Jess Lebow: Obsidian Ridge

He watched her cast a spell on something, then she leaned back, pulling another person's hand-a man's hand-into view. She cast another spell, then, after some further conversation, she leaned up to give the man a kiss.

Knowing what was at risk, the figure leaned away from the wall, craning his neck to get a better view. Had the princess turned at that moment, she would have seen the figure's dark hood, lit by the moon's rays, would have seen the smooth, pale skin of the figure's forehead illuminated by the unusually bright night.

But the princess did not turn, and the figure pressed himself back against the concealing wall.

"The princess and the Claw," the figure whispered. "This is bigger than I had thought."

The princess turned away from her evening rendezvous and returned to the shadows on the eastern edge of the courtyard.

Just as he had before, the figure slunk away, following the princess into the shadows.

From the rooftop, a man in a cape and wide-brimmed hat watched the princess and the Claw being watched by a figure in the shadows. It was not easy to see the figure, for it had taken great care to conceal itself in the darkest part of the courtyard. But the man in the hat had followed the figure here just as it had followed the princess.

High above all the action, the man chuckled quietly. This was a strange turn of events. Never would he have thought he'd find the Claw as part of this. He suspected the figure had been equally surprised to learn of the princess's relationship with the king's assassin. Who would have thought it? The kingdom's most beloved royal paired with the kingdom's most-rumored and least-understood figure. Maybe there was something to this tall, dark, and handsome bit after all.

This night might turn out to be much more interesting than he had thought.

The rendezvous below broke up, and the princess disappeared back into the shadows.

"Go on," he said, talking to the figure, though he knew it couldn't hear. "Follow her."

Predictably, his quarry did, skirting the edge of the high wall, following the shadows to the edge of the courtyard and out of sight.

"Time to go." Getting up from his perch, the man in the hat crossed the rooftop to stand at the edge of the building.

From here he could see the slowly winding road and the fields to the east of the palace. In the far distance he could see the waves in the harbor, gently pressing against the docks.

The moon's light illuminated everything in stark contrast, and he watched the princess drift in and out of the small, concentrated shadows. She was a smart one, Mariko. She navigated her way toward the docks with the caution and confidence of a well-trained rogue. It was a wonder that the figure was able to track her at all from the street. It wouldn't surprise him if there was some magic aiding the figure's success.

The princess disappeared at the end of the road, and the figure appeared, as if on cue, from the shadows near the palace.

Reaching into his vest pocket, the man in the hat pulled out a small wooden charm, a feather tied to one end by a slim piece of leather. Squeezing it in his hand, he stepped over the edge and began to fall, quickly at first, then much slower as he approached the ground. His cape lifted over his head, and the wide brim of his hat undulated softly in the breeze.

His feet touched the cobblestones of the courtyard with no more force than if he had just walked off a single step. Opening his hands, the charm was gone, consumed by the fall. Brushing off his palms, the man in the hat started after the figure.

Clearly the figure was not concerned with being followed or not wise enough to guard against such eventualities. Tracing its steps was quite easy, and the man followed it all the way into the heart of the underworld-the docks, storehouses, and seedy businesses that cluttered Llorbauth's waterfront.

The man caught sight of the princess once again-atop a small stable used to house the workhorses that pulled heavy freight off of incoming trade ships. From where she was perched, she could see people approaching from any direction.

The man in the hat smiled. People were predictable. They spent most of their time looking at the road, watching where they were going. Very rarely did they look up, to see what was directly above them. Mariko was hiding in plain sight.

"Nice trick," he said quietly.

Her gamble paid off. The figure reached the intersection and stopped, consulting some object in its palm. After a moment, the figure darted down the road to the north. Getting to the next intersection, it turned around and darted back the other direction.

The man in the hat settled up against the side of a storehouse to watch as the figure's frantic searching continued. Finally, unable to locate the princess, the figure headed east, toward the Shalane waterfront and the docks.

Glancing up at the rooftop as he followed, the man confirmed what he had suspected. The princess was nowhere to be found. But that was none of his concern.

The buildings were tightly packed here, giving the moon's light less of a chance to penetrate the confines of the city's most corrupt district. The tight corners and long, dark shadows made tracking the figure much harder, but the man managed despite the difficulty.

The figure turned down an alleyway, one block up from the water. Coming around a final corner, the man in the hat stopped cold in his tracks. The alley dead-ended in a single, wooden door. It was a door like any other door in Llorbauth, except that this one was adorned with a small crest-the golden profile of a beautiful woman, a simple tiara on her head, her long hair flowing around her face.

That crest could only mean one thing. That it was time for the man to take his hat and get far away from this place.

As the sun rose over Llorbauth, Princess Mariko dangled from the edge of the palace wall, counting footfalls. The guards had been doubled since Tasca's death threat on her father. The patrols on the roof had also doubled, making it harder for her to return home unseen.

Two guards walked past her, silent except for their footsteps.

"Ten, eleven, twelve…" The princess pulled herself onto the roof and tumbled across the stone, coming to rest behind a gargoyle perched beside a chimney stack. Hiding behind the stone creature, she waited.

A second patrol appeared in her view, marching just slightly behind the first. The moment they disappeared from her sight, she moved again, slipping around to the opposite side of the chimney. Lifting a small, stained glass skylight, Mariko silently lowered herself down into her private chamber.

The room was dark, except for the slight trickle of light through the skylight. Crossing to her dressing cabinet, Mariko stripped off the tight garments she had been wearing and tucked them neatly into a wooden box. Placing her hand on the lid, she closed her eyes and whispered the words that activated the rune permanently placed on its surface. In a blink the box vanished, and the princess closed the doors of the cabinet.

Knock-knock-knock.

"My lady," came Genevie's voice from the other side of her chamber door. "Are you awake? May I enter?"

Turning to her bed, Mariko unmade the blankets as best she could, crumpling and tossing them to the side. Then grabbing a simple gown from a hook in the cabinet, the princess hurriedly pulled it over her head.

"Yes, Genevie," she replied, trying to settle the rumpled fabric against her skin. "You may enter."

The door opened slightly, and the aging half-elf pressed herself through the narrow space. She closed it behind her as quickly as she could, as if she were trying to avoid letting anything in or out of the room.

In her right hand she carried a candelabrum, and the lit candles filled the chamber with an orange glow. Once inside, Genevie set about lighting the other candles in the room, slowly chasing away the nighttime shadows. When she finished, she set the candelabrum down on the heavy wooden table and turned to the princess.