by Jon Sprunk
Ino spitted one through the stomach with his sword, and the thing writhed even as it pushed itself up the blade to grab the Isuranian with its long talons. Crossbow bolts tore into the things, but they kept coming regardless. Meghan dropped one with a bolt to the forehead before drawing her sword and moving to help Raste.
“The heads!” Three Moons shouted as he pawed through his fetish bag. “Take off their heads to stop them!”
But the Blades didn’t need the warning. They fought as a unit, pinning the creatures to the ground and splitting open their skulls. More eyeless fiends emerged near the mouth of the creek, but Niko and Jauna headed them off, cutting them down with their long knives. Captain Paranas waded into the brunt of the melee, warding off filthy claws with his shield as he chopped down foes one after another.
Three Moons watched as his comrades pushed the enemy back. His vantage allowed him to observe the creatures in better detail. They behaved much like the wights they had encountered in Omikur, even down to the way they moved and fought. He recalled what he’d seen when examining the bodies of the fallen fiends, and then he understood. Just like that little mole rat was the fleshy equivalent to the earth spirits back home, these things are the spirit version of the wights we found in Omikur.
Suddenly, a host of legends he had previously forgotten about took on a new meaning. Legends about the demons that inhabited the nether realm. They were said to be eaters of human flesh. Insatiable and unstoppable. And blind. In the old stories, the demons were described as blind but able to hunt with their supernatural senses. But how did they get into the physical realm?
More of the blind fiends appeared from the woods around the clearing. Even with their renewed zeal, Three Moons could see that the Blades would eventually be overrun if they stayed here. He shouted to be heard above the din. “We have to run! Follow the creek!”
Captain Paranas nodded. He grabbed Pollo and Pie-Eye, then sent them to join Niko and Jauna, and the four of them grabbed their clothes and armor before they charged along the water’s bank. The rest followed in a semi-orderly manner. Three Moons kept to the middle of the pack. He marveled at his ability to keep up. It was as if he had shed twenty years. The rush of the blood through his veins was intoxicating. At the same time, all his senses were thrown wide open. He saw colors and details all around with amazing clarity. He heard his brothers and sisters breathing hard as they ran. He felt the tremors of their footfalls as they retreated from the pool. What was happening?
Ino ran beside him, his injured leg forgotten. The big man gave him a grim smile, revealing silver teeth.
It must be that strange water. It’s changing us somehow. It might be killing us, for all I know. But it may also be what keeps us alive.
More pale-skinned fiends emerged from the brush but only in small numbers now. The Blades cut them down without breaking stride. The company moved almost at a full sprint.
Captain Paranas met his eye. Three Moons could see their commander wanted some good news, but he merely shrugged back, having none to offer. Maybe we would have been better off back in the desert.
With a grimace, the captain ran ahead to the front of the company, leaving Three Moons to wonder how long they could keep running.
CHAPTER TEN
Years ago, when the Nemedia intelligence service prepared her to infiltrate Akeshia and plunder its secrets, Alyra had been faced with an interesting challenge. Namely, how to blend in with a people of darker complexion so seamlessly that she could move among them unnoticed. Her blond hair and pale skin were hard to miss.
In Erugash, the network had gotten past the problem by inserting her into the queen’s palace where her exotic features made her a favored pet. But that gambit wouldn’t work here in Thuum. Or would it?
She and Natefi had spent all night discussing various possible ways to get her connected to the local power structure. Included in their ideas had been one to color her hair and skin with pigments. Beyond the difficulty in dyeing skin in a realistic way, Alyra had no way to color her blue eyes. She could try to pass herself off as a child of mixed parentage, but that would also raise suspicions. Blended-race children rarely rose above the lowest castes, and that would limit her chances to enter the homes of the elite.
