Myrin understood what Fayne wanted. More than that, she understood what Fayne was. She saw the depths of her game-saw the darkness in her heart. "What happened to you?"
Fayne shook her head. She pulled a bone shaft from her belt-the wand from the vision, Cythara's wand-and slid it across her cheek. The scar smoothed out and vanished.
"Whatever you saw, it doesn't matter," Fayne said. "It has nothing to do with you." tea
"I saw you. Saw what you are. Ah"-Myrin shivered-"what are you?" t Fayne laughed-and in rhat moment, all the tension went out of her. "Oh, stop it-you're so cute when you're scared." She nuzzled her thumb into Myrin's cheek.
Despite herself, Myrin had to smile.
"You don't have anything to worry about." Fayne traced her fingers down her cheek. "This is one of my rare noble moments." "Noble?" Myrin blinked.
"Indeed," Fayne said. "The very existence of our world is at stake, and you can save it."
Myrin narrowed her eyes. "How?"
"Simple, my dear," Fayne said with a smile. "You can die." Myrin laughed, but the nervous sound died away. Fayne's face was mortally serious.
"You… you're not jesting?"
Fayne shook her head. "No, tragically. Your very existence is a threat to yourself, everyone around you, and perhaps all of Faerun."
Myrin was stunned. "But… but I haven't done anything!"
"No," Fayne said. "But you will."
"You… you can't kill me for something I might do!"
"Will," said Fayne. "I didn't say might. Will."
"Tell me what it is!" Myrin said. "I won't do it-I promise!"
"No. I'm sorry, but it's inevitable. You can't stop yourself." Fayne shook her head sadly. "You might do it by accident, or more likely some villain or other will use you. You come across an archmage or one of the plaguechanged… sooner or later, you will absorb something coo powerful for you to control."
"I don't understand." Myrin's heart was racing. "What do you mean, absorb?"
"Never mind. The point is that the power inside you is simply too dangerous for you to exist," Fayne said. "Thus, I'm going to take you to someone-someone who can contain you safely, without destroying the city in the process." She touched Myrin's cheek, a little more guarded this time, as though fearing another vision. "Don't worry-you might not have to die."
Tears were streaming down Myrin's face. "Why are you saying this? I'm… I'm just a girl. I hardly even have any magic! You can't possibly…"
"You're a goddess," Fayne said.
Myrin's eyes went so wide they might have popped. "I'm… what?"
"No, no, that was a jest." Fayne tried to stifle her laughter with her hand. "Honestly, you should have seen your face." Myrin wasn't laughing.
Fayne's expression grew grave once more. "To be accurate, you've got a goddess inside you-or, more truly, the death of one," she said. "Metaphorically speaking, you're carrying death, little one-the death of the old world. Just like all the other spellscarred. Like Kalen. Like Lady-" Her eyes narrowed. "Like that whore."
"I–I don't-what?"
"It's complicated." She pursed her lips. "You're all spellscarred, but you, Myrin, are far more interesting than any of them. Your powers…"
"But what are they?" Myrin almost wept. "What do I do?" "This is delightful," Fayne said. "You really don't know, do you?" Myrin shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "Very well," Fayne said. "I'll tell you, but only because I fancy you well."
"What?" Myrin choked on the word. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Fayne bent as though to kiss Myrin, then recoiled, thinking better of it. "Let us begin this way," she said, catching Myrin by the chin. "You remember the lich, in the alley, when you were kidnapped, yes?"
"Yes, I-but I chased her away. I didn't-"
"Silly girl." Fayne batted Myrin across the chin, almost playfully- the way a cat might. "You didn't honestly think that power was yours, did you?"
Myrin's lungs heaved and she could barely speak. "I… I don't understand.". t
Then Myrin wept for true-terrified, confused, and frustrated. Had the world gone mad? She was just Myrin-little more than a slip of a girl, with hardly any magic to her name. She wanted her mother- whose face she didn't even remember. That made her weep more.
"Oh, sweetling, don't-I'll be plain, I promise."
Myrin was crying, and damn it if Fayne was going to stop her with anything less than divine revelation.
