James Davis - Circle of Skulls

Their green flames roared higher as they turned on one another, arguing in a harsh language that crawled across Jinn's flesh like ants, but in the midst of it all, he heard them plainly. The sound of their arguing, nine voices shouting in unison, flames of green energy flaring from their eyes and between their teeth.

"The killers," he whispered. "These are Allek's murderers."

"You see!" The high-pitched one turned on him, shrieking. "He knows too much already! Kill him now!"

The skull's grinning mouth opened wide, issuing forth jets of emerald flame.

Quessahn eyed Mara suspiciously as they exited the alley opposite the direction Jinn had taken. She cursed the deva's mystery despite realizing his need to escape the Watch and exit the scene of the grisly crime. Plumes of smoke rose in twisting towers above the tavern, the flames under control, though the Storm's Front was certainly lost. The smoke gathered in dark clouds, joining those already blocking the stars from her view. She felt cut off from the sky, lost and flailing from one puzzle into another without the stars to guide her. And without that comfort, she pressed outward, seeking stability beyond the celestial veils in darker places of power. Something in that dark realm sparked her senses, focusing her attention on Mara as the strange woman stepped out into the orange light of the roaring flames.

Though Quessahn turned away from the burning tavern and the Watch, Mara went toward them, calmly approaching the nearest officer of the Watch. Quessahn swore, a spell coming to her lips, certain that Mara intended to betray Jinn at her first chance. She held back the dark magic, surrounded by too many witnesses, and reached for her dagger instead. If necessary, cold steel would cause less of a stir than hostile spells.

"Officer!" Mara called out, suddenly appearing frightened and fragile as the Watchman turned. "It's terrible! Murder in the alley! You must see!"

She pointed daintily, her face a perfect mask of distress as the officer pressed by her dutifully. Quessahn gripped her dagger so tightly, her hands hurt, but as the officer turned into the alley, Mara's expression hardened to a grim smile. She winked at Quessahn as she followed the man.

"Careful there, girl," she whispered, gesturing to the dagger hidden beneath the eladrin's cloak. "You'll cut yourself."

Quessahn narrowed her eyes and loosened her grip on the knife but did not release it. The Watchman paused as he neared the young woman's broken body, swearing as he turned and reaching for the signal horn at his belt, but Mara stood in his path. She hissed a stream of arcane words, waving her hand in a sweeping gesture that sparkled like glitter. The officer flinched as if struck, his eyes glazing over as the glittering light of Mara's spell swirled in his widened pupils. He stumbled forward, catching himself for a breath before slumping to the ground, snoring soundly.

"You might have warned me," Quessahn muttered as Mara knelt over the man's body.

"I might have, yes," Mara said as she stole the officer's signal horn. "But I don't know you, and I don't trust you. I think that puts us on even ground, does it not?"

"Fair enough," Quessahn replied as they exited the alley away from the tavern, hoods kept close as a Watch patrol passed them by and still more gawkers stopped to watch the last of the tavern's embers hiss with steam. They followed the wide street north, keeping to what shadows were available on the fairly well-lit street, avoiding taverns where curious patrons had gathered outside, staring down toward the glowing light of the Storm's Front.

Mara turned left into the narrower streets of Morningstar Way, and Quessahn let her lead, not wanting to let the wizard out of her sight. Most of the windows they passed were dark, curtains and shutters drawn against the chill, night air, but a few remained lit, usually near servants' entrances where there was still work to be done for their wealthy employers.

"How do you know Jinn?" Mara asked, breaking the silence between them.

"I–I helped him once, a few years ago," she answered, stammering, surprised by the question and stumbling over the half lie ungracefully. Mara seemed not to notice as they angled north again, darker alleys flanking them and stinking with refuse. "Something to do with an underground cult he'd been pursuing for some time."

They entered a longer stretch of shadows and dark windows, and Mara paused, pulling forth the signal horn from beneath her cloak. She raised it to her lips then paused, lowering it and smiling at Quessahn knowingly.

"I understand that you've helped him," she said and leaned closer, winking conspiratorially. "But you did not answer my question."

Mara blew several strident notes on the horn, employing a common Watch signal used to call reinforcements, before Quessahn could respond. The echoing blasts would reach most of Sea Ward, drawing the Watch away from Jinnaoth and keeping them busy while he attended to his suspicions. Quessahn let Mara's statement be, turning as several windows lit with fresh, flickering light.

"Where to now?" she asked, imagining patrols converging on them already.

"Now we shall go to meet Jinn," Mara answered, replacing the horn in her cloak, still smiling with a mischievous look in her dark eyes.

Quessahn averted her gaze, trying to appear concerned, though the Watch would not be looking for two women. They walked swiftly east, silent and stealthy, Quessahn's heart racing as she fought to banish the memories stirred by Mara's question.

NIGHTAL 20, THE YEAR OF DEEP WATER DRIFTING (1480 DR)

Roaring flames rolled over Jinn's back as he jumped out of their path and tumbled into an awkward crouch, his swiftly drawn sword at odds with his instinct to retreat. He wasn't sure if he was even able to harm the skulls, much less battle them all at once. And though he had discovered the source of Sea Ward's sudden rise in mortality rate, he did not yet know the reason, and, most importantly, he did not know how Sathariel was involved.

As the circle devolved into chaos, arguing with one another over his fate, he fell back, observing them from a safer distance and wincing as their ghostly voices pierced his skull. Pressing a palm to his forehead, he noticed that the stain of Allek's blood had been burned away during the skulls' manifestation.

"Be still!" One voice rose above the others with a note of authority, silencing the circle's bickering. The speaker drifted to the circle's edge to face the deva as it addressed the others. "He doesn't care about us. He wants the angel, correct?"

Jinn remained silent as the other skulls turned toward him, hissing in impatience, their green flames diminished as they regarded him. He returned their cold scrutiny, the pits of their glowing eyes mirroring the emptiness he felt in his gut as he considered the accusation. Yet he could not deny the statement.

"Yes," he answered at length, tucking his quiet shame away for more peaceful times when he could look back and afford the luxury of regret.

A sibilant sigh passed through the skulls as he took a tentative step into their flickering, emerald light. They arranged themselves into the even circle they'd appeared in, their flames barely more than candlelight in the dark alley.

"Know this, deva," the skulls' apparent leader continued, "you have earned Sathariel's attention of late."

"The fall of the Vigilant Order," Jinn muttered, though he wondered how true that fall had been. The soulless ahimazzi were bound to the pleasure of Asmodeus, seeking redemption in suffering and service. Their numbers in Sea Ward suggested that his work-and theirs-was not yet complete.

"The angel's time here in Waterdeep is ending, and his purpose becomes more fragile with each day that passes," the skull added. "You shall soon have your reckoning."