Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

by David Dalglish

  Aaron sniffed and rubbed his nose against his sleeve.

  “What should I do?”

  Robert handed him the amulet. The boy took it as if it might burn him. His eyes were wide as he traced a finger over the gold.

  “Pray, Aaron. Pray for anything and everything. We live in a harsh world. One day your father will place you at the edge of a cliff. I’ve heard the stories about you. I know you killed your brother when you were but a child. You can jump down that ravine, or you can stand tall and refuse him.”

  “I know what happens to people who refuse my father,” Aaron said. “They die.”

  Robert smiled.

  “We all die, son. The question is, who are we when we do?”

  Aaron lifted the amulet before his eyes.

  “Everything good about mankind?” he asked.

  “Everything we wish we were and most often fail to be, Aaron,” said Robert.

  But he wasn’t Aaron anymore, not then.

  He put the amulet in his pocket, where his father wouldn’t see it. When he turned to leave, he paused, then glanced back at his teacher.

  “Do you pray to Ashhur?” he asked.

  Robert sighed.

  “I know I should not answer,” he said. “But what I have said is already enough for your father to kill me. Yes, I pray to him, Aaron, though not as much as I should. And nothing like I did when I was younger. The world is harsh, Aaron. Sometimes it seems like Ashhur isn’t even listening.”

  He thought of the girl, pleading to Ashhur to give back her father. The hurt in Robert’s eyes was so plain, Aaron wondered whom he had prayed for Ashhur to send back.

  How cruel a world, thought the boy as he left Robert’s room, a plan forming in his mind. But I won’t be its cruelty.

  Not anymore.

  He searched the entire compound. Dustin was nowhere to be found. Holding in a curse, Aaron went looking for Kayla. He found her in the mess hall, eating with several men. His mind raced, trying to think of a way to talk to her without letting it be obvious. If anyone might help him in protecting the girl, it’d be her.

  Summoning his courage, he walked straight up to her. If there was no subtle way, then being brazen about it would be less likely to draw attention than some half-assed secret communication.

  “Kayla,” he said, feeling the eyes of the others on him. No matter where he went, he was Thren’s son, and the thieves acted like a word from him might be their deaths. It might have been true, but it still made him feel uncomfortable. Of course, any attention made him feel uncomfortable. He preferred the corners and the shadows, not front and center.

  “Yes, Aaron?” she asked.

  He felt even more awkward with Kayla looking at him. He kept thinking how pretty she was. It didn’t help that with her leaning toward him, he had a nice view down her shirt.

  “I need to find someone,” he said. Kayla shrugged and stood from the table, having already finished eating. A couple of others mocked her for leaving a glass full of beer, but another cheerfully volunteered to finish it for her. When they were far enough away, Aaron blurted everything out at once.

  “I need to find Dustin,” he said. “The one you fetched for my father.”

  “Dare I ask why?”

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  Kayla held her surprise well.

  “Again … dare I ask why?”

  They were at the door to the mess hall. Aaron waited until she pushed open the door, then used its creak to help hide his voice.

  “Because he’ll kill her,” he said.

  Kayla opened her mouth to ask a question, then closed it, having figured out the answer.

  “Shit,” she said. “You’re out of your mind. He’s a pro, Aaron.”

  She led him down the hall. In the quiet their voices seemed more ominous, their whispers carrying far. Kayla led them to her room as quickly as possible.

  “You can’t,” she said once she shut the door. “You don’t even know her name. You’re throwing your life away, don’t you understand?”

  Aaron clenched his fingers around the medallion through the fabric of his pants.

  Everything good about mankind, Aaron thought. Everything good about me.

  “I have to try,” he said. “Please, tell me where he went.”

  Kayla bit her lip and stared at him.

  “Fuck it,” she said. “I joined this guild for a fearsome reputation and a bloated amount of coin. So far I’ve rescued an old man from prison and murdered a helpless priest. It’s not like I can do any worse. I risk my own life telling you, you do know that, right?”

  Aaron blushed, realizing how stupid he was not to have thought everything through.