Fayne smiled. "Remember when we first met?" she asked. "I fussed over you, then later, you struck me with that spell? The one that hurt me and stripped my strength?"
"What-what of it?" Myrin asked between sobs.
"That was my spell," Fayne said. "Stolen out of my head."
The words froze Myrin, and she looked up, stunned.
Fayne raised her hand, murmured a few words, and Myrin felt the same pressure in her mind as she had used to strike Fayne in Kalen's tallhouse.
Myrin stared, heart hammering, as Fayne knelt and picked up the gag.
"Please," Myrin said. "Please-I need to know more!" Fayne scoffed. "Only this," she said. "Folk never change. Do not forget that."
"Fayne, plea-!"
Fayne shoved the gag back in Myrin's mouth with enough force to knock her over. By the time Myrin recovered and looked up, the half-elf was gone.
THIRTY-THREE
The sun dipped outside his window. Dusk fell quickly, and mist flowed into Waterdeep once more. No strange glowing patches would appeat that night, though-only calm, expectant fog to shroud the city, hiding the unpleasant things that needed to be done.
The faltering light slanted across the blood-stained floor that Kalen had done his best to clean.
Though Kalen didn't feel like eating, he forced himself. However much Cellica had spiced it, the cold stew tasted like soggy paper. In part, it was his curse; in part, it was fate.
The dwarf was giving him some time, and he was glad of that much, at least.
He'd taken Cellica to her adoptive family in a hired carriage. They'd accepted the body with tears and sobs. Kalen hadn't been able to face her adoptive siblings and stood aloof. Philbin, so like a father, had whispered a silent prayer for vengeance. Kalen had nodded silently.
Now, Kalen sat wearing the armor Cellica had repaired, rolling his helm between his gauntleted hand and his bare one. He had only one gauntlet, after rhat noble stripling had taken his second away. He was supposed to do this alone, weakened, without his full armor or even his sword? Impossible, he thought, and yet, he had no choice.
He looked again at the scroll on the table-the note that had been affixed to his door with a dagger. His dagger, that he had given Myrin the night before.
Shadow,
Rath is making me write this.
Come to the Grim Statue at midnight or he will kill us. Come alone.
He says he may just kill one of us and maim the other. He says you can pick. -E
Kalen ran his hand across his grizzled chin, thinking. Why had Rath spared him? And, above that, did Rath know he was Shadowbane?
The dwarf could be toying with him, but Kalen did not think that Rath was the sort to play games with his prey. He must have known Kalen was in the room, helpless and asleep. If he'd known Shadowbane slumbered nearby, he could have slain him easily, or awakened him so they could duel on the spot. And if he didn't know Kalen was Shadowbane, he would have had no hesitations about killing him in his sleep.
For the life of him, Kalen could not puzzle out why he was still alive.
Then he realized: Fayne.
Fayne must have done something to spare his life. Perhaps she convinced Rath that Kalen knew Shadowbane, and could deliver the letter. Perhaps she begged Rath not to kill him-perhaps she offered him lewd favors in return…
Kalen grimaced and clenched his fist.
Or perhaps he did not owe Fayne his life at all, but owed it rather to Rath himself. The dwarf came from a monastery-he knew great discipline. Perhaps he would have thought sla
ying a helpless man to be dishonorable. And leaving Cellica to die hadn't been?
"Twisted sense of honor," Kalen murmured, but in truth, he was hardly in a position to judge. Woujd his own code make sense to anyone besides himself?
It had made sense to Cellica, he thought.
He shook his head. Thinking with his heart was a weakness he could ill afford.
Surely Rath would have obtained healing, but likely the scars on his wrist would stop him fighting with his sword hand, or perhaps compromise his technique. That was an advantage for Kalen-a strength. He passed the helmet to his right hand, in its steel gauntlet.
Kalen did not have Vindicator-that was a weakness. He passed the helm to his left hand.
Rolling the helm back to his right hand, Kalen thought he was the stronger-strength.
Rath had proven, rhough, that his skill more than compensated for Kalen's strength-weakness. He rolled the helmet to his left.
Kalen wore armor that allowed him mobility-strength.
Rath did not need armor and seemed not to tire, while Kalen had to carry the weight of his leathers-weakness.
