A Dance of Chaos: Book 6 of Shadowdance (21 page)

Hardly an opinion Zusa shared, but she knew it was pointless to argue. Walking to the door, she yanked it open, startling the two soldiers who still stood guard.

“Fetch Victor for us,” she said, then slammed it shut.

“I don’t care about your plans, nor if you agree,” Haern said from the corner. “Tell me where my friends are, Zusa. I won’t leave them in that madman’s hands for another second.”

“You will if you want to kill him,” Zusa said, matching the Watcher’s icy glare with one of her own. “I’ve risked everything to infiltrate Muzien’s guild, and now we finally have a chance to catch him off guard. If you run off before dawn, alone and reckless, you’ll ruin all I’ve worked for. Getting yourself killed won’t help your friends, Watcher. Only patience will.”

Haern’s hands balled into fists, his rage as palpable as the warm night air, but Zusa stared him down without fear. She was the one in control here, not he. The door opened behind them, and Victor stepped inside. He looked strange without his armor, instead wearing a loose shirt and worn pants. His sword, though, he kept with him, carrying it in its sheath with both hands. Looking none too pleased, he glanced among the three, then joined Alyssa’s side.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, taking Alyssa’s hand. It should have meant nothing, given how they were now husband and wife, but the sight of it still made Zusa’s stomach twist.

“Muzien’s planning another spectacle, this time at the fountain in the center crossroads of the city,” Zusa said. “He’s kidnapped friends of the Watcher, and hopes to use them as bait.”

“When will he start?” Victor asked, and there was no hiding his eagerness.

“When else?” Zusa said. “At the rising of the sun. He’s not one to pass up a chance for symbolism.”

Victor glanced about the room again, squeezed Alyssa’s hand.

“I take it we’re discussing how to respond?” he asked.

“Glad you’re caught up,” Haern muttered. “And the solution is obvious. I’ll wait with Zusa near the fountain, and the moment we spot my friends, we attempt our rescue. If Muzien dies during it, then all the better.”

“A reckless waste,” Zusa argued. “We have a few hours until dawn, and I say we use them. Gather every house soldier and mercenary, and prepare them for battle. Deathmask and his Ash Guild have also offered to help, though how, he insisted be left up to him. With our combined might, we can leave Muzien with nowhere to escape, dealing the Sun Guild a mortal blow. Let him give his pronouncement. It’ll be the last one he ever makes.”

“So you want to wait?” Haern asked. “How long? Until there’s a blade hanging over my friends’ heads? And worse, you’d bring Deathmask into this?”

“I’ve worked with the Ash Guild before,” Victor said. “I wouldn’t call him trustworthy, but he will be when it comes to this. He wants the Sun Guild gone just as strongly as we do.”

Haern turned away. He didn’t argue the point, which Zusa saw as a good sign.

“The night is wasting away,” Zusa said as the four stood awkwardly in the expansive bedroom. “We need to reach a decision while there is still time to act.”

“It’s a trap,” Haern said. “A trap, purposefully set for me, and you want us to walk right into it.”

“Of course it’s a trap,” Alyssa said, speaking up for the first time. For much of the discussion she’d appeared distant, lost in thought, but not now. She looked to the three with her vacant eyes, as if she could still see them. “But Muzien’s arrogant, and he thinks himself infallible. If we overwhelm him from all sides, his preparations will mean nothing. A trap for a rabbit cannot catch a bear.”

“Except it’s not a rabbit he’s after,” Haern said. “It’s me. He won’t come unprepared, and even if we can surprise him, we’re putting a lot of lives at risk. Innocent men and women will die, you have to know that.”

At that Victor laughed, and he made his way to the door.

“Innocent men and women die every day,” he said. “It’s a poor reason to let a vile man go unpunished. I’ll prepare our mercenaries for battle. For once, we’ll be the ones getting a jump on that elven bastard. It doesn’t matter what you say, Watcher. This is an opportunity, and we’re going to seize it.”

He pushed open the door, and before it could shut behind him, Zusa heard him issuing orders to the guards waiting there. Zusa stared after him, torn between relief that he had agreed with her and a gut desire to bury a dagger between his shoulder blades.

He wouldn’t be the first of Alyssa’s suitors I’ve killed
, she thought, momentarily allowing herself to entertain the fantasy.

The opening of a window turned her back around. The Watcher was halfway out, feet braced on the windowsill.

“Where are you going?” she asked him, suddenly worried Haern would ignore their requests and attempt to find and rescue the rest of the Eschaton anyway.

“You, Victor, and now the Ash Guild?” Haern said. “It seems we’re gathering help from all walks of life, so I know of one more who would love a chance to bury a blade in Muzien’s throat.”

“Who?” Zusa asked.

Haern only shook his head.

“I’ll be back before sunrise,” he said. “And don’t worry, I’ll play along. I hate this, Zusa, I hate it so much, but for the sake of this city, the Sun Guild needs to be broken, and this is the best chance we might ever have.”

With a flourish of cloaks, he leaped out the window. Zusa slowly walked over to it, grabbed it with both hands, and slammed it shut as hard as she dared without risking breaking the glass.

“Zusa?” Alyssa asked, and she turned to face her. Her dearest friend sat on the edge of the bed, hands fiddling with the hem of her robe. “Many people will die this morning, won’t they?”

A strange question to ask, and one that made her wonder. Something troubled Alyssa greatly, that much was obvious … but what?

“You know the answer,” Zusa said, walking over to her side. She almost sat down next to her, changed her mind. That closeness, that trust, appeared to be over. So instead she stood before her, arms crossed. “What is bothering you, Alyssa?”