In the end, Alyra decided against disguising herself. It was too problematic, and there were no easy excuses if her ruse was discovered. Instead, she would embrace her differences. She and Natefi spent the day grooming her for a grand performance. She oiled her hair until it shimmered and piled it high atop her head in a coiled braid. She applied kohl around her eyes and colored her lips bright red. Finally, she put on a dress Natefi’s mother-in-law made from a beautiful sapphire-blue fabric they found in the neighborhood market. Gold-plated earrings and necklace completed the ensemble.
Looking into a small brass mirror while touching up her hair, Alyra had to admit she would definitely stand out.
“You look lovely,” Natefi said as she returned to the back bedroom of the tiny home where Alyra was getting ready. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Alyra turned with practiced ease, enjoying the slim lines of the dress. “Except to thank you. And your mother-in-law. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Natefi clucked her tongue. “We’re happy to help. Anyway, you have the most difficult job. I honestly don’t know how you do it. I would be petrified down to my toes.”
Alyra gave a confident smile she didn’t entirely feel. “I’ll be all right. Now, don’t panic if I’m not back until morning. These things have a tendency to last all night.”
“Please be careful, Alyra.”
“I will. Wish me well.”
Natefi closed her eyes and whispered something. When she opened her eyes again, she said, “There. You’ll be fine.”
Natefi wrapped a long cloak around Alyra’s shoulders and ushered her to the front door.
It was an hour past sunset, and the street was quiet. Gurita and Jin waited outside the yard gate. They had undergone a transformation, too. Instead of dingy, mismatched armor, the men wore chitons of the same blue cloth as Alyra’s dress. Their sword belts and weapon sheaths were still a little battered despite a thorough polishing, but they would pass muster. The biggest change was with the men themselves. Alyra had never seen either of them freshly bathed and shaven. They were rather handsome. Maybe we’ll pull this off after all.
Gurita gave her a solemn nod before he took the lead, striding down the street with one hand on the pommel of his sword. Jin followed behind her. As they marched through the dark avenues, Alyra reviewed her plan. It wasn’t much of a scheme, she had to admit. Natefi had discovered a fete hosted by a member of the royal court. The king wouldn’t be in attendance, but still it was a chance to insinuate herself into the upper layers of Thuum society. If she could get inside. There hadn’t been any way for them to get an invitation, so Alyra was forced to rely on her natural talents. If she failed . . . Don’t think about that. Think of success. You can do this.
Bolstering her confidence, Alyra remained lost in her own thoughts until they reached the gates of a large estate in the eastern quarter of the city. The manor house was huge, its tiered triple rooftop and many minarets jutting above the high walls. Cheery flames danced in the windows, making the mansion look as if it were burning on the inside. She wished she could have afforded a proper carriage for her arrival, but her funds were limited. In fact, after buying the fabric for the dress, costume jewelry, and makeup, she was almost broke. This plan needed to work.
A quartet of sentries in silvery mail and tall gleaming helms stood outside the gates. A footman in orange livery came forward as Alyra’s party approached. She had prepared a lengthy excuse for why she didn’t have an invitation. She started to deliver it until the footman gave a deep bow and said, “Welcome, my lady. May I announce your arrival?”
“Uh, yes, please.”
She gave him her name as he walked her inside the gates. Her tru
e name. She had decided that was her best ploy, to tell the truth . . . up to a point. Her story was that she had fled Erugash during the attack and come to Thuum seeking protection. She had prepared some harrowing tales of peril in case she was pressed for details.
They entered a large courtyard bordered by rows of tall shade trees on either side and the manor’s façade straight ahead. A group of thirty or forty men in decorative armor stood about the court, talking and drinking from wooden cups.
“Pardon, my lady,” the footman said. “But your escorts must remain here.”
“Of course.”
Alyra turned to her guards. “Keep your ears open,” she whispered. “If you hear screams, get out of here fast.”
“If there’s screams,” Gurita said with a frown, “we’ll be coming to fetch you right quick.”
