The Black Bouquet r-2

by Richard Lee Byers

  "I thought we agreed," the magician said, "that I'd keep my distance."

  "I'm settling this business now," Kesk said, "without another second of delay, and that means I need you to open this." He gave the strongbox a little kick. "Get to it."

  "Very well," the wizard said. He dropped to one knee, inspected the coffer, and muttered a charm under his breath. "The wards are gone."

  Kesk gave Aeron a suspicious scowl. The human outlaw shrugged.

  "I'm no arcanist," the rogue said. "How could I be sure of that?"

  "I suppose the important thing," said the wizard, "is what's inside."

  He removed a silver key from his pocket. The metal shimmered subtly in a manner that made Aeron suspect it was enchanted, like Burgell's skeleton key. He slipped it in the lock, twisted it, and the box popped open. The magician raised the lid completely and lifted out the musty black volume inside.

  It wasn't The Black Bouquet, just another old, similarly colored volume Aeron had pilfered from the shop of a used book dealer. But neither Kesk nor his employer had ever laid eyes on the original, and shouldn't be able to tell until they looked inside. For the moment, they gazed raptly at what they took to be the prize they'd worked so hard to win. Anyone would have done the same.

  Excitement, however, didn't turn Kesk completely stupid. He never could have schemed and murdered his way to ascendancy in Oeble's underworld if he was that easy a mark. He still kept a wary eye on Aeron, but unfortunately for the tanarukk, Aeron wasn't the one who was about to attack him. The redheaded outlaw simply eased a step backward, out of what was supposed to be the area of effect of Sefris's spell. Her timing was perfect. A split second later, tatters of shadow exploded from a central point in the air like the petals of some hellish flower blooming all in an instant. Caught in the silent blast, Kesk and his employer thrashed as if some fierce beast had seized them in its jaws.

  It was possible that Aeron could have killed them both in that moment of near paralysis, but he still would have had to contend with the other outlaws, and the two Gray Blades who, alarmed by the murky burst of magic, were pivoting in his direction. All things considered, he deemed it best to get Nicos moving away while everyone was still startled. The spell had stunned the old man, too. When, taking care not to touch the rippling corona of shadow, Aeron grabbed him by the arm and hustled him away from his captors, reflex kept him shuffling along until his senses cleared.

  Aeron peered desperately around, looking for all the Red Axes who were no doubt rushing to attack him. The plan called for Sefris to throw at least one follow-up spell at Kesk and the wizard, Aeron's two closest and most dangerous enemies, to keep them from chasing right after him, which meant that for a second at least, he was on his own when it came to dealing with the common ruffians.

  The man with the tattooed hands threw a javelin. Either he didn't guess Aeron still hadn't surrendered the Bouquet, he was too excited and full of bloodlust to care, or maybe Kesk had ordered his henchmen to kill the pest and be done with it no matter how the meeting turned out. Aeron jerked his father out of the way. The second spear flew wild, almost striking a curly-headed goodwife carrying a wicker shopping basket on her arm. She squealed. Other people started shouting and shrieking, too.

  A bugbear charged with a mace in either hand. Aeron lifted a throwing knife, but then one of the Gray Blades scrambled into the creature's path. He almost certainly had no clear idea of what was really going on, but recognized murderous intent when he saw it. The Red Axe tried to smash him out of its way, and he parried the first blow with his broadsword.

  A crossbow bolt streaked past Aeron's head. He didn't know precisely where it had come from, and was simply glad it would take the marksman a few moments to reload. He glimpsed motion and pivoted. A Red Axe was drawing his bow. Aeron poised himself to spring aside and pull Nicos out of harm's way as well. He would have succeeded, too, except that the arrow must have been another enchanted weapon, for in flight, it multiplied into three.

  One of them struck Aeron in the forearm. Denying the shock that might otherwise have made him slow and stupid, he snapped the shaft off short so it wouldn't hinder his movements.

  "Are you hit?" he asked his father.

  "No," Nicos panted, "but you are. You have to leave me. I'm slowing you down too much."

  "After I went to all this trouble? To the Nine Hells with that. Just watch my back."