  “I can’t,” he said, turning to leave. “I can’t risk your life, not for me, not for her.”

  “Aaron,” she said, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around. She smiled at him, even as her lips trembled with fear. “I researched the Eschatons before the job in what little time I had. Delius was a noble who turned to the priesthood only a few years back. He has a mansion in the western district. It’s sparsely furnished and poorly staffed. He gave away much of his wealth to the temple. The girl might be there, or she might be in the temple. If she’s in the temple, you haven’t a prayer of getting to her. Either way, that mansion is the first place Dustin will look.”

  “Thank you,” Aaron said.

  Kayla gave him directions to the mansion, as well as a brief description of what it looked like from the outside.

  “Dustin’s started ahead of you,” Kayla said. “But he’ll need to ask around first to find out where they live. You might be able to beat him there. Hurry out, and try to be back before sunrise.”

  Aaron hurried to the door, and he heard Kayla’s voice call out after him.

  “And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t let anyone see you!”

  CHAPTER

  18

  Aaron felt oddly exhilarated. He’d never been out at night on his own. Thren had always insisted someone accompany him on his rare excursions out of the complex. Usually the reasons involved safety, the Trifect, and rival guilds wanting to settle a million old grudges. More and more, though, Aaron decided his father wanted to keep him from having a taste of freedom.

  He ran along the rooftops. With so many nearby logging towns, especially those on the northern edges of the King’s Forest, the houses were built sturdy, tall, and with mostly flat roofs. The wood and plaster easily held him. He landed as softly as he could, but he also ran fast. Bits of gray cloth trailed in the air behind him, the ties to the mask that covered his entire face. Only his blue eyes were visible.

  As he neared the western district, the going got rougher. The west was far from the wealthiest of districts, but every part of the city had its betters, and they always clumped themselves together. As the buildings grew fancier, the roofs grew more slanted, with multiple floors, odd decorations and stone creatures, as well as the sharp triangular rooftops that had been fashionable at some point. Instead of racing along, he leaped and climbed. Sweat poured across his skin, the air was devilishly cold, but through it all Aaron smiled.

  I’m Haern now, he thought. I’m free. Haern is powerful. Haern can rebel.

  It was strange thinking like that, but it made sense somehow. Let Aaron be shy. Let Aaron cower before his father and steal as ordered. Haern would hide, and he would survive. And tonight Haern would kill, but unlike Aaron he’d do it for good. He knew just enough about sex to know that whatever Dustin planned to do, it’d be horrific torture before he actually killed the girl. He couldn’t let her go through that, especially knowing it’d be his fault. His cowardice, his inability to lie to his father to protect her.

  At last he found the mansion. He was atop an even larger home on the opposite side of the street, his arms wrapped around a stone statue of what looked like a deer crossed with a man. His fingers drummed against the antlers. Despite the darkness, he could see far. The moon was bright, the clouds onl
y wispy ghost fingers stretching across the sky.

  There was no sign of anything amiss. No windows were broken, the door was shut tight, and he saw no shadows skulking around the sides. Of course, based on what Kayla had said, he had to assume that Dustin would be a bit more subtle than to just walk up to the front door and kick it in.

  If the girl was there, she most likely wasn’t alone. Or she could be in the temple of Ashhur. Sitting there across the street, there were a million things Aaron didn’t know, and he’d find out none of them from his current perch. Tapping his dagger to give himself courage, he climbed down and approached the mansion.

  The place lacked the security of higher wealth. No worn paths circled the building from a patrol of guards. No fence surrounded it, and no dogs prowled about. Many times Senke had led him to various estates, pointed out weaknesses, and made him sneak in when the night was young. He never had to steal anything valuable, just something to prove he had gone deep inside the home. From what he saw of the Eschaton mansion, Aaron thought Senke never would have given him a place so easy except as a warm-up.

  Aaron slipped around back, checking each of the windows. He found one unlocked near the very back. His heart stopped as he realized that Dustin may have been the one to unlock it. Stepping back, he scanned the area, seeing no footprints. There was undisturbed dirt on the windowsill. Carelessness then, Aaron decided. Thank Ashhur for that.