Not wanting to get into an argument with her “servants,” Alyra gave the men a tight-lipped smile and followed the footman. They passed through an arched arbor between the trees and followed a path of polished stones to a grand garden. Elegant beds of flowers of every type and color filled the grounds, divided by a network of tiny streams and stone bridges. The air was filled with the heady scent of a hundred thousand blossoms. Glowing lights floated above the garden on invisible tethers of sorcery, lending the entire scene a ghostly aura.
As amazing as the grounds were, they appeared almost plain compared to the finery of the guests. Noblemen and noblewomen dripping with wealth sauntered about. Most of the men wore long robes heavy with precious metal stitching. The women were more extravagant in their breezy dresses of silk and lace, festooned with gold and shining jewels. A trio of musicians played softly over the murmuring conversations.
Putting on her most alluring smile, Alyra strolled into the garden. The footman bellowed behind her, “Lady Alyra Delrosa of Erugash!”
Heads turned to view her entrance. Alyra’s step didn’t falter, although her insides stirred at the sudden attention. Her decision to mention Erugash in her introduction was tactical. The city’s fall would surely be a topic of conversation here. She had chosen to use Horace’s last name because . . . well, because it felt right. She was playing a part, after all. Why not play it to the hilt?
Her target was none other than the host of this lavish party. Lord Hunzuu et’Allamur was old nobility, able to trace his ancestry back to the early days of the empire. It made for romantic speculation, if you were Akeshian nobility, but Alyra was mainly interested in his close ties to the royal court here in Thuum. Lord Hunzuu was one of King Ugurnazir’s oldest friends and closest advisers. If anyone had information she could use, it would be him. Also, he was said to have a penchant for younger ladies. Tugging down her neckline, she headed toward the largest grouping of nobles.
Slaves approached, offering all manner of delicacies on silver trays. Alyra declined them all except for some wine from Lord Hunzuu’s private vineyard. Glass in hand, she searched for the venerable host among the array of gilded guests.
After walking past several groups, all of which watched her intently and then erupted into whispers as she passed by, Alyra found her target. Lord Hunzuu was even older than Natefi had described, looking at least seventy, though he carried it well. He was also quite short, with a bald pate and deep wrinkles. A cluster of elders surrounded him at a respectful distance, but it was the man talking to the old lord who made Alyra stop in her tracks.
From just a casual glance, he seemed to fit in with this crowd. He was in his middle years with patrician features. His robes were of the finest quality, his hair oiled and coiffed, but there was something about him that made Alyra suspicious. Maybe it was the way he stood, leaning too close to the old lord as if pressing him on an important matter. Lord Hunzuu nodded occasionally as if agreeing with his companion.
Alyra circled around the men, trying to overhear their conversation, but they were talking too low. She noticed another older man admiring her. By his dress, he was of the hekatatum military caste. Perhaps a retired general. She gave him a bright smile as she strolled closer, pulling him in with her eyes.
“My dear, you are simply radiant this evening,” he said in a voice that was smoother than she had anticipated. “By your hair, you would seem to be a child of the sun. But I think you may be more suited to nocturnal pursuits, eh?”
Not the worst tactic a man had ever used on her. “Thank you, Lord . . . ?”
“Not a lord,” he corrected with a slight wave of his right hand. “I am Mohar Dhaberi. Kapikul of His Majesty’s First Heavy Lancers. Retired.”
“I am Alyra.”
“So I heard. You made quite the entrance. I admit I couldn’t take my eyes off you since you arrived.”
Alyra allowed him to kiss her hand and draw her closer. He raised his glass, and they clinked the rims together. “Tell me,” she said, turning to face their host again. “Who is that man talking to Lord Hunzuu? I’ve never seen him before.”
“Ahem. That, my dear, is the envoy.”
She allowed her eyebrows to lift a fraction of an inch.
“He arrived yesterday,” the kapikul confided. “Or was it the day before? In any case, he claims to have come to Thuum with a message from the new king of Erugash.”
Alyra almost choked on the wine she’d been sipping. Kapikul Mohar patted her gently on the back and took the opportunity to run a hand down to the top of her posterior. “Now, now, dear. Don’t take a fright. You are well protected here, believe me.”
