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Authors: Kelly McCullough

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BOOK: Broken Blade
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“Oh, how I’ve missed this.” She drew her fingers across the base of her belly then, setting the simple spell that prevented pregnancy.
A wasted effort that, since I had long since chosen to give up my ability to have children. Most of the Blades of Namara did so rather than run the risk of creating divided loyalties.
 
A
worried-looking Heyin was waiting in the woods across the river when we turned up some time later.
“I thought you said you were only going to take a quiet look around.” He pointed accusingly back the way we’d just come, to where a huge column of smoke stretched toward the moon, and flames were pouring out of what remained of the keep’s upper stories.
“Things got complicated.” Maylien sounded contrite but gave me a wicked wink when Heyin glanced back at the fire.
Heyin sighed. “Tell me about it.”
So, we did, or most of it at least.
“You’re damned lucky there weren’t any more of those things in the moat, Maylien,” he said when we came to the end of our tale. “What madness possesses you that you do such damn-fool things?”
“Aral keeps calling me a crazy woman,” she replied. “Does that answer work for you? If not, call it a calculated risk. I figured if there were more, they’d have shown up by then.”
Heyin shook his head and sighed, but didn’t argue. “What were they, anyway? I thought the risen were supposed to be slow, shambling sorts of creatures. The thing you described sounds more like what you’d get if you could somehow hype a ghoul up on caras dust.”
I nodded. “As far as the way they moved, yes. But they definitely weren’t ghouls. No fangs and no real claws for starters, just ragged nails on the one that still had the flesh to hold them. They were stronger and tougher than ghouls, too. No, they were risen all right, but someone had done something special with them. I want to say I’ve heard or read something like it somewhere before, but I can’t pin down when or where.”
“Speaking of pinned down,” said Heyin. “We should be going. That fire’s likely to draw the attention of any patrols that Sumey has out in the area, and I’d rather not run into one of them.”
 

Baroness
Marchon!” a young woman ran in and knelt before Maylien’s chair.
Two weeks had passed since the destruction of the keep—the fire had burned it to the foundations, robbing us of any opportunity for learning anything further from the site. We still hadn’t settled on the details for a plan to get Maylien through to her sister for a duel though we had the broad outlines down. It pretty much had to happen at Marchon House in Tien, for example. We were sitting in Exile House’s formal dining room going over a map of the Sovann Hill for about the forty-seventh time.
“What is it?” asked Maylien.
“A carrier pigeon just came in with a spell-sealed message for you,” said the woman.
Maylien took the tiny scrap of paper and started reading. Within moments, her expression turned dark.
“What is it?” asked Heyin.
“It’s from our
friend
in Sumey’s household. My sister is going to move to have me impeached before the king. She’s planning on using the loss of the keep we torched as cause to have me declared outlaw though how she can prove I had anything to do with that, I don’t know. This says she will bring the charges when the king next holds formal court in five days’ time. If she succeeds, I will no longer be eligible to issue challenge. We have to move now, before that can happen.”
“I’ll draft the letter for you,” said Heyin. “When should I say you will be coming for her?”

 

