Kate Novak - Masquerades

Olive made for the door, suppressing a grin, but she halted when Melman called out, "No need for that. What do you want? As you already saw, I can offer you a great deal."

Alias motioned for Melman to have a seat. "What I want from you, Master Melman, is information. Let's start with the Faceless."

Melman sat down on the bed. "Who?" the vintner asked, but there was a quiver in his voice that belied his ignorance.

Alias leaned forward. "The Faceless, Master Melman. You remember him. He's the man who burned your face."

This," Melman said, pointing to-his face. "An accident. Walked into a torch."

"Very funny," Alias said. "We'll see if the watch finds you so amusing. You should get along with His Reverence Durgar. He doesn't know anything about the Faceless either. The Faceless, however, knows something about you. He probably knows you'd be dangerous in Durgar's custody. I understand Night Masks do not always survive once they are taken by the authorities."

Melman flinched, and he licked his lips nervously. "Try to understand," the man pleaded. "If this is my punishment for arguing," the vintner pointed to his face again, "imagine what will happen if I betray them."

At a nod from Alias, Dragonbait stepped forward. He spread his clawed fingers to touch the perimeters of Mel-man's shocking wound. At first the vintner shrunk back, but when it became clear that the saurial was not attacking him, he relaxed considerably. The paladin's whispered prayer invoked the same healing blue aura over his hands as ever, but the blue light seemed to spark and dissolve as it formed. Melman's face remained as damaged as before.

The saurial looked at Alias and growled and clicked, "There is some evil force preventing the healing. I've never encountered anything like it."

"Is that what happened when the priestess of Mask tried to heal you?" Alias asked Melman.

The man nodded. "He said it wouldn't heal until it scabbed over." "He who? The Faceless?" Melman nodded. Alias felt her stomach twist with excitement. An admission of the Faceless's existence was a major concession from the man. Now if she could just press her advantage.

"So basically the Faceless has made it impossible for you to leave your home for the next several days," Alias pointed out. "In the meantime, you're a sitting duck." Melman did not reply.

"You didn't think we were burglars when you spotted us, did you? You thought we might be Night Masks assassins," the swordswoman guessed.

"That's ridiculous," Melman retorted, but without much conviction.

"Is it? I don't think so. This is the deal, Master Melman. You tell us all you know about the Faceless and the Night Masters, and if you're telling the truth, I'll help you escape from Westgate."

Dragonbait radiated the scent of his displeasure with — this idea, but he said nothing, instead shifting toward the window.

"You hold out on us, though, Melman, and I'm going to have to leave your fate to Durgar's discretion."

Melman shuddered. "Ill-I'll tell you what I can," he said.

"Good. Let's start with you. Are you one of the Night Masters?" the swordswoman asked. Melman nodded wordlessly. "Why did the Faceless brand you?"

"I argued with him in council. I wanted you killed, but he insists he has some other plan to take care of you. He's playing some bizarre power game that's liable to ruin business for good. None of us have any idea who or what he might be."

At Alias's prodding, Melman described the last several meetings of the Night Masters, highlighting the parts of the discussion that dwelt on her and Jamal. As he began covering the details, Melman began to relax, until finally it was as if he were sitting with other merchants in the bar, chatting about business.

"The Night Masters report to the Faceless every other evening," Melman explained, "always at low tide. The entrance to the hideout is on the western bank of the Thunn, beneath the River Bridge. It's covered at high tide. It's hidden by magic, but if you have the key, you can see through the illusion."

Melman reached into his shirt. Alias raised her sword just an inch. The Night Master gave her an uneasy smile and pulled out a chain around his neck. Hanging from the chain was an iron key with a circular grip. He held out the key, and Olive took it from him.

"You look through the grip," the Night Mask explained, "and you can see the door. The tide is just turning now. You won't be able to see the door until tomorrow afternoon. The next meeting of the Night Masters won't be until tomorrow night-"

"Alias," Dragonbait interrupted in Saurial. "There's trouble coming this way. Night Masks. Assassins." "Olive, check outside," the swordswoman ordered.

The halfling moved toward the window and peered out from the side. "I don't see-wait. Hmmm. Night Masks, nine that I can count. Probably more around the other side of the house. Hanging in the shadows across the street. Surrounding us."

Melman's face went white from shock, making the red markings of his burned mask stand out all the more. "He's found me out already! Those are assassins! I shouldn't have talked to you!" The vintner stood up, looking as if he might try to run past Alias, but Dragonbait pushed him back onto the bed.

"Don't be foolish," Alias snapped, keeping her voice calm and even. "No one knows we're here, and we can't be detected magically. More likely the Faceless had already decided to bring your career to an end. You're lucky we're here to get you out of this."

"Looks like they've gathered a quorum," Olive quipped. They're starting to cross the street."

"They'll soon regret gathering here," Dragonbait said, drawing out his sword.

Alias put a hand on the paladin's arm. "It's better they don't discover we've been here. Faceless won't suspect we've learned anything from Melman. We'll sneak out through the basement. Let's go," she said. Picking up the lantern, she headed for the staircase.

Dragonbait prodded Melman to his feet and out of the bedroom.

"He knows everything," the vintner insisted, his voice climbing an hysterical octave.

"Look, you've been cheating with your phony ledgers for over a year," Olive pointed out, following from behind. "If he knew everything, he'd have killed you sooner. If you just keep your mouth shut and keep moving, we'll get you out of this. No sweat."

They were just coming down the lower flight of stairs when someone began pounding on the front door with a mailed fist and shouting Melman's name.

Dragonbait halted in the front hall and hissed at the door.

Alias pushed Melman toward the secret passage and pulled on the saurial's tunic. "Remember how they burned Jamal's home?" she whispered. "We've got to keep moving."

The paladin growled with displeasure, but he followed Melman down the hall and guided him to the passage behind the statue. As Alias followed behind them, the pounding on the door stopped, replaced by the sound of someone or several someones throwing their shoulders against it. Alias set down the lantern and turned about to usher Olive down the stairs, but the halfling was nowhere in sight. "Olive!" the swordswoman shouted.

Outside, the Night Masks began smashing windows all around the house, including the transom window over the front door. Something thumped in the dark hall, and Alias could see a tiny flame glowing on the floor. It was the same explosive device the Night Masks had used in the Thalavar warehouse.

The halfling appeared in the doorway of Melman's treasure room, loaded down with two sacks.

"Olive, get down!" Alias screamed, throwing herself at the halfling, knocking her halfway into the treasure room. The explosion rocked the house, and the noise was deafening. The swordswoman was just rising unsteadily to her knees when a second, third, and fourth bomb went off.