In the Claws of the Tiger

by James Wyatt

  Janik could not hear the name of that place without Maija’s face forcing its way into his thoughts—the delight she had taken in Janik’s success, and then the utter contempt she had worn as she handed the Ramethene Sword to Krael. His eyes flicked over all the attendants again, his thoughts a jumble of questions.

  “Yeah, I discovered Mel-Aqat. Found it, fought over it, came back alive. I’m not eager to go back there, if that’s what this is about.”

  “It will be worth your while to return there.” The Keeper of the Flame spoke this time, her first words since she issued her welcome. Her eyes rested on Janik but they seemed out of focus, almost glazed over. Her hand had ceased its restless wandering over the arm of her chair.

  Here we go—now for the bribes, Janik thought. Somehow, it was a comfort to know that the Church of the Silver Flame was just like any other government or organization. It’s always about money, even when you dress it up in vestments.

  “Don’t waste your breath,” he snorted. “There’s not enough money in the world.”

  The girl seemed not to hear him, and Janik suddenly noticed that all the attendants had shifted their attention to the Keeper, looks of surprise and—was that reverence?—on their faces. Even the beast at the foot of the throne was staring at her.

  “What you have lost lies still in those ruins, still within your grasp.” Her eyes regained their focus and fixed on his, riveting his attention. “The Silver Flame calls you there.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, drawn in by her mysterious tone. Then he looked away, shaking his head.

  I have to admit, this girl is good, Janik thought. Whoever holds her strings picked a perfect puppet—she says her lines with feeling.

  He met the Keeper’s gaze again. “No,” he said. “I’d sooner die than return to Mel-Aqat.”

  He spun on his heel and stormed out of the chamber.

  The same knight still waited for Janik, and escorted him to his quarters in the palace. He slammed the door to his suite right in the knight’s face, then stalked to a divan and threw himself down.

  Mathas sat on a chair facing Janik, a heavy book opened on his lap. The elf’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead, but he waited patiently for Janik to speak. It was a long wait.

  At last, Janik vented some of his churning anger with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, old friend,” he said, shaking his head in frustration.

  “I hardly consider time spent in your company after all these years a waste,” Mathas replied gently. “What happened?”

  “They want me to go back to Mel-Aqat.”

  “Why?”

  “We didn’t get that far. They promised to make it worth my while, but I told them to forget it and I walked out. I’m not going back there. There’s no way.” He leaned back on the cushions, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.

  Mathas nodded slowly, his eyes focused somewhere over Janik’s shoulder. “And Dania?”

  “She wasn’t there.”

  “Ah.” They sat in silence for many moments.

  “Well,” Mathas said finally, gesturing at two doors behind him. “There are beds in those rooms. I think I’m going to see how comfortable they are, and determine whether the Cathedral’s hospitality truly knows no bounds.”

  “Sleep well, Mathas.” Janik didn’t shift his gaze from the ceiling.

  “I don’t sleep.” The elf seemed older than Janik remembered as he rose slowly to his feet and shuffled into the other room.

  What am I doing here? Janik fumed, not sure why he was so angry. I came because I wanted to see Dania. So the Keeper of the Flame tries to buy my services—why not? It’s a job, right? But no, not Mel-Aqat. Nothing could get me back there. Not even Dania.

  He pulled Dania’s letter out of his coat again, carefully unfolding it for the hundredth time. “I urge you to come to Thrane and hear what the Keeper of the Flame has to say.”

  “All right, Dania,” he muttered, “I came to Thrane. I heard the Keeper’s little speech. Where are you?”

  His eyes closed. His thoughts still raging through his mind, he fell into a fitful sleep.

  He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when a gentle knock at the door roused him. From where he sat, he could see light pouring in the windows of the empty bedroom. Janik stumbled groggily to the door and threw it open. The smiling blond knight stood there. Beside her, a man in a servant’s uniform steered a cart laden with food. Janik stepped aside as the servant wheeled the cart into the room.

