James Davis - Circle of Skulls

With a broad flourish of his cloak, he hid his blade for the blink of an eye, spinning toward the trailing edge of the black cloth, thrusting into Dregg's attack and pushing the human back on his heels. He struck high and low, alternating swiftly between the two as he continued to prowl in and out of the rorden's reach, the pain of the cut in his side warm and familiar, keeping his senses sharp. After several ringing exchanges, he saw a quiet desperation blooming in Dregg's eyes, sweat pouring down the human's forehead as his arm slowed by degrees, his blade seeming heavier by the breath.

Several times Dregg's defense was laid wide open, and Jinn had time to stare longingly at the small gap in the rorden's leather armor, just below his arm and a cut away from his heart. Batting the human's blade away again, he would take a sliding step as the man tried to recover and slide the flat of his sword across Dregg's back, just above his belt. He pictured the wounds, imagined the gasps of pain, and dissected his opponent dozens of times in a myriad of ways but managed to hold back the rage that threatened to press the edge a little harder with each slash and thrust.

Despite all, he wanted Lucian Dregg alive.

At length, Dregg backed away, panting through clenched teeth as Jinn allowed him space and lowered his sword, tapping its point once on the ground. The human spat at the insult, muttering an unintelligible curse but keeping his distance.

"Run," Jinn said, forcing the word out through a bloodlust that urged him to cut the rorden's throat rather than let the human escape.

Dregg hesitated, only a misplaced pride keeping him from bolting at the first chance he was given, but Jinn suspected he had seen enough of the human to know he wouldn't give up the chance at survival. Alone and outfought, Dregg was far beyond his comfort zone, and Jinn wondered why the human had stayed to fight at all, curious as to what Tallus had promised him for covering up and assisting the skulls' killing spree throughout the ward. The questions burned brightly in his thoughts, and with effort he made sure his patience outshone even his desire for immediate answers.

With a frustrated, almost animal growl, Dregg turned and ran, heading west along the garden wall. Mara appeared at the gate, her crimson gaze fixed on the rorden's back as snow melted on her dark robes. She bared her fangs as the human turned at the end of the wall.

"You know where to go?" Jinn asked her, clutching the wound in his side as he sheathed his sword, blood trickling between his fingers. Mara nodded, lowering the short, knotted horns that curled from beneath her stringy black hair. "Keep close to him. I'll be along shortly."

With an arcane whisper, Mara loped forward, disappearing in a wave of shadow even as soft footsteps drew Jinn's attention back to the garden gate and the tired eyes of Quessahn. He was taken aback by the look on her face, struck by the familiar intimacy in her cold stare.

"Go," she said. "I'll be fine."

It seemed as though she had repeated the words a hundred times before, each time more draining than the last, her eyes exposing the lie on her tongue. He stared at her for several breaths, a glimmer of truth reaching out to him from some forgotten life like a deeply buried splinter, rising to the skin's surface and screaming to be pulled free. Each moment he had spent with her since she had found him replayed itself in his mind within a single beat of his heart-and each one he saw in a new light that shook him to his core.

In half a breath he left her, running as fast as his wound would allow, tracing the path of Lucian Dregg. Moments before, he had felt once again in control, turning his confusion since entering Sea Ward into a focused purpose, making the hunter the hunted, but with four words, Quessahn had shaken that certainty.

In nearly four thousand long years of forgotten names and buried memories, every lover he might have had was left-either mourning or rejoicing over stone tombs or shallow graves-in his past, a fragment of his soul lost to recollection and time… except for one.

He ran faster at the thought of it.

Dregg fell back against a cold, damp wall, panting and cursing as snowmelt dripped down the back of his neck, soaking through his tunic. He shivered and hung his head low, eyes darting at every shadow, hands trembling as he pulled his cloak tighter. In the silence between breaths, he listened for the incessant tap-tapping of Tallus's staff to come chasing him through the shadows. Upon each rooftop and against every patch of dark gray sky, he imagined flaming green eyes, watching him from a plume of smoke or standing in the darkness of curtained windows. He paled at the thought of running afoul of the nine skulls, having seen their handiwork firsthand.

His heart thumped a fearful cadence as he waited for the phantoms to become real and deliver his punishment. But the windows remained darkened, the streets empty, and most doors well barred for the evening.

"No more killing tonight," he whispered. "Not that a locked door could stop the circle."

Managing his fears, he stood straight and pulled his collar high to cover his face as he wandered the shadows, taking stock and determining which direction to turn his boots. Cautious, he stayed out of the burning lamplight, a decision more comforting than practical as the circle of skulls needed no light to see him. Though Tallus would discard him as a failure, Dregg doubted the Nine would be so forgiving. He had seen them once, in their circle, and overheard their dealings with the archmage. What they had begun, what they had planned, sent a shiver down his spine, a spark of urgency that quickened his step to escape Waterdeep at all costs.

Rounding a corner down a narrow avenue that would carry him out of Sea Ward and see him out of the city by sunrise, he paused, squinting as his vision blurred. Shadows quivered and shook then jumped from one side of the street to the next. He backed away, his eyes widening as a whispering murmur crawled toward him, creeping across his skin with harsh syllables that chilled him to the bone. They dug into his ears painfully, screeching through his thoughts and numbing his senses. He glimpsed a robed figure within the leaping shreds of darkness and fell to the cobbles in surprise, quickly scrambling to his feet as he clumsily drew his sword.

The murmuring stopped and the shadows stilled.

"Tallus…?" he called out quietly, thoughts racing to excuse his failure, to save his own skin, but no answer came. Tentatively he stepped forward with a glimmer of hope, calling again, "Rilyana?"

A dull ache throbbed in his temples as the cobbles ahead rippled like water and began to swirl. He shook his head, blinking fiercely. A sound like ripping parchment filled the spaces between the buildings, and a fanged pit of utter darkness opened in the center of the unnatural tempest. It snapped and growled, blocking his path and edging closer.

He fell back, sweat beading on his forehead as he turned away, running headlong into the alley beyond. The air thickened as he ran, clinging to his skin like ice. Walls shivered as he passed, pulsing like flesh and growing ragged mouths that whispered his name through jagged, malformed teeth. Streets and alleys once familiar became the winding paths of a nightmare, leading him to strange and hellish places. The sky grew closer, pressing down upon the rooftops, clouds rolling almost within reach as the city threatened to crush him. He struck the reaching tendrils of living walls, drawing lines of foul blood that pooled into rivers at his feet.

The pain in his head, in his mind, intensified, and he fell to his knees, pounding his fists into the cobbles, each blow lessening the ache somewhat. The path ahead of him was swallowed by a wall of wriggling, red things and the alley at his back was gone, just a dark patch of gibbering nothing. From somewhere distant, he felt madness gently lay an unbalancing hand upon his shoulder, and in the brief contact, at the moment when he thought his mind would fracture, he spoke.