David Dalglish - Blood of the Underworld

“Or what?” they asked in unison.

In answer, Grayson flung himself at the woman, catching her across the face with his fist. As she fell back he tried to stab, but she was faster than he expected. Instead of fleeing further, she dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding the downward thrust that would have skewered her. Continuing on, she joined the twins, who stepped before her protectively. The woman fumed, but Deathmask only chuckled.

“How is the burned friend of theirs?” he asked as Grayson and Tracy stood there, still tense. They might flee into the shop, but that way was a dead end. If they wanted to escape, it had to be through the streets. Grayson had fought spellcasters before, and he knew he’d be pressing his luck trying to avoid their attacks in open streets for any length of time.

“He looks like he’s seen better days,” the woman said, lifting Boggs up with both hands, her dagger pressed against his chest. Boggs let out a gasp at her touch.

“A shame,” said Deathmask. “Veliana, if you’d so kindly put him out of his misery.”

The woman was only too happy to oblige. Before Grayson could think of what to do, Veliana pulled her dagger back, spun it, and jammed it through Boggs’s throat. Tracy let out a choked cry, part horror, part fury. Veliana dumped the body to the street, retrieved her dagger, and then burned away the blood with more purple fire. The twins shifted wider, just outside sword reach, blocking off the other side of the street. Only the shop remained, and for some reason, Grayson felt like he was being herded inside.

Glancing behind him, he realized much of his merchandise was still within in the shop. If he were trapped inside, and the Ash Guild summoned the city guard, then they’d be out their lives, and their coin. Worse, their guild’s intentions would be revealed to the King’s men. When word reached Mordeina, none of it would be of the Ash Guild’s involvement, either, the blame pinned on the city guard instead. Deathmask didn’t want to just kill him. He wanted to humiliate him, and make life far more difficult for the rest of the Sun Guild.

“All that smoke will be attracting attention soon,” Deathmask said, confirming Grayson’s fears.

“You bastard,” Tracy said, tears in her eyes. “I’ll kill you, I promise it.”

“Shouldn’t make promises you won’t keep,” Veliana said.

“Last chance,” Deathmask said. “Partners, or the executioner’s axe. Your choice.”

“Tracy,” Grayson said as movement across the rooftops caught his eye. “You do exactly as I say, you understand?”

She nodded. Lowering his swords, Grayson stood to his full height, delaying as long as possible. He had to time it just right, just when the attack hit…

“I guess I have little choice,” he said. “But I’m thinking I’d much rather have you dead.”

Spinning about, he leapt into door of the shop, smashing it open with his shoulder. Tracy followed without hesitation. Barging in, they flung themselves to the side, avoiding another barrage of daggers. Grayson rolled onto his back, swords up to fend off an attack that didn’t come.

Explosions of fire rocked the street, and they weren’t from Deathmask. Shrapnel from the wagons clacked against the side of the shop, and a long plank shattered a window. Tracy crouched low to the floor, stunned by the sudden barrage of combat.

“We should go help kill…”

“No,” Grayson said. “Either they’ll live or they’ll die. I’m not foolish enough to step in the middle.”

The ringing of steel on steel intensified. From the window, Grayson heard a roar of wind, and then what sounded like a battering ram slamming into a castle gate.

“Who’s out there?” Tracy asked, stunned.

In answer, Grayson only shook his head.

In less than a minute, the combat was over. Holding his swords at the ready, Grayson made his way to the door and stepped out to survey the wreckage. Their wagons were ruined, each one exploded into pieces. Three of the nearby buildings burned, and a fourth had a gaping hole in its front, from what, he could only guess. There were no other bodies on the ground besides Boggs. Tracy rushed over to her brother, cradling his head in her hands. Tears flowed down her face, but only for a moment.

“What happened here?” she asked as she calmly removed the rings from his ear.

“Saw their coat for just an instant, but the damage is enough to answer,” Grayson said, putting away his swords. “Still think it was a mistake to hire them, but at least they saved our ass instead of getting in the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Bloodcrafts,” Grayson said. “If the Ash Guild lives through this, it’ll be a miracle.”

Tracy paled at the name.

“We need to check on the rest,” she said. “The Ash Guild might not have been the only one to…”

“No,” Grayson said, offering her his hand. “We need to move, now. The city guard will be here any second, and we can’t risk them finding our cache. We must take whatever we can carry, and then hide.”

Tracy nodded, pocketed the last of Boggs’s earrings. She kissed his burned forehead and then whispered into his ear.

“I’m sorry.”

She took Grayson’s hand and stood. Inside the shop, they gathered every bag they could carry, and as the first of many arrived to investigate the destruction, the two ducked into the nearest alley and lost themselves in the darker parts of the city.

Zusa was in her room when Alyssa found her.

“What are you doing?” Alyssa asked. Zusa ignored her, instead continuing to put on her wrappings inch by inch. Lifting one arm, she began circling them across her breast, around her sides, and then back again. Loop after loop after loop….

Alyssa grabbed her hands, forcing her to stop.

“Look at me,” she said. “Zusa…”

“I have to go,” Zusa said, gently taking Alyssa’s hands in hers, then pulling herself free so she might continue to dress.

“Go? Go where? I need you here. You know that. Whoever it is…this Widow…he followed us here. He’s here. And you’re to leave me?”

Zusa turned her back to Alyssa, not wanting to see the worry in her eyes. It was dark now, but in the waning hours of daylight they’d found another body, this one dumped against the walls of the Connington estate, a crossbow bolt still stuck in her chest. It had been one of the servants left behind to care for Alyssa’s mansion while it was repaired. Her eyes had been removed, coins replacing them. The rhyme had mocked Alyssa directly yet again.

tongue of gold, eyes of silver

run, run gemcroft whore

from the widow’s quiver

Stephen had sent the guards into a frenzy searching, furious that such a thing had been done without them noticing. Zusa, though, had only stared as the walls closed in around her. She’d calmly walked to her room, stripped naked, sharpened her daggers, and then began to dress.

“I only do what I must,” Zusa said.

“Don’t lie to me,” Alyssa said. “I need you here. My son needs you here. Without your protection, we might…”

“Don’t you understand?” Zusa said, whirling to face her. “ That is why I go. It doesn’t matter how closely I guard you, you’re still vulnerable. The threat lurks, and I must find it.”

“No,” Alyssa said, crossing arms. “This Widow is just some sick fuck with a crossbow. Whoever it is can’t be better than you.”

“It’s not the Widow,” Zusa said, shaking her head. “That was only a reminder of the threats made against us. It’s the other Faceless. They’re just like me, Alyssa. No matter how many guards you surround yourself with, or how diligent I remain, they can still find you. When I sleep, or am separate from you for only a moment. Walls mean nothing, and shadows are just doors…”