  “I hope you find your rooms acceptable,” the knight said. Janik grunted and managed a half smile. “We invite you to enjoy the hospitality of the Cathedral as long as you wish. My name is Tierese, and your comfort is in my charge.”

  “Thank you.” Janik was confused. He had dreamt of Maija again, and Tierese’s smiling face reminded him of her.

  “If you would be gracious enough to return to the Cathedral in the morning, your presence would be appreciated.”

  Ah, the Cathedral, he thought. Dream and reality became more distinct in Janik’s mind. “All right,” he said, “I’ll hear the Keeper one more time.”

  “I am pleased to hear it.” Tierese’s smile was unwavering, and Janik began to distrust it. “After breakfast tomorrow, I will escort you to your audience.” She gave a small bow, which Janik returned.

  “Thank you,” Janik said again, feeling stupid and still quite groggy. Tierese turned and left, and the servant hustled after her, leaving a fine lunch spread on the table in the suite’s outer room. Janik closed and bolted the door, then stumbled into the vacant bedroom. He threw himself down on the bed and fell at once into a much deeper sleep, leaving the food untouched.

  SECOND REUNION

  CHAPTER 4

  Janik awoke with a much clearer head and made his way to the main room of the suite. Mathas had returned to his chair and his weighty tome, which was draped over his lap. An empty plate lay on a side table beside the elf, and plenty of food remained spread on the larger table.

  Mathas looked up and smiled as Janik emerged. “A day on an airship is like two on the ground,” he said. “Traveling always exhausts me.”

  Janik laughed. “It wasn’t that long ago you spent a year traveling to Mel-Aqat and back.” He sat on the edge of the chair facing his friend and started loading a plate for himself.

  “And a year in the wilderness is like ten in the city. No wonder I feel so old.”

  “No wonder.” Janik bit into a ripe plum, then dabbed his chin with a white napkin. “I’ve been summoned back to the Cathedral tomorrow.”

  “Of course you have. They served us lunch.”

  Janik smiled. “Rather than turning us out on the street? You’re right. Apparently whoever is behind this isn’t going to give up that easily.”

  “And who is behind this? Did you get any sense of that?”

  “It’s hard to say.” Janik took another bite of his plum and continued with his mouth full. “The Keeper had six attendants who did most of the talking.” He swallowed. “Four of them spoke, and none said more than a sentence or two. I couldn’t tell whether one of them was pulling the strings.” He stared thoughtfully at the wall and took another bite of his plum.

  “Well,” Mathas said, “while you were there, I learned a little more about the government of Thrane. The girl has mostly abdicated control of the government to a Council of Cardinals, and she concerns herself primarily with the spiritual well-being of the people.”

  “Interesting,” Janik said. “I don’t think I was dealing with Cardinals.”

  “No, I’m sure you would know if you had been.”

  “But if they’re the ones really running the country, why wasn’t I talking to them?”

  “Perhaps this isn’t the kind of job you thought it was.” Mathas watched Janik consider this for a moment. “Did the Keeper speak at all?”

  “She spoke first, just welcoming me here. Then when she spoke again, all the attendants looked su
rprised, like she had strayed from the script.” He poured himself a glass of wine. “Probably played trump too early.”

  “Trump?”

  “Oh, she was good. She pulled almost a prophetic vision thing—had me going for a moment.”

  Mathas leaned forward with interest. “What did she say?”

  “Something like, ‘What you have lost is still in those ruins.’ And then, ‘The Silver Flame calls you there.’ Trying to make it sound like this job’s divinely ordained, and hoping to make it personal.”

  “What have you lost, Janik?”

  “Oh, don’t you start now! I work for money, not out of some quest for personal fulfillment. I don’t care what this one pays. I’m not going back there.”

  “It seems to me you’ve lost a great deal, then.” Mathas’s voice was quiet, in contrast to Janik’s outburst.

  “Yes, I have.” Janik stood. “I’ve lost the woman I loved and one of my best friends. I’ve lost any belief I used to have that the universe was a just and fair place ruled by a Host that cares about such things. I’ve lost my passion for my work, my thirst to learn more about the ancient civilizations of Xen’drik. I’ve lost everything that matters to me. But I’ve been to Mel-Aqat and I know what’s there, and I’m not going to find those things there.” He stormed to the door, grabbing his coat from a nearby chair.

