Sapphire Crescent (30 page)

“Don’t let them escape!” Kovrim called out, and a pair of Crescents pushed through the swirling fight to pursue the men.

Kovrim picked his way more carefully, dodging a sword swipe in the process, and finally reached the door that led out onto the tiled patio off the kitchen. The two soldiers were facing off against one of the men, whom Kovrim recognized as Grozier Talricci. The other man, a somewhat shorter, flabby fellow, cowered behind Grozier, watching the whole skirmish through a pair of spectacles that were slipping off his nose.

Suddenly, the timorous fellow reached into a pocket and drew forth a handful of something that Kovrim couldn’t see. He knew well enough that he was watching arcane magic, though, and tried to shout a warning. The paunchy wizard was too quick. He popped something in his mouth, casting his spell before the priest could make the mercenaries aware of the danger. Raring back, the wizard suddenly belched forth a spray of something, thoroughly covering one of the two mercenaries in the liquid. The man began to scream and claw at his own body, and Kovrim watched in horror as the substance, obviously some sort of acid, began to burn him.

Without thinking about it, Kovrim darted across and approached the man, who was down on the tiles, rolling in misery, his clothing half-burned away and his flesh covered in open sores and smoking. The priest grasped his talisman of Waukeen and knelt beside the anguished mercenary, praying to the goddess for the power of healing. Heedless of his own danger, Kovrim placed his hand upon the burned man’s chest and let the healing energy flow. The spell didn’t completely counteract the effects of the acid, but it was enough to ease the mercenary’s pain and keep him breathing.

A commotion right behind him drew Kovrim’s attention once he was finished applying his divine magic, and he realized that he was right in the wizard’s line of sight. The priest dived across the body of

the now-unconscious soldier, hoping to buy himself a moment or two to recover his wits and defend himself. As he tumbled across the tiles and turned back to face whatever danger might be coming toward him, Kovrim was relieved to see that several more Crescents had arrived and were quickly surrounding the wizard.

“Watch it!” Kovrim warned. “He’s spraying acid from his mouth!”

One of the mercenaries gave the priest a funny look, but the wizard didn’t attempt his deadly trick again. In truth, Kovrim had doubted it could be done more than once per use of the spell, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

“Bartimus!” Grozier shouted when it was obvious the two were quickly being overmatched. “Get us out of here!”

The wizard simply shook his head and held his hands up, indicating that he was out of ideas and would no longer resist. With a resentful snarl, Grozier threw his weapon to the side and surrendered, too. The mercenaries quickly kicked the weapons clear and forcibly took hold of the two men, some patting them down for hidden weapons, others pulling bits of rope out of belt pouches and restraining their prisoners.

Kovrim approached the head of House Talricci.

“How did it come to this, Grozier?” the priest asked. “The murder of innocent people, just for the sake of profit? Waukeen has her limits, you know.”

The other man simply glared at him.

Vambran crouched at the corner of the hallway, listening. Behind him, Emriana made no sounds as she hovered, waiting to see what her brother was going to do. Jaleene had been sent to find the other servants and get out of the house, if she could. The

woman had not wanted to be separated from her charge, apparently still fearing for the girl’s wellbeing, but Emriana had insisted. Vambran was thankful for his sister’s courage. He wanted her with him, both so that he could keep an eye on her and so that she could be there when Denrick went down. But having her personal maid along would have been too much. Jaleene was a kind woman and cared very much for Emriana, but the servant was in no condition mentally to resolve the situation, and it was better off for all of them if she got out of the middle of it. She had left with one last teary-eyed look back at Emriana.

The house was strangely empty, which worried Vambran more than a little. Even when many of the family members were not at home, he could recall numerous staff and the occasional house guard moving about, taking care of their appointed duties. At that moment, it was like a tomb. He did not care much for that analogy. He tried to consider where Uncle Dregaul might have taken the rest of the family if he intended to usurp total control of the house. Most likely, they would be confined to their rooms, but he had not found any of them there. It was possible, though unlikely, that his uncle had sent the lot of them down into the basement to be locked in the old cell that had been built. Vambran didn’t want to consider that a viable possibility until he had exhausted all the others, though. It was simply too base for him to believe.

