Blood of the Underworld(40)

“Now’s not the time to be a hero,” Deathmask said to them, pointing at the nearest Spider. Fire shot from his finger and bathed the man in flame. His screams did not last long, but were still terrible to hear. At the same time, a woman leapt from the rooftops, two daggers glowing a soft violet in her hands. She landed amid the stunned thieves, making short work of those who tried to defend themselves. Haern recognized her as Veliana, Deathmask’s second in command. Not that he had many to command. Only two others were in his guild, twins...

He found them beside Victor in the distance. Haern feared they would hurt him, but from what he could see through the smoke, they only stood at his side, as if to protect him. Shaking his head, Haern turned behind him, realizing he had forgotten the threat of his father. If Thren had wanted, he could have born down upon him, but instead he stood far back, the look of anger on his face chilling even to Haern.

“You have none to blame,” Thren said, meeting Haern’s eye. “Whatever games we’ve played, they end tonight.”

He fled into the night, and Haern had no desire to chase. Sheathing his sabers, he neared the crater, which was slowly dwindling down in the amount of heat and smoke. Deathmask crossed his arms over his chest. By the way his eyes twinkled, Haern had little doubt the dark-haired man was enjoying himself.

“Since when do thieves protect the lords who hunt them?” Haern called out as he approached.

“We have no fear of the hunt,” Deathmask said, removing his mask. With a snap of his fingers, the ash fell to the street, revealing his features. He was a handsome man, his dark hair down to his neck, his tanned skin smooth and clean. Most noticeable were his eyes, the left a deep brown, the right colored red. “Besides, you know I enjoy a bit of chaos every now and then.”

Veliana joined his side, her daggers still twirling in her dexterous fingers. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail. She might have been beautiful but for the wicked scar that ran from forehead to chin, cutting across her right eye and leaving it a bloody orb.

“You don’t mind if we take him for a while, do you?” Veliana asked him.

“Victor?” asked Haern. “Why?”

“Just somewhere safe,” Deathmask said, giving Haern a wink. “Don’t try to follow us. Besides, I think you have your own mess to clean up.”

Deathmask nodded to the tavern that Victor had been using as a home. Haern glanced at it, saw the bodies and dwindling fire. When he looked back, he realized the twins were gone, and Victor with them. Deathmask’s smile grew.

“Don’t worry, Watcher,” he said. “We won’t keep him long.”

They stepped into the crater, and smoke wafted over them. When it cleared, they were gone. Haern took a deep breath, let it out. Whatever was going on, it was currently beyond his control. But it seemed like the Ash Guild wasn’t ready to see Lord Victor killed. At least, not by someone other than them.

“Damn it all,” Haern said, shaking his head. He looked to the fire, the bodies, and heard the screams of the injured who had yet to die. Far away, a trumpet sounded, the call of the city guard arriving far too late. A rock settled deep in Haern’s gut.

Whatever peace Veldaren had known, it died that night. Thren’s look had promised war, and in time, decimated guild or not, he would have it. Saying a prayer for the entire city, Haern returned to Victor’s place to wait for the rest of the Eschaton to arrive. Whatever their motivations, the Ash Guild could not be trusted. One way or another, Haern would find them before the night’s end.





10



Zusa waited atop the eastern wall of the city, hidden in the recesses of a watchtower. Whenever a guard lazily wandered by, she clung to the stone ceiling and let him pass underneath without a clue to her presence. Then she dropped down, returned to the edge, and waited. It had been many years, but she knew she would recognize Daverik the moment he arrived. What she’d say to him—that she was far less certain of. Perhaps she’d just kill him. She wanted to. Almost needed to.

The night wore on, but she forced herself to be patient. She had given Daverik no specific location, for she didn’t want his Faceless to set up an ambush. If they tried following, she would spot their movement. No matter how good they might be at slinking through shadows, they were young, and Zusa was better.

“Are you a coward now?” Zusa wondered aloud as the night wore on. Daverik had been many things, but at least he had never been one to give in to fear. But it’d been over a decade since they’d lain in each other’s arms. Perhaps she was naive to think he had changed so little.