  “Where are you going?” Mathas asked.

  “I need to walk, clear my head,” Janik said. He threw the door open. The knight Tierese was there, a respectful distance away. He called to her. “Am I allowed to go into the city and look around?”

  “Of course,” the knight replied. “If you would like, I can arrange a carriage for you.”

  Janik stepped out of the room, then looked back at Mathas. “I’m sorry I lost my temper, Mathas,” he said, then pulled the door closed behind him and addressed Tierese. “Thank you. That won’t be necessary.” He swept past the knight and stalked down the hall toward the stairs.

  “An escort?” Tierese said to his back. “Flamekeep is quite safe, but to be sure …”

  “No.” He sped down the steps, out of the palace, and into the city beyond.

  Janik walked for over an hour, but saw very little of the city. He drifted along the jumbled streets, oblivious to the autumn chill, too lost in his thoughts to notice the architecture, the statuary, the murals, and especially the people.

  Not noticing the people of Flamekeep, he also didn’t notice the distinct lack of people when he turned down a narrow street. He was only vaguely aware of the buildings standing more closely together, forming a narrow canyon that blocked the sun, shrouded in shadow. Something about the sound of footsteps behind him, though, triggered his combat reflexes, and he snapped out of his reverie and spun around, his short sword springing to his hand.

  It was a warforged holding a gold-traced adamantine sword—no, it was the warforged, the same one that had attacked Janik on the airship to Aundair. It had tried to creep up behind Janik quietly, and looked surprised as Janik spun to meet his approach. As Janik settled into a combat stance, though, he heard someone running up behind him as well, and he knew he was in for a tough fight.

  “You again,” he muttered. He stepped sideways, trying to bring both opponents into his line of sight. The warforged stood warily, almost close enough to strike, and Janik risked a quick glance around him.

  His other assailant was a woman, apparently human, wearing a hood that covered her face. Her armor shone beneath a black cloak, and she carried a heavy bastard sword. In her left hand, she held a battered shield that contrasted sharply with her well-kept armor and sword.

  As the woman reached him, the warforged closed the distance and both assailants moved to attack at once. Janik decided that being flanked by them was not a place he wanted to be, and he dove toward the feet of the warforged. The adamantine sword swung over his head as he rolled on the ground and sprang up behind the warforged and out of reach, spinning to face his attackers.

  “What is this about?” he said, already starting to breathe hard from the exertion. “If Krael’s trying to make sure I don’t go back to Mel-Aqat, he needn’t worry—it’ll take more than the Keeper’s gold to send me back there.”

  “What makes you think Krael sent me this time, Martell?” the warforged said. Again Janik could hear the mocking smile in his voice behind the utterly emotionless face. “Maybe I’m just angry about a fall from an airship.”

  The woman gave the warforged a sidelong glance, and Janik thought for a moment that he recognized her eyes.

  “You jumped!” Janik blurted out as both assailants rushed him again. His sword blocked the adamantine weapon as the warforged swung it toward his head. The powerful blade bit into Janik’s sword and stuck for a moment. As the warforged struggled to pull his weapon free, Janik twisted his own sword, trying to pull the hilt out of his opponent’s grasp. At the same time, he kicked in a high arc to knock the woman’s sword arm away as she swung in under his defenses.

  How am I going to get out of this? he thought, trying to remember the lay of the streets around him, mentally searching for possible escape routes.

  The warforged yanked his sword free and stumbled backward a step. The woman edged around Janik’s left flank.

  “You’re right, Martell,” the warforged said. “Krael sent us.”

  “Evidently he no longer trusts you to get the job done alone,” Janik said. “Of course, he’d never face me with less than a dozen soldiers between us.”

  “Maybe I just wanted to come along to watch you die,” the woman said. Janik could see the smile in her eyes and suddenly realized where he had seen them before.

