Shadowblade (15 page)

“I will dispatch messengers to the Emperor and the Patriarch to ensure that Arnathia stays out of Hybrand and the Eastern Kingdoms. Forget the sniveling fool, Darius. He deserves whatever fate befalls him should he choose to stay in Hybrand. Instead, I want you to continue to spy on my brother and to report to me directly. I want to know what he and his Cjii are doing. I want to know what he is planning and how he will accomplish it. And, I want to know what my father is involved in.”

“As you command, Great One,” said the Cjii, bowing humbly.

Qra’z waved his hand at the Cjii and said nothing more, but Devoricus knew he had been dismissed. Just as quickly and dramatically as when they had left, the courtiers of the Golden Dragon returned in puffs of smoke or flame or bursts of light. Music played again and the food and wine tables appeared from nowhere; spirits flowed freely in the hall and the merriment began again. Devoricus was tempted to partake of his Master’s legendary free flowing wine, and delicious food, but Qra’z was an unmerciful ruler. The Cjii had no doubt he would very much regret any such foolishness and so he left the palace immediately.

C H A P T E R

7

The Siren’s Call.

As he left the
Call,
Zach was increasingly aware of how much lighter the purse given to him by Lord Cannath had become. He enjoyed a moment of genuine mirth, knowing that the prim and proper lord would likely be furious to learn how Zach was spending his money! But his laughter dried up as he thought again that his gold was dwindling.

He walked along the waterfront and the snow had ceased its attempt to cover the world in a blanket of white powder, but the skies were heavy with clouds and it looked as though winter had not given up its fight quite yet. Zach paused a moment at the intersection of an alley and noticed a waterfront shop claiming to deal in
fireore
, a famously valuable metal mined only in the lands of the Crimson Elves. With a hand on his dagger, Zach realized he had found a way to acquire some money.

Seeing no Red Dragon patrols about, he strolled up to the shop’s door. When he saw that it was locked, he sighed. Did he really want to risk a break-in during the day, when any passersby might see him? Several wandered up to the large bay-view window and peered inside, but moved on when they realized the store was closed; and none had seen him!

Zach walked away from the store and strolled down the alleyway, seeing a pair of youths hiding amongst the refuse and debris. Neither could have been older than fifteen, raggedly dressed and filthy. Thieves, he was certain. He was amazed, however, that these youths did not see him either. He stopped and heard one whispering to the other.

“I
know
I heard something, I did!” hissed one, very quietly. Zach was surprised he could even hear the hushed tones.

“I heard it too, Ollie!” replied the other youth, surprised. “But I don’t see nothin’ now, I don’t.”

“We need a mark soon, or we ain’t going back to the house tonight!”

They can’t see me!
he remarked to himself, clutching his dagger tightly.
It must be the dagger.

“Kill one of them now,” came the voice beside his ear. “Test your new abilities.”

Instead of being annoyed by the voice, Zach was amused. For the abrupt silence told him that the would-be muggers had heard that unseen voice, even if they hadn’t understood what it wanted him to do. Zach wasn’t averse to killing a pair of street urchins, but he felt his time would be better spent breaking in to the
fireore
shop. He turned about, gripping his dagger tightly and walked back toward the shop.

“Coward,” growled the voice, but Zach ignored it. He walked right up to the front door and jammed
Morloth’s
tip into the small gap between the doorjamb and the catch. Quite suddenly,
Morloth’s
blade lengthened itself and the tip seemed to strike something hard. As the blade made contact, Zach jammed it farther in and was rewarded with the sound of metal striking the floor. He pushed gently on the door and slipped inside, closing it behind him. He jammed a piece of the broken lock under the bottom of the door to keep the wind from blowing it open, and to alert him if someone entered after him.

The shop was cool inside, but not cold, suggesting that the proprietor had been gone for at least a short while. It was a pleasant but small shop with a glass counter that displayed some very fine metal wares beneath. In addition to selling rare and mythical
fireore
, the shop seemed to house the wares of a very talented silversmith. Shelves lined the wall behind the counter displaying fine plates and cups and decorations of silver inlaid with gold or painted or skillfully crafted in other ways. He moved behind the counter and chose a few less desirable silver cups, as they would likely attract less attention on a fencer’s market than the others, and it wasn’t what he was after anyway.

There were no other rooms in the shop that he could see and so he surmised that there had to be a hidden strongbox somewhere, it was very unlikely that a man would risk carrying all the money and the valuables needed to operate a store on his person each day. He wondered if the man lived nearby, upstairs perhaps. Then dismissed the thought as he sought the location of any truly valuable items. There had to be a strongbox.

Finding no signs of a hidden wall panel, he walked back and forth along the floor behind the counter listening for changes in the sound of his footfalls, hoping for the presence of a hidden compartment. Hearing nothing so obvious, Zach got down on his hands and knees and tapped the floor gently with the dagger’s pommel, listening intently. Finally, he found a floor board that sounded just a bit more hollow than the others. He stuck
Morloth’s
tip into the slight gap between the boards and pried the length of it. Then he repeated the process on each side of the board and gently removed it from its place.

