The Inquisitives [2] Night of Long Shadows (18 page)

Wren pulled the shiftweave hood down so Cutter could see his face. He indicated for Bex to do the same. “Cutter? Cutter, look at me.” He waved his hand in front of the man’s eyes, but he didn’t even blink.

“Drugged?” asked Bex, leaning over to stare at Cutter’s face.

“I don’t think so. I think—”

“Well, well,” said a voice behind him. “If it isn’t the half-elf barrister. And you managed to see your client. That’s nice.”

Wren turned and saw the woman guard he had talked to yesterday standing just inside the doorway. She was accompanied by four members of the Watch. “Not going to run off again, are you? We didn’t finish our chat.”

M
y name is Jana, by the way,” said the guard. “Cutter and I go way back.” She peered over Wren’s shoulder. “Host, is he still staring at the wall? What’s wrong with him?”

“His woman was murdered.”

“Oh, yes. I heard about that. Stupid bitch. But you know how it is. You push the big boys, they cut your throat. That’s how it works.”

Wren glanced to the doorway, wondering where Salka and Ravi were. Jana caught his look and grinned. “Looking for your friends? Or should I say friend?”

Wren frowned. What was she talking about?

“You’ve been set up, half-elf. Betrayed.”

Wren’s eyes flicked to Bex. The half-orc was frowning, probably thinking the same thing he was.
Ravi
. He should have listened to his instincts about the shifter.

“Actually, it’s really handy for me. See, I needed to kill Cutter here—”

Wren’s attention shot back to Jana.

“Oh, yes. Didn’t I mention that?”

Realization hit Wren, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “You work for the Boromars,” he said. That was why she was so interested in him when he was asking about Cutter.

“I do. As do my friends here. And certain people aren’t happy with Cutter.”

“Because of the dreamlily?”

That stopped her. “Dreamlily? What are you talking about?”

“The dreamlily Cutter’s woman stole.” Wren paused, running through all the information in his head, trying to put it neatly together. “You’re not here because of the dreamlily?”

“No. I’m here because Cutter stole money from someone he shouldn’t have, and they want him dead. I have no idea what his woman did.” She shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t care. What I
do
care about is that you’ve given me a perfect setup for his death. You tried to break him out, we caught you, a fight followed while we bravely tried to stop you, then you were all killed.” She smiled. “Nice and tidy. The way I like it.”

Wren barely heard her. So this was about two different cases. Jana didn’t want to kill Cutter because of the dreamlily. She didn’t even know about it. She was after him for something else.

Wren heard a noise behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Cutter had straightened up. His eyes were red-rimmed, shadowed. Cutter looked at Wren and the half-elf fought an urge to step back. There was no humanity in his eyes—only the flat stare of an animal on the hunt. His eyes flicked to Jana.

“How did you hear about it?” he whispered.

“What?”

“I said, how did you hear about Rowen’s death? Who told you?”

Jana didn’t answer straight away.

“Answer me!”
shouted Cutter, surging to his feet. This time, Wren did step back. He stumbled into Jana, felt her hands on his back as she tried to push him away.

Wren acted instinctively. As soon as he felt Jana’s hands on his back, he grabbed a bloodspike from his belt and plunged it into her neck. Her legs gave out, dropping her to her knees. But Wren was still holding the bloodspike. It snapped in his hand, Jana’s blood spouting from the hollow tube sticking out of her neck.

Cutter grabbed the sword strapped across her back. He pulled it free, knocking her off balance so she fell at his feet. Wren glanced down at her, then looked up just in time to jerk aside as the point of the sword darted through the space he had been occupying, catching the closest guard in the stomach.

Cutter pushed on the sword, propelling the impaled man backward into his comrades. Then he yanked the blade free and barreled into them, scattering them to the sides.

He swung the sword to the right, catching the closest guard in the side of the neck. One still struggled beneath the body of the first guard, but the remaining guard had his sword out and was aiming a thrust for Cutter’s back. Wren drew a dagger from his belt and flicked it past Cutter’s shoulder, hitting the guard in the eye. His body jerked upright, then he collapsed backward. Cutter glanced down at the body, then at Wren.