  A Red Axe armed with a short sword charged them. Aeron threw an Arthyn fang, and the snapping motion triggered the first flare of pain from the arrowhead still embedded in his muscle. Still, the knife flew straight, and caught the bravo in the chest.

  An orc wearing leather gloves studded with copper rivets thrust out its hands like a wizard casting a spell. Aeron didn't know what to expect, but instinct prompted him to hurl Nicos and himself to the ground. A dazzling white flare of lightning crackled over their heads. He rolled to one knee and tossed a dagger. His aim was too low, and the blade only pierced the orc's thigh. Still, the Red Axe faltered, gaping at the protruding hilt in seeming disbelief, as folk sometimes did when they took a wound.

  Maybe the orc would retire from the fight and take its magical gloves with it, but even if so, would it matter?

  Aeron was hurt, and it seemed as if Kesk had brought his entire band of cutthroats to the square.

  What was Sefris doing?

  If she was dead, or simply too busy with Kesk and the wizard to cast the spell Aeron was awaiting, he and Nicos were as good as dead.

  CHAPTER 17

  Following the burst of shadow, Sefris regarded Kesk and the wizard with cold satisfaction. Her ambuscade had taken them entirely by surprise, and they stood dazed and all but helpless. Only for a moment, but that gave her time for another spell, one with an excellent chance of killing them outright, or failing that, so crippling them that she'd have no trouble finishing them off with her hands. Then she'd help Aeron and Nicos escape the rest of the Red Axes, which would probably provide her the chance to slaughter a goodly number of them. Afterward, the lone-wolf thief would give her The Black Bouquet, and as soon as she had it, she'd complete her work by butchering him and the old man, too. In a world where everything was dung, and all prospect of pleasure bitter and hollow, it would nonetheless be about as rewarding an evening as a servant of Shar could wish for.

  She plucked a pellet of guano and sulfur from one of her pockets and swept it through a cabalistic pass, meanwhile whispering a rhyme. Ordinarily she much preferred spells of shadow and darkness to any that conjured fire, but she was pragmatist enough to use the most effective tool for the task at hand.

  A male voice, shrill with excitement, shouted, "Stop that!"

  She turned her head. One of the Gray Blades, a muscular young man who'd tried with scant success to grow a beard, had spotted her and pointed a crossbow in her direction. She'd thought Aeron an imbecile to conduct his business in the lawmen's vicinity, and there was the proof.

  As soon as he saw her face, the Gray Blade shot his quarrel. Something in her expression must have panicked him. She slapped the missile aside, but in so doing, spoiled her mystical gesturing and thus her spell.

  The young man's eyes widened in amazement when she deflected the bolt, but he was game. With a rasp of metal on metal, he pulled his broadsword from its scabbard and charged. She spun a chakram at him and caught him in the throat. He staggered two more steps, then fell.

  It had only taken a moment to deal with him. Yet she suspected it was a moment too long, and when she wheeled back around, it was clear that she was right. Kesk and the wizard had shaken off the effect of the shadow blast and scrambled out of the ragged bulb of darkness. The edges of his battle-axe shining red as magma, the tanarukk charged her. The magician wasn't doing much of anything yet. He didn't react as quickly as his partner, but given a chance, he'd start conjuring soon enough.

  She sidestepped, thus interposing Kesk between the wizard and herself, and snap-kicked at the gang chieftain's massive knob of
a knee. To her surprise, he managed to jerk his leg aside, and the ball of her foot only grazed him. The axe plunged at her, a powerful yet subtle stroke she had to spring backward to avoid.

  Kesk leered at her and said, "Did you think you were better than me, bitch? You surprised me the first time, but now I understand how you fight."

  Sefris did think she was his superior. She was confident she could defeat him and the wizard, too, but that alone wouldn't be good enough. She needed to do it fast, so she could proceed to the next part of the plan before Aeron and Nicos were overwhelmed. She launched herself at Kesk, attacking furiously, whirling, leaping, punching, and kicking.