The board concealed a large compartment, which seemed to extend off to one side under the counter. He suspected that there might have been an easier access point to the compartment, but it would certainly have taken him longer to find it. He glanced outside the large waterfront window and was pleased to see that the snow was falling again and it seemed a bit more blustery, and less likely that someone would peer inside.

He reached inside the compartment with his free hand and felt gently around inside, supposing he was more likely to trigger a trap at the proper opening of the compartment than here. When his bare hand glided across the surface of polished metal, metal that was warm to the touch, his heart began to race. Only
firesteel
, made from
fireore
would retain a measure of warmth in this cold weather. He continued to feel around the item and determined it was a box. He gently removed the box from the compartment and placed on the floor in front of him. He marveled at its craftsmanship, its beauty, and its color. For the metal was a golden-red and he had never seen anything like it.

“Focus,” hissed his invisible companion voice. He heeded the warning and reached back into the compartment, focused on finding whatever else was inside. He removed a sack containing a goodly amount of coins, a stack of papers, and a ring made from
firesteel
. There was nothing else inside the compartment.

The weather outside was growing steadily worse and gusts of wind were pounding the door, he knew he must either find a way to lock it or take his plunder and leave. Rather than risk getting stuck inside all night, he chose to take his prizes and leave before the storm was so bad he could not walk in it. As it was, he would have to risk the back alleys that offered a measure of protection from the now howling wind. He knew he should leave some of the prizes behind as he really did not have enough pockets to conceal his plunder, but he was overcome with the desire to keep what he found. All of it. So he placed
Morloth
into his waistband and freed both hands to stuff the papers and the money into his coat pockets along with the silver pieces he’d taken from the shelves. He slipped the ring onto the ring finger of his right hand and then picked up the
firesteel
box.

Then the door blew open, the piece of steel he had used to prop it open went skittering across the floor.

A flurry of wind and snow blew into the small room and blinded Zach for a moment, the cold breeze addled his brain. The door closed again, a bolt slid home, and when he could see he was facing two men.

Two very angry looking men.

“The dagger!” growled his voice companion, and Zach realized he wasn’t holding the dagger then. Even as he reached for
Morloth
he knew the protections of the dagger would not hide him now, the men saw him. However, as he closed his hand over the hilt his mind began to formulate a plan.

“Stop!” ordered the closest man who leveled a handheld crossbow at Zach, a Red Dragon by his sash. The second didn’t have the telltale sash of a Red Dragon, but he was very angry nonetheless.

“Thief!” shouted the second man. “You know what we do to a thief, thief? We cut off his hands!”

Before Zach could blink, he raised his hand and launched
Morloth
through the air, the magical dagger spun end over end and planted itself to the hilt in the Red Dragon’s neck. The man dropped his crossbow causing it to fire, the bolt narrowly missing Zach’s head as the man clutched at the blade in his neck. The man thrashed, unable to remove the blade, while the second man watched, horrified.

The second man, who Zach now saw was unarmed, backpedaled toward the door as the first man’s death throes ceased. Zach let the dagger have its fill, enjoying the look of fear on the other man’s face.

This is power!
he thought, smiling evilly at the man.
Morloth
was back in his hand now and he advanced upon the faltering man.

“Please, take what you want!” begged the man.

“Oh, I will!” he replied devilishly.

“Just take it and go, I won’t trouble you!”

“But you already have,” Zach said, amiably. He held skull pommel of the enchanted dagger to the man’s throat, allowing its evil jaws to nibble on the man’s neck, a trickle of blood dripped down onto his shirt. The dagger was thirsty.

“No...no,” the man said, getting weaker. “No...I...won’t...trouble you.”

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Zach said genuinely as the man’s knees gave way and he dropped to the floor. “But you have seen my face.”

Zach let the dagger have its fill, lest it exert some terrible influence upon him that he wasn’t yet aware it could do, and cause him trouble in the future. He remembered the lich prince’s warning that the dagger needed to feed. Only when the shop owner’s skin had dried and become almost leathery, did Zach removed the dagger. Zach ducked back behind the counter and replaced the floorboard that concealed the hidden compartment

Then he quickly checked the shopkeeper’s body and found that he had nothing of value but a ring of keys, at least nothing that was easy to find. Zach pocketed the keys and checked the body of the dead Dragon finding a small purse of Ckaymrish silver coins and a pair of daggers. He removed one of the Red Dragon’s daggers and inserted it into the wound that his own dagger had caused moments before. Then he arranged the shopkeeper’s corpse so that he was lying near the body of the Red Dragon, his hand on the dagger. While Zach knew that this little bit of misdirection would not fool a seasoned investigator for a minute, it might fool a few ignorant Red Dragon patrolmen long enough for Zach to remain a step or two ahead of the authorities.