“Are we alone?” she asked.

“We are.”

Alyssa swallowed, and she took in a deep breath. With her slow exhalation, the trembling of her hands vanished, the droop leaving her shoulders.

“Zusa … do you trust me?”

She was taken aback by the question, and it took a moment for Zusa to decide her answer. Kneeling down before Alyssa, she reached out and wrapped the woman’s hands with hers.

“No,” she said. “But if you’d ask it of me, I would trust you again.”

Relief flashed across Alyssa’s face, so swift, so brief.

“Thank you,” she said, and she brushed her fingers across Zusa’s cheek. “Thank you so much. Because come the morning, there’s something I need you to do…”

   13   

H
aern could only guess at what tortures awaited those in the Abyss, but they had to be akin to what he felt as he watched Muzien’s men drag Tarlak, Brug, and Delysia to the fountain. All three had been stripped naked and bound with rope around their wrists and ankles. By those ropes they were dragged, scraping the flesh of their backs along the hard ground. They were placed side by side, arms above their heads, thick white gags shoved into their mouths. To his minor relief, they did not appear to have been beaten. Despite the dozens of members of the Sun swarming the streets from all directions, Haern nearly jumped out the open window he watched from. Only Zusa stopped him, grabbing his arm and clutching his sleeve tightly.

“Wait,” she said. “You won’t save them by dying. Wait until the signal.”

The two of them hid on the upper floor of one of the many stores within sight of the main crossroads through the center of Veldaren, the meeting point of the west and south roads that ran from the two city gates. To the north and south, Victor’s men waited in multiple groups, positioned far enough away to ensure none of Muzien’s men saw their coming. They would wait for a runner sent by Victor from his own hiding spot on the opposite side of the street, a runner Haern prayed was already on his way.

“The moment he threatens any of the three, I’m going out there,” Haern said, fingers drumming the hard metal of his sabers’ hilts.

“And I’ll be with you,” she said. “Now endure. They won’t be in danger until Muzien shows. He’ll want their blood on his hands, and only after demanding your surrender.”

“Small comfort,” Haern whispered as members of the Sun sealed off the four exits around the crossroads and fountain, trapping at least a hundred innocent men and women within, herding them like cattle closer to the center. As he watched, more and more members of the Sun appeared from alleys and down the roads, some even crawling down from rooftops.

How many serve him now?
Haern wondered, stunned by the sight. At least two hundred bore the four-pointed star, an army of blades and arrows awaiting its king.

“Still no sign of Muzien,” Zusa said, keeping herself close to the wall and peering only as much as necessary, to prevent being spotted. To disguise her identity from Muzien, she wore a black bandanna across her mouth, a gray hood over her head, and long gloves so that very little of the color of her skin might be seen. Given better circumstances, Haern might have spent more time wondering how purposeful were the similarities to his own outfit.

“He must be waiting to make his grand entrance,” Haern said. “Do you see any of the Ash Guild?”

“No. I don’t see Thren, either. Do you fear they changed their minds?”

Haern shook his head.

“They’ll be here. Neither would be willing to miss out on something this important.”

“You’re probably right,” Zusa said, shifting so she could peer farther. Haern caught her tensing, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“There,” she said, and Haern slid beside her to watch.

With an entourage of four, positioned so they formed the points of his guild’s symbol, Muzien arrived from the south. The wall of his men and women parted for him, followed by a scattering of those innocents trapped within. To his three prisoners he strode, looking so smug and confident Haern couldn’t wait to bury his sabers in the bastard’s face. Zusa tapped his shoulder, and when she pointed, he leaned out as far as he dared to look north. From the other direction came more members of the Sun, pulling a cart. Inside it, as best he could tell from that distance, were many heavy stones.

Muzien hopped up onto the side of the fountain, lording over his three prisoners with his arms spread wide.

“People of Veldaren,” he cried, and the way he projected his words struck a memory so distinct it chilled Haern to the bone. The stance, the tone, the force of his voice … after slaying Tarlak and Delysia’s father, Delius Eschaton, Thren had addressed the people the same way. The same contempt. The same sense of absolute mastery and power.

“Your faithfulness has pleased me,” the elf continued. “But there is one who still fights against the inevitable dawn. A man who once ruled, and refuses to accept that his head no longer bears a crown. You know him as the Watcher, and it is to him I now call. Before me are your friends, people I know are close to you. We have crossed blades before, Watcher. You know you are powerless to save them. If you wish to spare their lives, only one option remains: surrender.”

Murmurs spread throughout the frightened crowd. How many of them had waited for him to challenge Muzien, Haern wondered. How many had pinned desperate hopes on the symbol of his bloody eye scrawled over the star? Now came the long-awaited challenge. Shaking his head, Haern had to laugh. Surrounded by nearly two hundred members of his guild? Not exactly the fairest of battlegrounds.

It seemed Muzien’s proclamation was finished, or at least had momentarily paused. He gestured to one of the men beside him, who went running to the cart. Eyes narrowing, Haern watched the cart roll up beside the three. Among the stones he saw thick planks of wood. Heart leaping to his throat, he realized what they were for.

“We go, now,” Haern said.

“Not yet,” Zusa hissed. “We have to wait!”

He could ignore her. A large part of him wanted to. Just leap out the window, assault every man and woman bearing the symbol of the Sun, and then pray reinforcements came in time. Only the tiniest sliver of control held him back. As the guildmembers began lifting out the planks of wood and heavy stones, Muzien turned and gave them an order Haern could not hear, but reading the words on his lips was easy enough:
Start with the girl
.