Kalen had the threefold god-strength.
They almost matched for speed, but Rath was just enough faster-weakness.
Rath had Fayne and Myrin, while Kalen had no bargaining power-weakness.
Rath had picked the dueling ground-weakness.
And, most important, Kalen was dying of spellplague-weakness.
Kalen was holding the helmet in his unarmored left hand. He hefted it, as though trying to dispel his doubts, then shook his head.
Going into this duel was tantamount to falling on his own blades, but he had to try.
"If I don't," he murmured, "then who will?" The words he had shared with Myrin.
He felt the familiar chill at the base of his neck that told him he was not alone-someone stood just outside his door. Had Rath chosen to kill him by stealth after all?
He lifted his helm and slid it on, fastening the buckles with distinct, if muted, clicks.
Then he was up, dagger in his hand, facing the door. It burst open, as if by cue, and a woman in black coat-of-piate armor stood before him. In her hands was a hand-and-a-half sword that dripped with silver fire.
"Waterdeep Guard!" she cried. He knew her voice.
Araezra.
Shadowbane turned to the window, but a red-haired woman sat on the sill, hands at the hilts of twin knives-Talanna. "Lost your other gauntlet, have you?" she asked. "Shadowbane?"
Kalen pressed his lips firmly together-they would know his voice.
"Down arms and doff your helm," Araezra commanded. "In the name of the city."
He looked for another way out. Cellica's window, perhaps, but that was a small fit. He could try his luck with Araezra, but a dagger would be as nothing against Vindicator. He might escape with a wound, but he could hardly fight Rath while hurt.
"Do it now," Araezra said. "Down arms and unveil yourself!"
He dropped the dagger, which stabbed into the floorboards, there to quiver. He made no move to unbuckle his helm.
"You're making a mistake," he said as gruffly as he could, to hide his identity. "I've done nothing illegal or-"
"The time for masks is past, lad," said Talanna. She hefted her blades dangerously.
He thought desperately but could find nothing. He nodded.
"Slowly, then," Araezra said. "Unveil yourself-slowly."
He put his hands out, showing them empty-his left hand bare, his right hand gauntleted. Then he reached up and opened the clasps of his helm and pulled it off. He watched Araezra's face and saw the hope in her eyes fade. And with it, his own hopes.
"I knew it!" Talanna clapped the blades of her daggers together and grinned. She looked at Araezra, who grimaced angrily. "I told you, Rayse-didn't I tell you?"
Kalen blinked. "What?"
"Kalen." Araezra lowered Vindicator, setting the point against the floor. "I tried so hard to believe it wasn't you. Even up until I knocked on your door, I thought there would be an explanation." She shook her head. "I didn't think you would lie to me, but you did."
"I'm sorry," he said. "You were never supposed to know."
Araezra's eyes narrowed. "Never supposed to know? You think me a dullwit, then?"
Kalen blinked.
"All those stories we heard," Araezra said. "About the gray knight who feels no pain? And the colorless eyes. You think I don't know your eyes, Kalen? We've…"
She looked at Talanna, who grinned. Araezra nodded toward the window, as though directing her out to give them privacy, but Talanna only shrugged, feigning ignorance.
With a scowl, Araezra looked to Kalen. "It was only circumstantial, until that night in Downshadow-when you saved first me, then Tal. We were chasing you, and you came back for us anyway. You didn't want to be caught, but you didn't want us hurt. You're always like that-taking care of us whether we want it or not."
Kalen looked at the floor. He supposed it was true. "I never meant to offend."
"And the ball," said Talanna. She grinned. "Rayse told me about the ball."
"What about the ball?" Kalen asked. He thought he'd hidden himself well enough there.
Araezra waved. "When all the panic started, Shadowbane appeared and picked up Cellica, of all folk, and leaped up-" She trailed off.
"We're sorry," Talanna said. "That's why we've come-because of Cellica." Kalen opened his mouth, but she continued. "Of course we heard. Her family was just concerned about you, Kalen. They sent word to the Watch, and we requested to go along for the task."
"So, now," Kalen said. "You've come to arrest me?"
Talanna laughed.