  Despite his bravado, Kesk gave ground, chopping at her as he backed away. He was fighting defensively, playing for time. She landed her share of strikes even so, but his thick hide seemed to blunt the force of her blows. Meanwhile the wizard maneuvered at a safe distance from the melee, obviously trying to reach a position from which he could target her without fear of accidentally hitting the half-demon with his magic.

  She risked dividing her attention to rattle off an incantation and thrust her arm at the arcanist in his elf disguise. Jagged lances of darkness leaped from her palm to plunge into his chest without tearing his garments or breaking the skin. He reeled, but didn't fall, and his riposte came a moment later. Darts of blue light hurtled from his fingertips to pierce her own body in that same bloodless but still injurious manner. The cold pain was intense. Perhaps hoping the shock of the attack had paralyzed her, Kesk drove in hard, swinging the axe at her chest. She knocked it aside with both forearms, then followed up with a backhand strike that snapped one of his tusks and knocked him staggering backward.

  At that moment, he was vulnerable. She could have lunged after him and delivered the death blow, except that she felt a sort of charge in the air that could only be the wizard's power enfolding her. Her sorceress's intuition told her it was the same spell of sluggishness that had so hindered her before. She focused her will, resisting the magic, and felt it dissolve without catching hold of her. Unfortunately, that gave Kesk time to come back on guard.

  Precious seconds were racing by, and she still hadn't found the moment she needed to save Aeron. Her foes were pressing her too hard. She had to dispose of at least one of them without further delay, and unfortunately, she wasn't certain that any single attack at her disposal would suffice to cripple or kill.

  But maybe she could rid herself of the wizard another way. He didn't want folk to know who Kesk's partner was, and with luck, his nerves were still shaky from the shadow burst. It generally had such a lingering effect. Once again seeking to cast a spell and evade the relentless axe at the same time, dodging the deadly strokes by inches, she recited the incantation and swept her cestus-wrapped hand through the proper pattern.

  Just as when she'd negated the sluggishness, her magic broke the wizard's enchantment of disguise. The appearance of an elf wayfarer melted away, revealing a small man with a round-cheeked, boyish face, elegant silk and velvet clothes, and a long blackwood cane. He stared down at himself in astonishment, then pulled up a fold of his cloak to shield his face. He turned and ran. As Sefris had hoped, he truly was a wizard, which was to say, the kind of arcanist who needed to prepare his spells in advance. He didn't have another charm of illusion ready for the casting, and thus had no choice but to flee if he didn't want scores of onlookers to witness him fighting in concert with the Red Axes.

  "Curse you!" Kesk bellowed. "Come back!" He glared at Sefris. "It doesn't matter. I'll still ki-"

  She smashed a roundhouse kick into the side of his head, shattering some of his fangs and knocking him stumbling off balance. As she whirled with the attack, she spotted Nicos and Aeron. They hadn't made it very far toward the perimeter of the square, the idiot son had a bloody wound in his forearm, and the Red Axes were closing in. If she was to save them, it had to be right away.

  She spoke the words of power and made the proper gesture. As before, it only took an instant, yet once again, that was all the time Kesk needed to recover. When she pivoted back in his direction, the axe was already flashing at her body.

  Aeron hurled his last throwing knife and pierced a bugbear's chest. That left him only the largest Arthyn fang, the cudgel, and plenty of Red Axes still eager to spill his and Nicos's blood.

  His arm throbbing, he offered his father the club. The weapon wouldn't save Nicos, but Aeron knew he'd prefer to go down fighting. The old man reached for it, and the air around them swam and thickened, giving birth to dank coils of thick white mist. In a moment, Aeron could scarcely see past the end of his nose. Elsewhere in the vapor, the Red Axes called out in dismay.

  Ever since Nicos and Aeron had broken away from Kesk and the wizard, and despite the distracting business of struggling to stay alive, the younger thief had kept track of his position and orientation in the square, and the location of the objects in his vicinity. Thus he was still able to hurry his father along toward where he wanted him to go.

  The Red Axe with the filthy, tattooed hands appeared in the mist, almost seeming to materialize like a phantom. His javelins expended, he clutched a short sword.

