“Well,” Grayson said. “I guess we should take care of that, shouldn’t we?”
Fire was already surrounding Deathmask’s hands before Grayson rolled to the side, using the wagon as cover. The expected attack from the wizard came, a burst of fire that consumed where he’d stood. It was slow, though, and more flash than heat. He was being played with, Grayson realized, as he leaned his back against the wagon.
“Doesn’t have to go like this,” Deathmask said, his voice drawing nearer. “We could be partners, and work together.”
“Bullshit!” Grayson shouted, his mind elsewhere. Tracy had rolled from the wagon to the door of the shop, hidden from Deathmask’s view. Boggs crouched just above Grayson within the broken wagon. Grayson held up three fingers to Tracy, counting them down. At one, they leapt out, but Deathmask was no longer alone. Men—twins, by the looks of it—stood before him, each holding a pair of daggers. Grayson slid, and he swung his arm in the way to knock Tracy down, as well. Four daggers sailed above them, hitting nothing.
“Back,” Grayson said as he turned and ran, sheathing a sword so he could grab Tracy by the arm. No spells gave chase like he thought. Instead, with a few words from Deathmask, his wagons caught fire one by one, burning as if doused with barrels of lantern fuel. Tracy let out a cry for her brother, but amid the smoke, Grayson could not tell if he escaped safely or not.
They ran for the door, but instead of finding safety in the shop, a woman with a wicked scar across her right eye met them there, bearing the colors of the Ash Guild. She held a dagger in her hand, and it glowed with purple fire.
“This is hardly the way to leave a negotiation,” she said.
“Nor the way Veldaren will fall,” Deathmask said, calmly walking toward them, the ash circling his head faster and faster, his smile hidden behind cloth yet clearly visible in his eyes. “The four of us have held our territory for years against all challengers, yet you would think to brush us aside like children?”
Boggs fell from the back of the nearest wagon, coughing and hacking. Tracy tensed, and Grayson could tell she wanted to go to him. His hands and face were black from the ash, but his burns didn’t seem too severe. Far more worrisome were the twins, who hurried to his location.
“Still breathing,” said the first.
“Just barely,” said the second.
Deathmask stepped closer and closer. Grayson could almost reach him with a lunge, but he looked unafraid, as if he actually believed he was the dread ghoul he appeared to be. The scarred woman seemed far more tense, and she kept her dagger at the ready.
“Don’t you dare lay a finger on him,” Grayson said to the twins.
“Or what?” they asked in unison.
In answer, Grayson flung himself at the woman, catching her across the face with his fist. As she fell back he tried to stab, but she was faster than he expected. Instead of fleeing further, she dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding the downward thrust that would have skewered her. Continuing on, she joined the twins, who stepped before her protectively. The woman fumed, but Deathmask only chuckled.
“How is the burned friend of theirs?” he asked as Grayson and Tracy stood there, still tense. They might flee into the shop, but that way was a dead end. If they wanted to escape, it had to be through the streets. Grayson had fought spellcasters before, and he knew he’d be pressing his luck trying to avoid their attacks in open streets for any length of time.
“He looks like he’s seen better days,” the woman said, lifting Boggs up with both hands, her dagger pressed against his chest. Boggs let out a gasp at her touch.
“A shame,” said Deathmask. “Veliana, if you’d so kindly put him out of his misery.”
The woman was only too happy to oblige. Before Grayson could think of what to do, Veliana pulled her dagger back, spun it, and jammed it through Boggs’s throat. Tracy let out a choked cry, part horror, part fury. Veliana dumped the body to the street, retrieved her dagger, and then burned away the blood with more purple fire. The twins shifted wider, just outside sword reach, blocking off the other side of the street. Only the shop remained, and for some reason, Grayson felt like he was being herded inside.
Glancing behind him, he realized much of his merchandise was still within in the shop. If he were trapped inside, and the Ash Guild summoned the city guard, then they’d be out their lives, and their coin. Worse, their guild’s intentions would be revealed to the King’s men. When word reached Mordeina, none of it would be of the Ash Guild’s involvement, either, the blame pinned on the city guard instead. Deathmask didn’t want to just kill him. He wanted to humiliate him, and make life far more difficult for the rest of the Sun Guild.