Jess Lebow: Obsidian Ridge

The men continued through a small door on the other side of the slaughterhouse, leaving it ajar behind them. Mariko scampered across the beam to a post along the wall and scaled her way down to the floor. Crossing the room as fast as she could, she closed the distance, inching her way around a huge burned section of the floor.

Behind the door was a small room. There were no windows, and the men hadn't lit any torches or candles. The moonlight coming in from the skylights above illuminated only a small triangle of space on the floor of the room, revealing a plain brick wall maybe thirty paces beyond. She tried to listen for the men's voices, but the soft snuffling of two hundred pigs was simply drowning out all other noise.

Pressing her back against the wall, Mariko thought for a moment. She didn't know who was on the other side of that door or what they were doing. She was at the very least outnumbered two to one, maybe more. This wasn't a very smart idea. But the risks aside, if there was even a small chance that she could learn more about the planned assassination of her father-and if that information could help her keep him safe-then it was well worth the risk.

She had no choice. She was going to have to follow those men, and she was going to have to go quietly, hoping they wouldn't notice. If they did, well… she'd worry about that if and when it happened.

Slipping her dagger from its sheath on her boot, the princess squeezed its hilt. The worn leather wrapping felt comfortable in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she spun away from the wall and stepped through the open door.

Just inside, she could barely see anything. Except for the sliver of moonlight, the rest of the room was completely black. Mariko slipped into the far corner. Finding it unoccupied, she knelt down and peered into the darkness.

The beam of moonlight crossed the room in front of her. If anything in the darkness on the other side wanted to come at her, it was going to have to step through the light. That would give her all the warning she needed.

But, if there was something in the darkness closer to her…

Opening her eyes as wide as she could, she sat in place, tense, letting her eyes adjust. Nothing moved. Inside the office, the sounds of the pigs in the slaughterhouse were muffled, and she could hear a small scuffling sound coming from the other side of the room. It sounded like scratching- like fingernails on the wooden floor.

The noise started to grow, coming closer and becoming more frantic. Mariko lifted herself up into a lunge, holding her blade out to one side, ready to strike down anyone-or anything-that came into the light.

Scruff-scruff-scruff

It was right in front of her. She could feel it vibrate through the floorboards, only a few feet away. Then something appeared in the pale moonlight.

Mariko squinted, unable to make out the shape at first. It was pointed, and moved very slowly, sort of undulating as it came further into view-a rat.

An ordinary wharf rat, just scrounging around the slaughterhouse for scraps.

The princess relaxed. She lowered her blade and let out a sigh. Her brow was covered in sweat, and she could hear her heart pound in her ears. Wiping off her face with her hand, she shook her head and chuckled, relieved that she hadn't just been backed into a corner by a band of underworld thugs.

Slam.

The sliver of moonlight disappeared, and the room went completely dark as the door shut tight. The sound of boots, dozens of them, tromping across worn wooden floor followed.

Mariko reacted on instinct. Holding out both hands, she shouted the words to a spell she didn't often have to use. From her fingertips sprung long, ropy strands. Her spell filled the room with sticky magical silk, pinning everything-she hoped-in place.

The pounding noise of running boots stopped, replaced by shouts of frustration and the sound of men falling to the ground.

Reaching out her palm, the princess touched the brick wall to her right. She cast another spell, one she used more frequently.

The chamber exploded with light as every brick in the wall lit up. The men shouted and cursed as their eyes were shocked awake from complete blackness.

"Not good," said the princess.

The room was much larger than she had anticipated. The corner she had seen in the moonlight was just a small nook. Behind the door, the office-really more like a sub-storehouse-ran off for at least several hundred paces then disappeared again in the darkness.

But more disturbing was the scene immediately in front of her.

Twenty men, all of them wearing similar white robes and chain mail stood before her. A good dozen of them were tangled in her magical web. Several had tripped over their companions and were stuck face first to the ground, completely incapacitated. Try as they might, they weren't getting free anytime soon.

Beside the door stood a man. He wore a fine chain shirt over padded clothing, the same image of the golden-haired woman on his chest, but his face was elongated, and there were two small horns jutting from the top of his forehead. Despite his deformations, he seemed oddly familiar.

The man was directly between Mariko and the way she had come in. It was possible that there was another way out, somewhere in the still-dark section of the room, but her web and nearly two-dozen men made finding it a little trickier.

"Well met, Princess," said the horned man, his words slurring a little as they slipped over his sharp teeth. "We've been expecting you."

"I see that," she said, searching the room for an exit.

Those men not stuck fast came at her from around the edge of the web. They all carried long swords, but to a man they left them in their sheaths. Instead, they bore down on the princess with wooden clubs.

Mariko managed to raise her dagger in time to stab the first assailant through the foot. He screamed and dropped his club. A second came in at her from the left, which she sidestepped. But the third struck her squarely on the thigh, knocking her off balance and forcing her down to one knee.

Wounded and angry, the princess looked up at the mob of white-robed men in front of her and let out a scream.

Not a cry for help or a sign of defeat-the princess's shout was more of the ear-splitting, skull-rattling, gem-shattering variety. Backed into the corner, the brick wall amplified her spell, catching six men in its blast and sending them reeling backward, holding their heads in their hands.

"The ringing! Make it stop! Make it stop!"

The men staggered away, poking their fingers in their ears and howling.

Taking advantage of the opening, the princess limped to her feet and moved toward the door. Only the horned man stood between her and freedom.

Lifting her dagger over her head, she struck a fencer's pose-one she had been taught by her fighting instructor back at the palace. The blade of her weapon began to glow a deep purple, and the runes on its edge sparkled with white light.

"Let me pass, and I let you live," she said. The man merely looked at her. "My name is Jallal Tasca," he said. "Perhaps you recognize it."

"Pello Tasca's brother," she whispered. That was why he had seemed so familiar. His face did hold a resemblance to the man she had spied coming and going from the docks on many a night. But something dreadful had transformed him.

Jallal looked down on her with what the princess could only imagine was pity. "So you do recognize me. Very good."

The princess felt something heavy hit the back of her head, and the room went blurry. She slumped to one side. A pair of hands appeared in her view, then the sleeves of a white robe.

One hand slipped behind her head, and the other held a piece of cloth to her face. There was something caustic on the cloth. The smell of it burned Mariko's eyes and made her gag. She struggled, but the robed figure was just too strong, and the smell of the fabric made her woozy. The bricks on the far wall began to shimmer and move. They grew and shrank, coming up close to her face then slipping away. Her body grew weak. She was tired, and her eyes rolled back into her head.