Paul Kemp: Shadowstorm

"Enough! Enough!"

Abelar didn't stop, couldn't stop, wouldn't stop.

"Consequences."

In desperation, Forrin lunged forward and stabbed at Abelar's abdomen. Abelar knocked the blade to the side and stomped on Forrin's arm. He heard the bone snap. Forrin screamed, collapsed on the ground again. Blood from his wounded leg soaked the earth under him.

Abelar stood over him, blade held high, his breath coming hard.

Cale saw what was about to happen and knew exactly what it would cost Abelar. He cursed, stood, and started to pull the shadows around him.

Riven's hand closed on his arm. "No, Cale."

Cale did not take his eyes from Abelar.

"He won't be able to live with himself if he does it."

Riven shook his head. "He won't be able to live with himself if he doesn't. You saw his son."

Cale hesitated. "A bad choice."

Riven nodded. "But that's how the world works."

Cale did know it. Being able to live with yourself and keeping your soul clean weren't always the same thing. And when it came to it, a man had to choose one or the other.

"He's different from us, Riven."

Cale did not need to look at Riven to know he wore his familiar sneer. Riven said, "No, he's not."

And Cale knew Riven was right.

Cale let the shadows dissipate. He would watch. Abelar had to make his own choice.

Abelar stood over Forrin. The mercenary rolled onto his back, bleeding, a knot the size of a pommel ball rising on his temple.

"I surrender to you, Corrinthal," he said with a pained grimace. "I surrender. The overmistress will pay for my safe return. Use me to negotiate a peace."

Abelar stared into Forrin's eyes. His thoughts turned to his son and blackened. He tightened his grip on his blade.

Forrin must have seen it. "Lathander will punish you if you do it, Corrinthal. You know that."

"I already told you," Abelar said, "there's just you and me here."

With that, Abelar reversed his grip and drove his blade through Forrin's heart, pinning him to the earth. The mercenary's eyes bulged, his legs thrashed.

Abelar twisted the blade. "That is for my son."

He twisted it again. "That is for my friends and my servants."

He twisted it once again and Forrin screamed, gasped, writhed. "And that is for Saerb."

Abelar leaned down, palms on his pommel, and stared into the mercenary's eyes. "There are always consequences, Forrin. Die with that knowledge."

Forrin said nothing, merely gagged on his own blood and took a tencount to die. When he expired, Abelar withdrew his blade and wiped it clean on Forrin's tabard.

As he sheathed it, he said softly, "Consequences for both of us."

Cale swept Riven up in the shadows and transported them to Abelar's side. Abelar did not look at them. He stared down at Forrin, his face unreadable. The mercenary's dead eyes stared up at the lightening sky.

"You saw?" Abelar asked.

Cale and Riven nodded.

"Your son is safe," Cale said.

Abelar nodded, looked to the west. Tears filled his eyes. "It's not out of me," he said.

"It never will be," Riven said. "Live with it."

Abelar eyed Riven and seemed about to speak. Cale cut him off. "We should go. I need darkness to do what I do."

Abelar smiled without mirth and looked to Riven. "Me, too, it appears."

"You did the right thing here," Riven said, and nudged Forrin's body with his toe.

"No," Abelar said. "Not the right thing, but the only thing."

"Fair enough," Riven said.

Abelar looked to Cale and said, "Please take me to my son."

Rivalen, garbed in a black cloak and blacker shadows, awaited Tamlin in the dark alley beside Siamorphe's temple. Tamlin had come alone. He wore a hooded cloak to disguise himself. His heart was racing. His breath came fast.

The shadows around Rivalen spiraled lazily from his flesh. "Are you prepared, Hulorn?"

Tamlin gulped to wet his mouth, nodded. "Where is Vees?"

"He is within. As are his fellow conspirators."

Tamlin froze. "Conspirators? We discussed only Vees."

Rivalen put a fatherly hand on Tamlin's shoulder. The shadows coiled around Tamlin's face. "I know, Tamlin. But all of them are guilty. All of them conspired against you and the city. All of them would have quietly taken positions of power as you hung on the overmistress's gallows."

Tamlin heard truth in Rivalen's tone. Still, he hesitated. Rivalen must have seen it. He said, "We have trusted each other, Hulorn. Continue in that. You wish to approach Shar? You wish to meld with the shadows, to transform your vulgar flesh into something lasting?"

Tamlin nodded. He did. He envied everything Cale was, everything Rivalen was. He wanted it.

"Then you must be Shar's instrument tonight. Now."

Tamlin stared into Rivalen's golden eyes and found his nerve. He nodded. "I'm ready."

Rivalen turned, spoke an arcane word before the alley wall, and a cunningly disguised secret door swung open. He led Tamlin inside. They descended a narrow flight of stairs until they reached a small room. A single candle provided light. Shadows danced on the gray walls. Black cloaks with purple piping hung from pegs on the wall.

"Don the cloak and throw up the hood. The Lady does not want to see your face. She wants to know your soul."

Tamlin exchanged the cloak with his own and threw up the hood. Rivalen did the same. To his surprise, Tamlin's legs felt sturdy under him.

"What occurs within Shar's temples is a secret known only to the worshipers who participate. To breach that confidence is to incur the Lady's wrath. Do you understand?"

Tamlin nodded. His heart beat faster. "I do."

"After you have served as the Lady's instrument this night, you will return to your quarters and pray to the Lady of Loss. You will offer to her a secret known only to you. This will be your Own Secret, thenceforth known only to you and the Lady and never shared with others. This will bind you to her. Do you understand?"

Tamlin nodded. He sweated under the robe. "I do."

Rivalen reached into a pocket and withdrew a thin dagger. Amethysts adorned its crosspiece and pommel. "Take this."

Tamlin stared at the blade. Rivalen held it forth and did not move. The shadows about the Prince roiled. A single strand of darkness emerged from Rivalen's flesh and coiled around the blade.

Tamlin took it. The shadows felt warm against his flesh; the blade felt cool.

Rivalen turned and opened a door. A candlelit worship hall loomed beyond. "If you walk through this door, there is no turning back. If you enter and do not do what you are here to do, I will kill you rather than let you leave."

Tamlin looked up sharply, took a step back.

"It would give me no pleasure to do so, but I would have no choice. I am not forgiving in matters of faith. Look into yourself and determine if you are willing to shed blood to have what you wish. Are you?"

Tamlin looked at the doorway, the worship hall, Rivalen. He thought of his family, his friends. They all seemed very far away. But his desires were close. He knew what he wanted. He knew there was only one way to get it. "I am."

A voice from inside sent Tamlin's heart to racing.

"Tamlin?" Vees called, his voice muffled. "Is that you? Thank the gods. Tamlin! Get me out of here. The Prince is mad."

Rivalen raised his hand and Vees fell silent.

Tamlin felt Rivalen's gaze on him, his burning golden eyes. He was studying him, measuring his reaction to Vees's voice.

Tamlin nodded and stepped through the doorway. Rivalen put a hand on his shoulder and followed. "In the darkness of night, we hear the whisper of the void," Rivalen said.

Whispers sounded in Tamlin's ears. He could not make out words, but he knew they represented a promise of power. "I hear whispers," Tamlin said, his voice hushed.