20
Down!
I tapped Maylien on the shoulder, giving her the prearranged signal. She dropped flat on the wet roof, and I dropped on top of her, while Triss settled over both of us. We stayed there in the dark and the cold spring rain, getting steadily damper and more frustrated for about a quarter of an hour before Triss finally whispered that we could move again. Then we crawled backward toward the narrow street that ran behind the large and expensive apartment house we’d only just ascended.
Above and ahead of us on the Temple of Athera, one of the Elite hunkered down on the lee side of the bell tower, resting his forehead against the shoulder of the stone dog staring off to the northwest. The dog stood atop a thick limestone buttress that made for one of the few rooftop positions that could both support its weight and provide a way for it to get up there. Between the night and the rain, they’d have been nearly invisible to normal eyes. But in magesight, the glow of the Elite’s many active spells illuminated them from within.
When we’d first slipped up over the edge of the roof, the man had been hidden by the bell tower, and his unspelled stone dog had all but vanished against the stone and slate of the rooftop. But then the Elite came around the corner, all aglow with his spells, and started scanning the southern rooftops. Triss and I could still have gotten past him and his familiar unnoticed on our own, but there simply wasn’t enough of Triss to cover both Maylien and me fully if we tried to move. So we’d had to wait until the Elite took his little break for an opportunity to move back off the roof.
Now we dropped over the roof’s edge onto a third-floor balcony, putting the building between us and the watchers. From there it was easy enough to climb down a floor and drop the rest of the way to the street below unseen. We retraced our steps further, moving back into a dark and stinking alley that provided some shelter from the rain as well as from the eyes of our foes. Bontrang briefly stuck his head out of Maylien’s bag then and made a piteous little squawking noise. It sounded to me like a complaint about the awful weather.
I couldn’t help but agree with him. Both because I sympathized about the misery factor and because it would have been awfully nice to have his eyes in the sky to warn us about things like all the damned Elite on the rooftops. On the other hand, at least the storm was keeping everyone who didn’t have to be there off the streets.
“That’s the third roadblock we’ve run into in the hour since sundown,” I said, “and that smells bad. One member of the Elite blocking a chimney road route up onto the Sovann Hill could easily be there on some business unrelated to ours. Maybe even two. But make it three, and add in the Crown Guards who are crawling all over the fucking place, and it means that the king or someone close to him is trying to cordon off the area. Now, there might be some reason for that other than your challenge tomorrow morning, but I’m having trouble believing in that much coincidence.”
“It’s no coincidence, I’m sure of it.” Maylien’s eyes were downcast, her voice discouraged. “My sister seems to have enlisted crown support.”
“I thought the crown was specifically forbidden from interfering in this sort of challenge,” Triss said from within my shadow, “that your sister could only use her own resources.”
Maylien sighed and shook her head. “Against
me
yes. Against an unidentified renegade Blade? Or, depending on what she’s told them, Aral the Kingslayer? I don’t think she’d have any trouble enlisting crown support in that case. Hell, if she’s really got Deem in her pocket, she might not even need to talk to Uncle Thauvik.”
“When did you come up with all that?” I asked. I didn’t like it one little bit, but it fit the circumstances.
“A few minutes ago, as we were climbing back down the third wall that we’d just climbed up.”
“That’s a major problem,” said Triss. His voice seemed to be coming from somewhere near the entrance of the alley then—he’d spread himself out to keep an eye on things as soon as we ducked into the deeper dark. “We can’t do a big sail-jump with Maylien riding along. That plus all the royal attention severely limits our number of possible routes up the hill.”
“So you two can’t get to Marchon House
with me
, and I can’t get into Marchon House
without you
,” said Maylien. “Basically, we’re dead in the water.”
“There’s got to be some way around this,” I said. “Maybe we can split up and meet on the hill somewhere. If we didn’t have to cover you, Triss and I could get past the cordon easily enough. If the crown’s really not allowed to interfere with your challenge, you
should
be able to pass through without any problems, right?”
“In theory,” said Maylien. “But I’ve got a nasty feeling it’s not going to work that way in practice. You’re right about this whole thing stinking. I don’t know whether that’s because Thauvik has decided to support my sister’s claim against me as actively as he dares, or if it’s just antimage prejudice. Either way, I’m afraid there’ll be trouble with the guards.”
“I’d love to say something reassuring at this point,” I replied, “but I suspect you’re right. The question is do we try it anyway? If we do, then how do we do it without blowing the whole game if you turn out to be right?”
“Well,” said Triss, “there are a couple of Crown Guards coming along the street at the far end of the alley—I can see their lantern. How about we have Maylien step out that way and see what they do when they spot her? We should be far enough from the Elite on the temple there to keep things quiet if we have to take them down.”
I didn’t like the idea much, but I couldn’t think of anything better, so I just shrugged and said, “Maylien?”
“Let’s do it.”
As we hurried toward the farther street, we put together our basic plan. When we reached the end of the alley, Maylien set Bontrang on my shoulder and touched his forehead lightly, giving him mental orders. He squawked complainingly again but bobbed his head. Then Maylien stepped out into the street and turned away from the oncoming guards without ever looking their way, heading toward the hill. I pulled Triss around me and stayed in the shadows, waiting for the guards to go past.
The pair were tall and professional, the picture of crack troopers and much of a size, though the woman didn’t have quite the same breadth of shoulder. After they went by, I launched Bontrang into the air and slipped in behind them. Maylien, who’d been walking slowly to start with, slowed even more as she approached the intersection ahead, as though unsure about where she was. It was really intended to keep down the number of potential witnesses. The guards obliged us by catching her up just short of the crossing street—a wider artery leading up onto the Sovann and important enough to have a scattering of streetlights.
“My lady? Could you answer a few questions for us?” asked the man, his voice extremely polite—as it ought to be when dealing with an obvious noble.
Maylien had put on an elaborate and expensive dueling blade that had belonged to her mother. It marked her as a member of the high nobility, as did the rich silk of the clothes she’d chosen to wear. Now she played the part as well, turning to give the soldier a sharp, annoyed look.
“Why?” she demanded. “What do you want to know?”
“We’re looking for a serious criminal,” he answered, keeping his voice polite. “One of those Namara cultists that the true gods proscribed a few years ago. The assassins.”
There was a time those comments would have sent me into a rage that I’d have had a hard time restraining. But after five years on the run, I’d gotten very good at controlling my responses to nasty things said about me and mine. If I hadn’t, I’d have died. Now I just tightened my jaw and moved in closer.
“I thought the Blades were all supposed to be dead,” said Maylien.
“We’re working on it,” answered the guard. “But there are a few left around, and one of them’s in the area right now . . .”
He had more to say, but I stopped listening as his partner’s actions suddenly drew my full attention. She’d very quietly opened her pouch, using her partner and the wet darkness to hide her movement from Maylien. As she reached inside, I decided I had to take a risk, and so, hoping there were no mages about to see me, I summoned a charge of magelightning, focusing it in my right hand.
When she pulled out a small piece of paper with a line drawing of Maylien and a tiny dimly glowing rune on it, I extended the shadow that surrounded me to touch the back of her neck and released the lightning with a brilliant flare. I didn’t know what the rune was for, but I knew I couldn’t let her activate it.
She went down in a heap, dead or unconscious. Her partner whirled around in surprise at the flash, half-drawing his sword. I summoned a second charge and touched his chest, and he went down, too, dropping the lantern, which shattered, spilling its lightstone into the street. Then I released Triss and knelt to check the nearer guard’s pulse.
BOOK: Broken Blade
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