Then again, he told himself, Dregaul has lost his faculties.

Vambran still had a hard time believing that the man would stoop to taking his own family hostage and offering up his niece’s flesh for the sake of an alliance in order to run the House the way he wanted. Dregaul had always been an intense man, but that just seemed too out of character.

When Vambran was satisfied there was no one in the main sitting room, he crept forward. He could barely discern Emriana padding along behind him. Vambran considered whether he should check the basements after all. The only places in the main part of the house he hadn’t yet searched were there, the kitchens, and Dregaul’s study.

He would leave the basement for last, the mercenary decided. He had to deny that choice for as long as possible. The study it was, then. He turned to follow a new hallway to a flight of stairs that led up to a balcony surrounding the sitting room. That’s when he heard the shouting.

It was muffled, coming from behind a closed door, but it was clear enough to make out that someone was arguing vehemently in the study. Vambran nodded to himself in satisfaction and turned to his sister.

“They’re up there,” he whispered, pointing toward his uncle’s sanctuary. “I don’t know who all is there, but I can hear arguing.”

“Then let’s go,” the girl replied.

“Not so fast,” Vambran said, holding up one hand to stay her. “The study opens onto the atrium, right?” Emriana nodded. “You think you can get up there?” She nodded again. “Then let’s come at them from two directions. We’ve got the element of surprise here. Let’s take advantage of it.”

Emriana leaned over and kissed Vambran once on the cheek and whispered, “Thanks for trusting me to help you. I’ll wait for some sort of signal before I go in.”

She slipped off down the hall to head to another part of the house, where stairs could get her to the next floor above the study.

Vambran turned his attention back to the closed door. The shouting had subsided for the moment, and he knew that he should wait for a little while to give

Emriana some time to get into position, but he just couldn’t. He had to find out if his family was all right, and he had to confront his uncle.

Peering around once more to make sure he wasn’t missing someone hiding nearby, watching him, Vambran stepped out and began to work his way through the sitting room, heading for the spiral staircase on the far side that would take him to the balcony overhead. The doors to the study opened onto that balcony. Then, on impulse, the lieutenant tried to step high, seeing if he could still walk on air. He could. He angled himself upward and began to climb through the sitting room, heading up and directly toward the study doors. He ascended all the way over the banister of the balcony and settled to the tiles. Just as he was about to crouch near the portal for a listen, the doors opened and Denrick stormed out, a sword belted to his hip.

The younger man had his back turned to Vambran at the moment, and the lieutenant could have easily gotten a quick and surprising strike in, had he wanted to, but it was what he saw just beyond the man, over his shoulder, that stayed the mercenary’s hand. Anista Pharaboldi was lying across the large table in the center of the room, a dagger jutting up from her chest. She didn’t move, and her eyes, still open, were glazed over as they stared up toward the ceiling. Beside her, Dregaul Matrell was in a similar pose. Vambran’s gasp gave him away.

Denrick spun around then, and when he saw Vambran standing there, a malevolent grin spread across his face. “Your uncle was easy, but I thought you’d be more difficult to kill. I guess I don’t have to hunt you down in order to finally do it, after all,” he said, pulling his blade free and settling into a fighting stance. “I’ll finish you off, first, then find

that wildcat of a sister of yours and finish what you interrupted.”

Vambran unsheathed his own weapon.

“Not a chance,” he said.