  He slid it open, doing so quicker than he might have normally. He didn’t have time to be patient. If Dustin spotted him, he’d want to know what was going on. Aaron might be able to get the jump on him if he hurried. With the window halfway open, Aaron slipped inside and onto the hardwood floor within. His landing made far more noise than he’d have liked. If any of his former teachers had been there, he’d have been given a solid, but quiet, smack to the head.

  It took him another moment to decide what to do about the window. Part of him wanted to leave it open for a quick getaway. Then he realized that if he was trying to make a quick getaway, he had already failed terribly. Better to make sure Dustin got no wind of his being there. He shut it and readjusted the curtains.

  Aaron could only guess as to the layout of the mansion. Thick curtains covered the windows, making the rooms far darker than it was outside. He waited a minute for his eyes to adjust, then worked his way toward the back. When his feet touched carpet, he smiled. Off of the hard surface, he’d make much better time.

  He had entered a long hallway with three windows facing out. The direction he’d guessed led him to a small kitchen, small by rich men’s standards, anyway, though it appeared well stocked. Aaron slipped on through, drawing his dagger as he exited into a short hallway ending at a door. He pried it open, cringing at the noise the hinges made. An alert guard might have heard, but inside he saw only a large bed. An elderly lady slept on the side closest to him, her mouth open, drooling. Her hair was completely gray. Lying beside her was Delius’s daughter.

  Aaron couldn’t believe it. Her father murdered that morning, by the Spider Guild, no less, and no one had thought to give her a guard? Not even a man of the house? Instead she was with an aunt or a grandmother. Helpless.

  That’s what I’m for, Aaron thought as he scanned the area. The room only had one door. If Dustin was to get to them, he had to go through the kitchen, followed by the short hallway. Knowing his time was running out, Aaron planned through the upcoming encounter. When Dustin arrived, he was determined to have surprise on his side.

  “You’re sure that’s where she is?” Dustin asked, dancing a copper piece along his knuckles.

  “Yeah,” said the drunken man opposite him. “Delysia’s not old enough to be by herself, not with her brother off being trained to be some kind of mage or whatnot. Her granny’s with her. Stupid old bag, I’d have slapped her a dozen times if she wasn’t so quick and eager to call her son to save her.”

  “I don’t care about her,” Dustin said. “Why wouldn’t they take Delysia elsewhere?”

  The other man shrugged. He looked ready to pass out. When Dustin had begun asking around the bars about the Eschatons, he’d been given blank looks until, at the fifth, a man had pointed to the corner.

  “Ask for Barney,” he’d been told. “Guy worked for him, guard or something.”

  Barney had actually been a gardener, though he had often implied that he’d been an actual guard when asked what he did. Dustin had been worried about loyalties to his employer, worries that quickly died when he found out Barney had been fired earlier in the day.

  “Windbag thinks they can’t afford me,” Barney grumbled. “I’ll show her. Bet that Delius bastard had a ton stored away. No one just gives their shit to the poor. They’ll say they do, but they never do.”

  Dustin had already bought the man three drinks. He tossed him the copper, not caring that it rolled off the table and to the floor. For a moment it didn’t look like Barney even noticed.

  “What you want them for anyway?” he asked after a lengthy belch.

  “Unfinished business,” said Dustin as he walked out of the bar.

  The Eschaton estate wasn’t very far. It appeared Barney liked to drink close to home. Dustin kept to the shadows as he approached, his hand casually resting on the hilt of his mace. With its solid round head, it was more of an iron club. A good blow could smash a man’s skull like a pumpkin. Dustin always got a much bigger thrill breaking bones than spilling blood. People bled all the time. Cuts were on the outside. Bones were inside, and the way people howled when he mangled their fingers or obliterated their kneecaps … it gave him shivers just thinking about it.

  There was also one extra benefit to having the mace instead of a sword. He slipped around to the back, found the first window on the eastern side facing away from the street, and then smashed it in with his mace. Barney had made it quite clear that it was just Delysia and her grandmother, and that they had no guards. Even if they did awake to the sound of breaking glass, what would they do? Fight back?