  “Ah, Tierese,” he said, backing away so she couldn’t maneuver behind him. “I knew there was a reason I hated your smile.”

  “Damn you to the Outer Darkness, Janik Martell,” Tierese said. She glanced at the warforged. “He really has to die now, Sever. If he escapes …”

  The warforged roared and charged, his blade slashing down to cut into Janik. At the same time, Tierese rushed him from the other side. Janik spotted his only chance to escape. He stepped toward Tierese and ducked under her swing as she tried to compensate for his new position. He crouched and reached for her legs. She slammed into him hard, but he used her momentum to propel her over his shoulder and into the warforged. Both of his opponents sprawled on the cobblestones, and Janik took off running as fast as he could, the same way he had come.

  He did not look back. He heard their shouts of fury behind him and heard them scrambling to their feet, then running after him. Janik knew their heavy armor would slow them. With his head start, he would be safe as long as he kept running. In moments, the jangling of armor faded behind him and he knew he had lost them, but he didn’t slow his pace. He spotted the Cathedral rising high above the rest of the city, making it easy to find.

  He finally slowed to a walk as he approached the door of the palace. He worried that Tierese’s participation in this assault spelled danger at the palace, but the knights at the gate let him pass without a word. He made his way back to the suite he shared with Mathas, where no knight stood watch. Still breathing hard from his exertion, he flung open the door and stormed in.

  Mathas sat on the divan with his book, leaning back with one arm stretched across the tops of the cushions.

  “What kind of twisted nest of vipers has Dania drawn us into?” Janik growled, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it on a chair—atop another coat. He paused for an instant, then spun around to see a half-elf woman leaning against the wall behind him. She pushed a strand of red hair off her face and folded her arms.

  “Dania!” Janik blurted.

  “Hello, Janik,” she replied. “What nest of vipers are you talking about?”

  “Krael Kavarat.” Janik spat the name. “He sent an assassin after me on the airship to Aundair—clearly he knew what your Keeper wanted from me before I did. And I just met the assassin again, in the company of one of your Knights of Thra
ne. Which would explain Krael’s source of information.”

  Mathas and Dania were speechless.

  “What is going on here, Dania? And what are you doing here?” Janik looked her up and down. “You’re dressed like a Knight of Thrane—right down to the Silver Flame around your neck! I suppose Tierese is a friend of yours, smiling to your face while feeding news to Krael?”

  “I should have known you’d come in here throwing blame around at everybody but yourself, Janik Martell,” Dania said. “This isn’t some conspiracy to make your life miserable.”

  “No, just a conspiracy to get me killed, courtesy of Krael Kavarat.”

  “Well, Krael’s done his level best to kill me, too, while you’ve been hiding at Morgrave University. Welcome back to the front lines! It’s about time you came out of your rabbit hole and started fighting again!”

  “Rabbit hole? Hey, the war’s over, Dania. Are you having trouble accepting that? Is that why you’ve put on the armor of a Knight of Thrane? So you can keep fighting the war?”

  “I’m not a Knight of Thrane, Janik. I’m a paladin of the Silver Flame.”

  “A paladin?” Janik’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “So that’s it. Now you’ve got what the Last War could never give you—right and wrong. You think you’re on the side of good and virtue now, is that it? And because you’ve chosen sides, I need to come out of a comfortable retirement and fight evil with you? So how do you explain an Emerald Claw spy in the Cathedral? How can you fight evil when you can’t see it in front of your face?”

  “This isn’t about the Last War, Janik—you’re right, it’s over. And there’s greater evil in the world than Emerald Claw spies. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? As far as you can tell, evil is what hurts you, and good is what you like. Get your head out of the sand! It’s bigger than you! And—” She broke off suddenly and turned to face Mathas, inhaling slowly.

  “Why don’t you sit down and join us, Janik?” Mathas said. Dania let out her breath and sank into the seat facing Mathas, her hand at her throat, touching the Silver Flame pendant that hung there. Janik turned his back on them both, crossing the room to a small table and pouring himself a glass of water from a pitcher. Uneasy silence settled over the room.