Emriana moved fluidly, soundlessly, through the darkened house, making her way up to the third floor, to the high chambers that

had once been her grandfather’s library. That section was little used anymore, but her grandmother insisted that all of her husband’s old books be left where they were, kept clean but otherwise undisturbed. Emriana didn’t think it was some strange clutching at the past, but rather a desire on Hetta’s part to keep the innumerable tomes available, should someone else in the family ever choose to take up reading as a pastime. The girl had come there occasionally as a youngster just to stare at the countless books, and a few more times more recently when she needed to get away from everyone, especially the twins.

Unlike most of the rooms in the house, it was completely enclosed, without the usual

open arched windows, to better preserve the books inside. There was still access to the outside, though, through a pair of doors that had windows of leaded glass set into them. The doors led to yet another balcony, a small one that sat at the top of a three-story light well in the middle of the house. The atrium at the bottom was filled with climbing plants on trellises, and Emriana felt confident she could make her way down to the level below, to the small balcony off the study, by descending one of the wooden lattices.

She opened the doors to the library and quietly slipped through, pulling the doors shut behind her. She stood there for a moment, peering around, but the chamber was completely dark except for the glow of moonlight shining in through the leaded glass windows in the doors on the opposite side of the room. That was her destination, but she would have to practically feel her way across the open floor, because she literally could not see any chairs or tables that might be standing between her and that portal. She had not come there often enough or recently enough to remember the layout of the furniture with any clarity.

Slowly, her hands in front of herself so she could feel her way clearly, Emriana began to walk toward the far doors. Each step was short and gentle, because one wrong move, any instance of bumping into the furniture, would alert anyone in the chamber underneath her. Her fingers brushed the edge of a chair, and she remembered that it was clear to the right of it, so she sidestepped slowly and advanced again.

The girl was perhaps halfway across when she got the sudden sensation that she was not alone in the room. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck prickled in alarm. She froze, straining to listen for any telltale signs that someone else was with her.

Quietly, as if realizing it had been detected, a shadow separated itself from the surrounding darkness and moved out into the open. Emriana’s

heart leaped into her throat. The form shifted over to stand in front of her, becoming a silhouette against the backdrop of the windows. Emriana took a step backward and bumped against the chair she had so carefully circumnavigated before.

“I had a feeling you’d come this way tonight,” the form said, “just a hunch, really, that you might think of sneaking into the study through the atrium.”

It was Evester.

Emriana nearly dropped to the floor, she was shaking so hard, but she sighed in relief.

“Waukeen, Evester!” she hissed, moving toward her oldest brother. “Do you intentionally make a habit of scaring the life out of me? What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” Evester replied as Emriana closed with him to give him a hug.

Evester returned the embrace—and the girl was flipping over sharply, off balance against her brother’s hip. She landed on the floor with a solid thud, her arms pinned behind her. The breath was knocked out of her.

As Emriana gasped and tried to make sense of what had just happened, she felt her brother cinch her arms together with rope. Her heart sank, realizing that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

“Uncle Dregaul should have paid more attention to your antics,” Evester said, finishing his knot work and starting on Emriana’s legs. “He would have realized, like I have, what a clever little rogue you’ve turned into, sneaking out all the time.”

“Evester,” Emriana said, “what are you doing? What’s happened to you?”

“Oh, plenty,” Evester replied. “I woke up and realized if I waited around for Grandmother Hetta to die and Uncle Dregaul to finally retire, I’d never gain control of this family and its assets. So I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“Why?” the girl asked in a small voice, horrified that her older brother was behind all of what was going on. “What could you have possibly wanted that you couldn’t already have?”

“Oh, little Em,” Evester said with a chuckle, “you are still so innocent. Sixteen tonight and thinking you understand life, but you don’t. There’s so much more. The real power to be had in this city is there for the taking, if people are just willing to step up and grab it. Denrick and I see that. Someday, maybe you will, too.”

“It was you!” Emriana said suddenly, realizing that Evester and not Uncle Dregaul had promised Denrick he could have her. “You told that lecherous worm that he could violate me! You gave him permission to take me!”

She struggled to get up, then began kicking to try to break free, but it was too late; her brother had already bound her tightly.