  Dustin chuckled. He hoped so. He wasn’t much for old ladies, but Delysia was supposed to be ten or so. Her pleading and struggling would be damn exciting.

  Once inside, Dustin pushed his back against the wall beside the doorway. If someone came to investigate the noise, he’d have an easy blow to the back of their head. No one came. He shook his head. Whoever these Eschatons were, they were a stupid lot. He walked silently into a modest kitchen, careful not to disturb anything. He had been sloppy with the window, he knew that, but making too much ruckus searching for the girl would be pushing his luck. Besides, if they tried to flee, he wanted to make sure he heard them.

  He was not prepared for what he saw when he reached the other side of the kitchen. A boy dressed in Spider Guild grays knelt next to a door at the end of a short hallway. Dustin stopped, unhidden in the middle of the doorway, and wondered if he had somehow entered the wrong house.

  So far the boy’s back was to him. Dustin glanced around, saw a crumb of hardened bread crust, and flung it. It smacked the boy in the ear. His tiny body jumped, and Dustin winced at the noises he made. They weren’t loud, but he guessed a bedroom was on the other side of the door.

  “What the bloody Abyss are you doing here?” Dustin whispered fiercely once the boy was with him in the kitchen. The boy looked back, only his eyes visible through the mask over his face. Dustin figured he was one of their younger thieves, but he didn’t have a clue who. “And what’s with the mask?”

  “I’m correcting a mistake,” the boy whispered back.

  Dustin gestured to the door, then made a circular motion with his finger beside his head, showing what he thought of that plan.

  “You’re a kid, now go home,” Dustin said. “I have work to do.”

  When he tried to push him aside, the boy grabbed his wrist and held firm.

  “She was my kill first,” he whispered far too loudly. The hairs on the back of Dustin’s neck stood on end. Something was wrong here. Those eyes seemed so familiar…

/>   “Aaron?” he asked, tugging his arm free.

  “No,” said the boy. “My name is Haern.”

  Pain spiked into Dustin’s side. He spun on reflex, only dimly aware that the boy had stabbed him. His spin forced the dagger out, flinging blood across the lower drawers of the kitchen. He swung his mace, grunting as it broke the door frame. Haern rolled underneath the blow, kicked off the table, and then lunged with his dagger.

  Dustin parried with the length of his mace, set his left foot closer, and then swung back, hoping Haern would trip when dodging. Instead the boy ducked underneath, looped his own leg around Dustin’s foot, and stabbed his dagger into Dustin’s calf.

  Choking down a scream, Dustin swung his mace back down. One good hit and he’d splatter Haern’s brains across the floor. Problem was, the boy was too fast. He darted from side to side, barely avoiding every swing. How the noise had not attracted attention, Dustin didn’t have a clue. On his fourth swing, Haern parried the mace to the side, then cut back quickly enough to slice a thin gash along Dustin’s hand.

  The older thief abandoned all pretense at silence. Any underestimation of Haern’s skill was gone. He stepped back, hoping to go on the defensive to see if Haern made a mistake. Instead Haern lunged, his sudden aggressiveness startling Dustin. More dagger cuts lined his legs, which already throbbed with pain.

  “Have her,” Dustin said, backing toward the window he’d entered. “You can have her, just fucking kill her afterward, all right?”

  This only seemed to enrage Haern further. Dustin turned to run, knowing the boy would never let him leave. He took only two steps, and then spun. His knee slammed into Haern’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Before the boy could dart away, he followed it up with a vicious elbow to the side of his face. He felt grim satisfaction at the sight of blood spurting across the carpet, blood that wasn’t his.

  “What is your problem?” Dustin asked as he knelt down. Haern was on his stomach, his dagger lying several inches out of reach in the kitchen. He grabbed Haern’s leg and pulled him closer, determined to remove the mask. He had his suspicions about the boy being Aaron, but needed to know for sure. If it was Aaron, he’d leave and let Thren dole out whatever punishment he felt appropriate. If it wasn’t, well…