I was to find you, bring you back into the fold now that the order was no longer disbanded.”

Alyssa felt her neck flush with anger.

“And if I refused?”

He met her gaze, let her see the pain in his eyes.

“I was to kill you.”

The words were a dagger, but they did not surprise her, did not even make her flinch.

“Will you, Daverik? Will you try to kill me?”

“My love, or my god. Do not make me choose, Katherine. I chose you a long time ago. I’m not sure I have the strength to do so again.”

She let the shadows swirl around her, drawing them to her as if they were liquid and she the bottom of a drain.

“Did you not hear me before?” she asked. “Katherine’s dead. My name is Zusa. Send your little girls after me if you must. I’ll kill them all. But don’t you dare bring Alyssa into this, or try to harm a single hair on her head. If you do, not even the walls of the temple will keep you safe from me.”

She ran, just a swathe of shadow in the night. Far behind, she heard him call her name, this time the right one.

“Zusa!”

She ran harder, faster. Whatever she’d expected, she felt a fool for doing so. They were no longer children. No longer lovers. He had no right to set her heart racing by his mere touch on her arm. Trying to think of something, anything else, she still failed. His words echoed in her head.

Coming storm, she wondered. What did he mean by that? What did he know that she did not? The idea that Karak’s priesthood wanted the Gemcroft family destroyed was a frightening one, but with all else that had happened, she could not dismiss the possibility. She felt trapped in a web, just one of many in the strands. But who was the spider spinning in the center of it all?

She didn’t know, but she must find out. Alyssa’s life was in danger. The city passed by her, a silent blur, and it was only when she reached the Gemcroft mansion that she realized she was being followed. Turning, she drew her daggers, but by then they were already gone, the four Faceless Women vanishing into the night like the ghosts they were.

“Don’t you dare,” Zusa whispered, standing at the closed gate as she issued her threat, not just to the Faceless but to the entire city spread out before her. “You won’t take her away from me. None of you will.”

In the distance she heard the roar of another explosion, and as it rumbled, she felt as if it were the city’s heartless, mocking laughter.

When they pulled the black cloth from his face, Victor found himself in what appeared to be a small cellar, the walls made of uneven rock and lit by two torches in either corner. He saw no windows, and no doors. His arms were bound behind him, and his ankles were held firm to the legs of the chair he sat in. Before him, looking far too amused to be harmless, was Deathmask and his Ash Guild.

“How have you enjoyed tonight’s entertainment?” Deathmask asked, sitting across from him in the only other furniture Victor could see, a similarly old and worn chair. “I’m not sure about you, but killing Spiders always gives me a smile.”

Beside him, a woman crossed her arms and leaned against his side. From what he’d learned, her name was Veliana, his second in command.

“I’m not sure he’s worth it,” she said. Victor peered up at her. He decided there was more compassion and mercy in her bloodied eye than the healthy one.

“Perhaps not,” Victor said, trying to remain calm. “Course, it’d help if I knew what value my life was being weighed against.”

“Coin,” said one of the two twins lurking against the wall, their pale skin making them seem like ghosts in the dim light.

“Lots of coin,” said the other.

“Right,” Victor said, turning his attention to Deathmask, the clear leader of them all. If anyone was to decide his fate, it was him. “But as ransom, or bounty? Or did you lie, and there actually is something my soldiers will soon dig up on your little guild?”

Deathmask scooted his chair closer, and his grin spread.

“You think you’re sharp,” he said. “You think your charm will keep you safe from what your soldiers cannot. But you’ve come to a city that eats men like you for supper. We spit your bones out in the gutters. At most, you’re just gristle to get stuck in our teeth. You aren’t a white knight come to save us all, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you and I might start to get along.”