“Of course.” Alyra recovered by pretending to look relieved. “Thank you, Mohar. What message does the stranger carry?”
“Who can say? They say he will only divulge it to our king, but the king will not see him. Perhaps that is why he hovers so close to Hunzuu, eh?”
Perhaps, indeed. It took Alyra a few minutes to extricate herself from the officer, and he only let her go after she promised to find him later in the evening. She gravitated toward Lord Hunzuu’s entourage, pretending to admire the flowers as she wandered closer. She was surprised to see an envoy of the Manalish out in public, but she understood the nobles of Thuum would want to be cautious. This was like finding a serpent in your home. You wanted it gone, but you also needed to take care it didn’t bite you before you cut off its head. She wondered how long King Ugurnazir could keep him at bay.
Alyra saw that Lord Hunzuu was finally alone. She started in his direction, but stopped abruptly when she almost ran into a tall man. She felt the blood leave her face as she recognized the mysterious envoy standing right in front of her. “Pardon me, my lord. I didn’t see you.”
She raised her gaze to his eyes and couldn’t entirely suppress the shudder that ran through her. Though he had a kind face, there was a haunted look in his eyes. A chill ran through the warm night air.
“I have not had the pleasure of meeting you.” The envoy extended his hand. “I am Pumash, lately of Nisus. If I heard correctly, you are from Erugash.”
“Yes, I am. At least, I was.”
Alyra kept her answer vague. This was a man she didn’t want knowing too much about her. Suddenly, she regretted coming here tonight.
“Forgive my rudeness, but you are clearly not a native Akeshai.”
“I was born on Thym. I was taken captive when the empire seized control of the island.”
“Ah. And I sense the story of how you escaped bondage to rise to the cream of society must be quite epic. However it must wait for another time. Forgive me again, but I must take my leave. I sincerely hope we meet again so I can better make your acquaintance.”
Alyra couldn’t tell if he was flirting or toying with her, so she mumbled something about how nice it was to meet him. She didn’t get back complete control of her nerves until he swept past, heading for the garden’s exit where he met an older man—clearly a servant, judging by his mean garments. They left the party together.
Alyra watched them go. Get hold of yourself! It’s over, and you have work to do.
She had only taken two steps, though,
before she almost ran into her target. Lord Hunzuu was even shorter up close. Alyra was glad she hadn’t worn taller heels. “My lord!”
“Aren’t you just enchanting, Lady . . . ?”
“Alyra, my lord.” She bowed her head.
“Well, Alyra. There are many lovely bouquets here tonight, but you outshine them all.”
“My lord is too kind.”
She kept her eyes lowered as she spoke, playing the part of a flustered ingénue. He took her hand and led her on a slow walk through the garden. The musicians played a more festive tune. A group of ladies deep in their drinks started to do a temple dance, laughing as they stumbled into each other.
Lord Hunzuu summoned a slave who provided them with fresh drinks. Alyra pretended to take a sip. “You have a lovely home, my lord.”
“Thank you. It was built by my grandfather, the fourteenth lord of House Allamur. Would you like a tour of the grounds?”
Alyra allowed her hip to brush against his side. “I’d rather have a look inside.” She looked down at her feet and pretended to recover her shyness. “My lord.”
With a predatory grin, Hunzuu led her around to one of the manor’s side entrances. A pair of guards came with them. Once inside, Lord Hunzuu released her hand and stepped back. “Forgive this intrusion, Alyra. One learns precaution when reaching a certain age and station.”
The guards came forward and searched her person. They were swift and professional, patting her down from torso to the edge of her skirt. Alyra kept her thighs pressed tightly together and pretended to be frightened. She even managed to make her eyes water slightly.
When it was over, the guards stepped back, and Lord Hunzuu hurried to take her hand once more. “Now, now. It’s over, and we can continue our tour. That will make you happy, yes?”