  Lunging, he shouted, "They're here!"

  Aeron parried and thrust in his turn. The bravo hopped backward, out of range. Aeron knew he couldn't afford to linger and fence with the Red Axe, for fear that the wretch's initial outcry would draw other foes to the spot. He threw himself forward, risking a counterattack in order to close the distance.

  The reckless dive caught the tattooed man by surprise. Though he did attempt a stab, by then Aeron's Arthyn fang had already pierced his chest. The short sword slipped from spastic fingers, leaving the red-haired thief unscathed.

  Aeron had only sprinted two long strides, but when he turned back around, he was, to all appearances, alone.

  "Father!" he whispered.

  "Here," Nicos answered.

  Guided by the sound, Aeron scurried to the old man's side. He had to hope that, despite the interruption of having to fight the Red Axe, he hadn't lost his bearings. He led his father onward.

  Elsewhere in the mist, lightning crackled, the vapor diffusing the glare into a softer glow. Somebody screamed. Aeron hoped the victim was a Red Axe and not a non-combatant.

  The fugitives scrambled on for what felt like a long time, until Aeron was all but certain he'd lost his way. The trunk of an elm tree swam out of the fog. The bottommost branches hung low to the ground, and despite the season, still clung to most of their leaves.

  "Can you climb?" he asked.

  "A little, if I have to," Nicos said.

  Aeron grabbed him by the belt and lifted him upward.

  "And hide?" the rogue asked.

  Nicos gripped a limb, and grunting with effort, dragged himself higher, relieving Aeron of his weight.

  The old man said, "That should be no problem."

  "Then get above eye level and stay still until the Red Axes go home, no matter how long that takes. I don't think they'll find you as long as I draw their attention elsewhere, and without you slowing me down, I can get away."

  "Mask protect you," Nicos said.

  Aeron strode away. After a few moments, he stumbled on the spot where a tinker in a patched cloak had set up shop. The thief snatched up a copper pot awaiting repair and banged it with the pommel of his fighting knife.

  "We're here, you bastards!" he yelled. "Catch us if you can!"

  He dropped his makeshift gong and rushed onward.

  He wondered how Sefris was faring. Plainly, she'd still been alive when she finally conjured the fog as planned. Having performed that final service, the Red Axes were more than welcome to kill her. But actually, Aeron was sure it wasn't going to be that easy for him, just as he was certain that he and Nicos couldn't evade her for long. He had to dispose of her. He just hoped the last phase of his plan, the part she presumably knew nothing about, would do the job.

  He felt more than saw the imposing mass of Griffingate House before
him. He stalked along the side of the inn, heading for the alleyway where he was supposed to rendezvous with Sefris, and his luck deserted him again.

  Unable to see it in the blinding fog, the small wizard tripped over the guy line of a vendor's tent and fell heavily to the ground. Perhaps the impact knocked the panic out of him, for when he raised his head, he felt better able to think.

  Frightened or not, he still had no intention of letting half of Oeble witness him fighting in concert with the city's most infamous outlaws. He had to slip away, but before he did, perhaps he could cast a final spell to help his accomplices deal with Aeron sar Randal.

  He hoped that despite the disorienting turmoil of the past couple minutes, including the alarming discovery that Aeron and Sefris were working together, the Red Axes still meant to capture the lone-wolf thief, not kill him. Otherwise, they'd likely lose The Black Bouquet forever. Yet even if they did, it would be better than if it somehow reached its rightful owner, and the magician found that, rattled and frustrated as he was, he'd actually come around to Kesk's point of view. It was time to put an end to the business, and to the redheaded nuisance who'd so complicated it, in whatever way it could be accomplished.

  Plainly, Aeron and Nicos hoped to sneak away from the square under cover of the mist. If the small man could wash the muck from the air, perhaps Kesk's men could still catch them.

  He didn't know whether it was possible. Sefris had dispelled two of his enchantments, whereas he'd never tried to cancel one of hers. It was entirely possible she was the superior spellcaster, for after all, he was primarily a merchant. He simply studied thaumaturgy in private when he could find the time, to give himself a secret edge.