Araezra didn't look so amused. "Aye, or so the ten Watchmen below think," Araezra said. "You're a dangerous vigilante, Kalen. We came up alone to talk to you, and they're under orders to follow if either of us shouts. But since we know you and love you well, we came to see if you would come peaceably."
"What happens now?" Kalen looked at the dagger stuck in the floor. He was fast, he knew-could he knock Talanna to the floor before she could put two daggers in him?
"We arrest you," Araezra said. Then she shrugged. "On the morrow."
Kalen blinked. "What?"
"Assuming, of course, you're still in the city," Talanna said. "But why would you leave? Waterdeep is the city of splendors-everything you could ever want is here, aye?"
Araezra shifted her boots.
"We worked out a wonderful tale," Talanna said. "We found you, agony-stricken, inconsolable. Plying that indefinable charm of yours, you lulled Rayse and I-"
"Mostly her" Araezra noted.
"— into lowering our guard," Talanna continued. "Then you sprang from the window and fled!" She grinned. "Naturally, the story will vary around the Watch for months, and I expect you'll have charmed us both into bed and escaped while we were searching for our trousers, but nevertheless!" She sighed grandly. "Ah, such is the legend of Kalen Dren!"
Araezra groaned.
Talanna sheathed her daggers and stepped toward Kalen. "Here," she said. "Take this." In her hand was her golden ring of carved feathers. "I've had my fill of high places."
"It was a gift," Kalen said. "Won't Lord Neverember be offended?"
"He can always buy me another." Talanna shrugged. "I owe you a debt for saving me."
It was pointless to argue. Kalen did not don the ring, but laced it into the sleeve over his bare hand, so he could use it at a heartbeat's notice.
"I am sorry for this," he said. "I love you both well, and I never meant to hurt you." He looked especially at Araezra. "I mean… hurt the Guard."
Talanna laughed. "Surely you jest! Your exile from the city will be the cheeriest bit of news the Guard's had in ages." She winked at Araezra. "It means some certain lass has become free game once again."
Red in the face, Araezra looked ready to strangle Talanna.
"What are you talking about?" Kalen asked.
"Are you that dull?" Tala
nna asked. "For months, Rayse has been free of suitors because everyone thought that you two-"
Araezra's cheeks were burning. "Shouldn't you be going, Kalen?"
He smiled weakly then said, "I have aught to do, first."
"Does this have to do with Cellica?" Araezra asked gently. "If so, let the Watch-"
"I can't," he said. "I'm sorry-I can't tell you. I must do it alone."
Araezra sighed. "You always seem to have to be alone," she whispered.
Kalen donned his helm once more and secured it in place. "Araezra-I'm sorry."
"I know," Araezra said. "Just-one thing."
He turned toward her, thankful for the helm that hid his anxious expression. "Aye?"
"In the Room of Records," she said. "When Rath was holding me prisoner, and you came in. You… you did what you did, broke your vow, to protect me, didn't you?"
Kalen didn't trust his tongue, so he just nodded.
She stepped forward, snaked her arms about his neck, and pressed her lips to his cold, shining helm. "Thank you," she murmured.
He smiled inside his steel mask.
Then she slapped him lightly, causing his helmet to vibrate and his ears to ring. "I don't need you making decisions about what is best for me," Araezra said. "I can make those myself."
"Yes, Araezra."
"Rayse" she corrected.
Talanna rolled her eyes. "No wonder you two didn't last."
Araezra reversed Vindicator and handed it to him. As she did, her hand lingered on his. She gazed into his eyes, and he into hers. He knew she wanted to say much, but both of them knew she could not say it.
"I will miss you, Vigilant Dren," she finally said.
"And I you," he said, "Rayse."
She smiled widely, as though he'd paid her the finest compliment in Waterdeep.
"Now, go do what you must," she said. She straightened and her face turned stony. "Farewell, and remember-begone by the morrow. You have one day."
Talanna winked at him. "One day," she repeated. "Then I get to chase you down."
Kalen nodded, turned, and leaped out the window. He hit the roof of the building across the alley, rolled to his feet, and broke into a run.
He would need only one night.
THIHTY-FOnn
Downshadow w-3 Page 26
