Erin Evans - Brimstone Angels

“The queen deems it a failure,” the hellwasp said. “You will come with us, or we have orders to kill you here. After you have reformed, you will be tried. It is your choice.”

Invadiah growled, but sheathed her burning blade and set her hands atop her head. “If you recapture that succubus and my idiot son,” she said, “then I will gladly go to see them punished for this disaster.”

“We will find them.” The hellwasps not guarding the erinyes were sweeping the street, killing the last few cultists who had the bad sense not to stay away.

Farideh turned to face Lorcan. “Run,” she whispered. “Come with us.”

“There is no running,” he said. “They will search until they have me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Farideh said. “They’ll kill you.”

“They might. And you’ll be safe. I told you before, darling,” he said, “I’m not such a bad fellow.”

The hellwasps buzzed nearer and Farideh clung to his arm, to keep him there out of sight, to keep him from making a mistake. He was stronger than she was, though. She couldn’t hold him and he broke free of her, pushing her back, farther behind the dead horror. Havilar caught hold of her as Lorcan stepped out into the open street, his hands held in a gesture of surrender. The remaining hellwasps spotted him and circled back, peering at Lorcan from one angle, then another.

Farideh found herself hoping that they would pass him over. But the pair of hellwasps seized Lorcan in their swordlike talons and ushered him through the waiting portal.

It snapped shut behind them like a slamming door, and Farideh let out the cry she’d been holding back. He was gone. She might never see him again.

It wasn’t what she wanted after all.

Havilar pulled at her arm. “Come along,” she said. “Unless you want to get eaten by those Chasm monsters or thrown in jail. The defenders are coming.”

Farideh watched from the crest of the hill where they’d first spied Neverwinter as the sun rose and the low light painted the massive walls bloody red. She pointed at a stone near the road. “ Assulam. ” When it shattered into fragments, she sighed. A momentary comfort.

Tam and Mehen had spotted them fleeing the scene, and separated from the confused and riled guard. None of them had spoken as they rushed out of the city, carrying only their weapons, until they reached the crest of the hill.

“Rest,” Mehen ordered. “Check your weapons and catch your breath. We’ll have to get farther on before we try to camp in case …” He snorted. “In case any of those monsters come for us.”

Farideh kept watching the city. The Chasm seemed to flicker more brightly than usual. She cast again on another stone, and again it shattered.

Havilar sidled up beside her. “Do you think they’ll kill Lorcan?” she asked in a low voice.

“I don’t know. He’s fine for now. I can’t get powers from a corpse.” Farideh rubbed her branded arm. “It was the only way for him to get home.” Havilar put an arm around her and squeezed.

“I can’t decide,” she said, “whether it would be better or worse for him to be gone. But I hope whatever happens isn’t too hard to bear.”

Farideh kept her eyes on Neverwinter, and bit her tongue. “I hope the city survives.”

“Of course it will,” Havilar said. “We routed three different threats. We ought to have stayed behind and been called heroes.”

Farideh kept quiet. There was no way, not with the Ashmadai as numerous as she’d seen, that she would stay in Neverwinter another moment. Worse, she wasn’t sure they’d been all that successful. “Did you see Rohini’s body?”

Havilar smirked. “On the end of my glaive. Do you think that monster’s going to eat her?”

“She didn’t burn up.”

“Of course she didn’t. No one set fire to her corpse. That would be horrible.”

“She’s a devil, Havi. If she died, her body should have burst into flames like those erinyes’ did.”

“Oh.” Havilar looked down at the city a moment longer. “Maybe she’s a strange kind of devil?” she said in a small voice. Farideh only hoped Rohini wouldn’t come looking for them once she’d healed herself. Whatever the Sovereignty had made of her, she was as angry as she’d been before and far more powerful.

Havilar went to sit beside Brin. Farideh broke another stone. Perhaps he would be able to convince them. Perhaps he’d be all right.

From the road to the south, the steady sound of horses thudded. Glancing back, Farideh saw a figure mounted on a heavy charger, plate mail gleaming in the sunrise. She cursed to herself. Tired as she was, it would be easier to let the rider hurl insults and ride on.

Brin had collapsed into a pile near the middle of the road, Havilar beside him. “I feel as though I could sleep for all the rest of my life. Where are we going after this?”

“I need to be in Waterdeep,” Tam said, grimly studying the curve of the High Road as it traveled away from the coast. “I’m expected there by the end of the tenday.” He paused, looking back at the twins, as if he was no longer certain what to make of them. “You’re welcome to travel with me until then.”

“If we stop in Waterdeep,” Farideh said, “we might have better luck finding a bounty. Or a guard’s job.”

“Fair enough,” Mehen said, tucking the map away. “We need to reach-”

But the rider coming up the southbound path kicked the charger into a gallop. Farideh started to step out of the road, to make way, but the rider, a woman with cropped black hair slowed, staring fixedly at the lot of them.

“Aubrin Crownsilver!” the woman bellowed.

Brin turned, and his eyes widened. “Hrast,” he said.

“Does she mean you?” Havilar asked.

The rider pulled her charger up short a dozen feet from Brin and drew her sword from its sheath. “All of you put your hands atop your heads and leave your weapons untouched.”

“Or what?” Mehen said.

“Or I shall make certain you are charged with the full range of your crimes,” she said. “Put your hands atop your heads.”

“I think we can beat her,” Havilar whispered, moving closer to Brin. “Wait,” Brin said.

“It’s better than letting her arrest you!”

“She’s not going to arrest me,” he said. “It’s Constancia.”

“Who?”

“Your bounty,” he said. “My cousin.”

The woman in the armor set her blade even with Farideh’s chest, not an ounce of fear in her cold gray eyes. The hair that had been so neatly coiffed in the printing was disheveled and filthy, but her armor put mirrors to shame.

The tip of her sword twitched, motioning Farideh aside. “Step away from His Grace.”

“His what? ” Havilar cried. She gave Brin a little shove. “What did she call you?”

“His Grace,” Constancia said, “Lord Aubrin Crownsilver of Cormyr. Stand aside or I shall detain you for kidnapping.”

“You can try,” Farideh said, drawing on her powers. She’d be damned if she would let this woman push her aside after everything else. Whatever Brin was or wasn’t, he’d stood beside her while Rohini tried to destroy Neverwinter.

Mehen stepped forward, peering at the woman, a slow smile curving the corners of his mouth and baring his yellowed teeth. He pulled the bounty poster from his breastplate. “I beg your pardon, good-woman. But I think you’re the one under arrest.”

Constancia looked at the printing, then at Mehen’s terrible smile. She looked past him at Farideh, and the warlock met the gray-eyed glare without flinching. Constancia blinked first and took in the shimmer of violet flames in Farideh’s hands.

“Oh, they’re what you think,” Farideh said hotly.