Jon Sprunk - Shadow’s Lure

“You,” Josey said, “should be abed yourself, Master Hirsch. Your wounds are serious.”

“My impending demise was exaggerated,” he answered with a wink. “Did you happen to strike the creature, lass? Did you draw blood?”

Thinking she would have to have a long talk with the adept about keeping secrets from his empress, Josey found the knife on the floor. The glow remained, but the point was clean.

“Powers be damned,” Hirsch muttered.

Josey opened her mouth to chide his blasphemy, but she didn’t have the energy.

“You need blood?”

Steel scraped across the floor as Captain Drathan lifted his sword. An oily fluid stained the end of the blade.

With Hubert’s assistance, Hirsch hobbled over to the captain and reached for the weapon. He held it up to the light. “It’s arterial blood.”

“What does that mean?” Josey asked.

Hirsch laughed. “It means we’ve got the beastie right where we want it.”

“We do?” Hubert asked.

Hirsch held out the blade. “With this, I can follow the blasted thing anywhere.”

Josey’s heart beat faster. “Master Hirsch, are you certain?”

“Aye. But we must track it down right away.”

“First we have to get these men to the hospice, and you are in no condition to-”

“I am able to continue,” Captain Drathan said, standing up as if to prove it.

“Captain, you are in no condi-”

“We must finish this,” Hirsch said with a rasp that turned into a cough.

Josey was getting tired of everyone interrupting her. “You need to rest, Master Hirsch, and my guardsmen…”

She looked down at the soldiers on the floor, their blood mingling with the thick dust. Two more deaths at my feet.

The adept’s frame trembled, but his gaze was steady. “We must do it tonight, before the creature has a chance to recover. Before it can harm anyone else.”

Josey heard the wisdom in the adept’s words, but she hesitated. It would mean ordering more soldiers into harm’s way, and she was already holding so much misery inside. Any more and she felt she would collapse.

“All right,” she said. “But I’m going with you.”

Hubert opened his mouth to protest, and Captain Drathan sputtered. The adept’s lips turned down into a sour frown, but Josey put on her “empress” face and he said no more. She was terrified, especially for the life growing inside her, but she had to be strong.

“Lord Chancellor, conduct a search of the entire palace, including the outer grounds. I am guessing the assassin has fled, but we need to be sure.”

Hubert nodded and made way as Josey walked past him. Holding up the glowing knife, she led them down the darkened corridor, back to the inhabited portion of the palace.

Caim blew into his cupped hands to warm them. He stood with his fighters in a dark alleyway off Trepmire Avenue, a corridor of furrier stores and taxidermists in the city’s upper west end. The street had one shining feature: it gave a clear view to the citadel at the heart of the city. He was following his instincts at this point. They had gotten him this far.

Kit huffed. “It’s a mark past midnight already. What are we waiting for?”

In defiance of the cold, or perhaps just to tweak his nose, she wore a slinky white dress. Past midnight. Caim counted days in his head. Gods above. Today is Yuletide.

Hoping the holy day wasn’t a bad omen, Caim leaned out of the alley. The contrast with Othir couldn’t have been starker. In the south, Josey’s city would be festooned with lights and holly wreaths. People were still out this late, visiting with family and friends. But here, the frozen streets were empty. No people, no lights. But there were plenty of bodies to be seen as they infiltrated the city. It looked like a war had been fought inside the walls, and he couldn’t tell who had won. They’d heard the roar of battling mobs in distant streets and seen the glow of fires erupting all across Liovard, but with Kit’s help he’d been able to steer his men around the trouble spots. It reminded him of the riots in Othir, but these people seemed almost crazed, some half naked as they attacked everything and everyone around them.

Once inside the old city, Ramon and Angus had taken their men and split off on a different track, something to which they were well suited and prepared. Waiting for their signal, he hoped they knew what they were doing.

Keegan came up to stand beside him. The youth was wrapped in his cloak. His hands were gloved, his face blackened with soot. Caim told him before they embarked not to hold back. Tonight, they hunted in earnest. By the look in his eyes, the boy had taken that to heart.

“Well. What are we waiting for?”

Caim looked from Kit to Keegan, then ignored them both.

“Caim,” Kit whispered.

He felt it, too. A bizarre undercurrent in the city, stronger than before, setting his nerves on edge. Then distant bells began to ring, and a new glow lightened the east side of the city. That was the signal. Caim took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. It was time for the next phase of his plan. The idea was simple. He’d done it before without trying, but never on such a scale. True, he had been fighting for his life in those moments, but if he did it by accident, he could do it deliberately. So why are my hands shaking? Stop stalling.

He pictured a place. He’d never been there, but he had a rough description. That would have to be enough. An image formed in his mind, an empty courtyard paved in broad stone blocks surrounded by gray walls. He added battlements and defensive towers. When the picture was as real as he could make it, Caim reached out with his mind. Whispers chattered at his back as an empty hole appeared in the air at the mouth of the alley. It remained steady for a pair of heartbeats, but then the edges began to ripple. The strain of holding the gateway open was more than he had anticipated.

Caim beckoned the men standing behind him. “Move! Quick!”

Keegan was the first in line. With only a brief glance at Caim, he ducked his head and jumped through the portal. For a moment, Caim thought the rest might balk, but one by one they entered. By the time the last of his team had crossed over, his entire body was shaking, and the edges of the portal wavered. Hoping Keegan remembered his instructions, Caim dove through.

Darkness closed over his eyes, and the air froze in his lungs as he passed through the void. A tearing sensation pulled at his flesh. It might have lasted for one heartbeat or a dozen, but then the night sky reappeared before his feet struck hard-packed earth. It took him a moment to gain his bearings. As his sight cleared, Caim made out the battlements atop a massive barbican, stone walls studded with square towers, and the keep squatting within their embrace. He had expected some kind of reception-a few sentries on the walls, at least-but there was no one here. That bothered him more than a little. It didn’t seem possible Ramon’s diversion had attracted every soldier in the citadel.

A soft glow surrounded him as Kit appeared. Instead of a quip and a grin, she greeted him with a frown.

“I don’t like this.”

“Me neither,” he said under his breath.

“This place has a bad aura. Like a lot of people died here recently.”

“Just get inside and poke around. We need to find the duke.”

“Be careful.” She leveled a stern glance at him as she vanished.

The outlaws hunkered against the base of the nearest wall. Caim found Keegan standing over one of the men, who was writhing on the flagstones and clutching his knee.

“What happened?”

Keegan looked up. “Iain slipped coming out of that circle thing and broke his leg.”