Marsheila Rockwell - Skein of Shadows

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Sabira took the opportunity afforded by the light from the first mate’s helmet to assess her situation. Rahm was down, as was Jester, but she had no idea if they were just hurt, or worse. Greddark and Skraad each had three men on them-which she thought was a little insulting-and the dwarf’s sword was no longer aflame. Laven was standing in front of Glynn, shielding her from another two as she held the stump of an arm up to her chest. Zi had only one attacker, whom he’d been trying to fend off with a wand, using it like a club. Three bodies lay on the floor in addition to Ears, but all in all, her group’s performance had not been stellar.

“I told you Arach would have you hunted to the farthest corners of Eberron for what you did,” the dwarf replied, blue light shining off his sweaty bald pate. The first mate looked quite a bit worse for wear since the last time she’d seen him in Sharn. The glamerweave coat and silvercloth breeches he’d worn on the Dust Dancer were long gone, as was the jeweled scabbard he’d been so fond of. It seemed that Arach hadn’t been too pleased when his henchman, already out of favor, had been involved in nearly burning down his favorite nightclub.

“Funny, I don’t see him here. Unless he’s one of the corpses littering the floor?” She nudged Stugrim’s lifeless body with her boot for emphasis. “No? Then it kind of looks like this is all you, and Arach has nothing to do with it. Which would make sense, since I’m sure he fired you for incompetence about two seconds after he found out you’d lost me, and trashed his doxy’s place of business in the process. I’m actually a little surprised to see you still alive.”

“Bringing you to him will change his mind, I’m sure.”

Dol Dorn’s broken blade, had the dwarf learned nothing? Sabira might have found it in her to pity him if he weren’t standing there threatening her with that ridiculous hook shoved up in Xujil’s face.

“Right. Because he’d never just kill you after you turned me over to him. He’s far too honorable for that.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Greddark wince, but it was hard to be sure in the gloom.

“Enough talking!” Even from here, she could see the angry set of Thecla’s jaw.

Good. The madder he got, the stupider his decisions would be.

“Or what? You’ll kill the drow? Go ahead; I don’t really like him that much, anyway.”

Thecla scoffed.

“Brave words. How will your people find their way back to the surface, then? Did you leave some trail we didn’t find as we followed you?”

“We have our ways.”

“Your dwarf soarsledder? We’ll kill him too. And I wouldn’t count on teleporting. Something about this area seems to cause those spells to fail rather spectacularly.”

Sabira looked at Xujil for confirmation and the drow gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

Okay. So maybe they didn’t have as many ways as she’d thought.

“Let me get this straight. I go with you, and you let my people go free? And then you’re going to hand me over to Arach in exchange for reinstatement as first mate of an airship he no longer owns? Is that how you’re imagining this is going to work?”

The hook at Xujil’s throat was beginning to shake and Thecla’s scalp was taking on a purplish cast in the blue light.

“I’d say that sums it up fairly accurately, yes.”

Sabira made a show of looking him over, exaggerating the skepticism on her face and in her voice, so that none of his men would miss it.

“So the man who fired you is going to be so pleased when you deliver me that he’s going to welcome you back with open arms, forgiving all and showering you with wealth? Huh. Think he’ll do the same for your men?”

Thecla’s face was definitely turning red.

“They’ll be well-compensated.”

“Really? By whom? Because I hate to say it, but it really seems like you’ve fallen on some hard times since we parted ways in Sharn. How were you planning on paying them, exactly? I mean, I doubt Arach’s going to award that oh-so-generous reward to you-if anything, he’ll probably use it to help rebuild the Glitterdust. And it looks like you can barely afford to eat, let alone pay these men enough to make kidnapping and conspiring to murder a Sentinel Marshal worth their while.”

The man who’d first attacked her had regained his feet while she spoke and she saw him glance quickly over at Thecla. Just as she’d suspected; the former first mate hadn’t bothered to inform his men who their quarry was. She wondered if they even knew that he was no longer actually working for Arach, or had any authority over who got the bounty the Aurum member had placed on her head.

“I said, enough!” the dwarf shouted, his face apoplectic. He jerked his arm back, clearly intending to impale Xujil on his hook, but the drow moved almost faster than she could see, reaching both hands up to grab the wicked implement, then twisting and ducking. Even across the cavern, she could hear the crack as the hook broke free of the bone in Thecla’s arm.

The dwarf howled and something white with a lot of legs dropped from the ceiling, landing on him. Sabira saw Xujil backpedal even as she jumped back herself, eyes and axe going up.

There was nothing, but as she scanned the cavern in the dim light, she saw other figures dropping on the men, irrespective of which group they belonged to. She counted six in all before she heard a soft whump behind her.

As she began to turn, shard axe raised, Thecla screamed again, a sound of pure horror and excruciating pain. It cut off abruptly, leaving only echoes.

And then his everbright lantern winked out, plunging the cavern back into darkness.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Zol, Barrakas 17, 998 YK

Tarath Marad, Xen’drik.

Sabira’s eyes adjusted quickly, but not before she took a blow to her leg from a spiked club. Staggering backward, she finally got a good look at the creature that had dropped from the roof of the cavern.

It stood on two legs and had two eyes, but that was where any true similarity to a man ended. Its eyes were faceted, reflecting her image a thousand times over in the dim fungal light. Sharp, slavering mandibles protruded from its mouth, clicking at her hungrily. Stringy black hair ran from the top of its mottled gray head down its back like a horse’s mane. Four arms sprouted from its torso, each with two elbow joints. Three of its long-fingered hands grasped weapons-the club and two serrated knives-while the fourth was free to guide the silk thread shooting from the aperture in its bared stomach.

Sabira dodged the sticky substance and a knife lunge, slashing down with her urgrosh. She caught the thing’s free arm at the second elbow joint, sheering it cleanly. As it shrieked and fell back, black blood spurting, Sabira heard another sound behind her. Whirling, she almost took of the head of the man who’d attacked her, but checked her blow at the last moment.

“We’ve got a bigger enemy,” he said, sword in guard position and eyes on the spiderlike creature. “Truce?”

She frowned, considering. She didn’t really want a battle on two fronts. But he was Thecla’s man, and whether or not she could trust him now that Thecla was gruesomely dead hinged on one question: Had his loyalty been to the dwarf, or to the promised coin?

A question she didn’t have time to ask, let alone answer, as the wounded creature’s cries brought more of its brethren down from the ceiling.

“Truce!” she shouted, spinning to fend off attacks from five arms at once. Her new ally spun as well, moving closer to her as he batted away a half-dozen weapons. After a moment, they were back-to-back.

“Olog,” he said over his shoulder.

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