“I thought you said no killing,” said Bex from behind him.

“I meant real guards. Not these bastards.”

Cutter set off down the passage. “Wait,” called Wren. “Cutter, wait! There are more out there. We were set up.”

Cutter paused and stared at him. “Speak quickly.”

“I made a mistake. I realize that. You weren’t responsible for
the professor’s death. We came to break you out, but it looks like one of my crew betrayed us. Turned us in to your friend back there.”

“What’s your point?”

“My
point
is that you need us to get out of here. Let me take the lead. I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Cutter thought about it, then shook his head. “Find your own way out. I don’t need your help.”

“Cutter, I know where Rowen’s body is. I can take you to her.”

That made him pause. He thought a few moments, then reluctantly stepped aside. Wren hurried past him to the door, pressing his ear to the wood.

Bex came up behind him. “What tricks?” he whispered.

Wren glanced over his shoulder to make sure Cutter couldn’t overhear. “I don’t know. I didn’t want him running out there killing everyone he laid eyes on.”

“Yes, he is rather … enthusiastic, isn’t he?”

Wren couldn’t hear anything through the door, so he opened it a crack. The guard room looked deserted. He pushed the door wider.

There.

Ravi was seated behind one of the desks, her back to him. He looked around, then froze.

Salka was lying on the floor at the shifter’s feet.

Wren’s mind went blank. He yanked open the door and plunged into the room, crossing the distance to the shifter before the others were even aware he was moving. He grabbed his dagger and pulled back on the chair. It tipped over backward and hit the floor. Ravi didn’t react.

An instant later, he saw why. She was dead, a single knife wound through the neck.

Wren lowered his dagger in confusion. How …?

“Wren, down!” shouted Bex.

Wren ducked and spun just in time to see Jana’s sword embed itself halfway to the hilt in Salka’s chest, thrown there by Cutter. Salka dropped the sword she had been swinging at Wren, a look of disbelief on her face. She stared into Wren’s eyes, beseeching.

“No!” Wren shouted. He leaped up and grabbed hold of Salka, lowering her into almost the exact same position she had been in when pretending to be dead. He turned to Cutter, glaring at him through hate-blurred eyes. “What did you do?” he shouted. “What did you do?”

“Wren …” said a weak voice. Salka.

Wren looked down at her.

“Wren, it’s fine. It’s good. He saved … save you. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” he said, rocking the woman in his arms. “Don’t talk.”

“Had … had to. Had—had no choice, Wren.”

“Stop talking, Salka.” Wren turned to find Bex standing behind him. He tried to hold her up to the druid, but the blood pooling beneath them made her slip in his arms. “Bex! Save her. Fix her.”

“I can’t, Wren,” whispered Bex. “She’s too far gone.”

Wren shook his head and turned to Salka. He tried to smile at her. “Don’t listen to him, Salk. We’ll get you fixed up. It doesn’t matter what you did. It’ll be like it never happened.”

Salka coughed. Blood welled from her mouth. The next moment, she grabbed hold of his arm, her nails digging into his flesh. She stared deep into his eyes and spoke in a fierce whisper. “Don’t judge me on this, Wren. Please. Judge me on wha—what came before.”

Her eyes fluttered closed and she went limp in his arms. It
was as if a weight lifted from her body. She just …
emptied
.

He laid her gently down. Bex put a hand on his shoulder. “Wren, we have to go.”

Wren shook his head and stood up. “Why? Why would she betray us like that? After all this time?”

Bex shrugged. “She was … different, Wren. Said she was having problems of some kind.”

“I know,” said Wren softly. “I didn’t even ask her what they were.”

“Things have been moving a bit fast today, Wren. No one’s had a chance to catch up.”

Wren grabbed hold of Bex’s arm. “No one hears of this, Bex. No one has to know what happened. She died in a fight with the guards. That’s it.”

Bex nodded. “I understand.”

Cutter had taken the keys from one of the unconscious guards and was opening a wall safe.

“What are you doing?” snapped Wren. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with Cutter. He’d saved his life, after all. But … he
killed
Salka. Wren had known the woman for twenty years! And now she was dead.

Cutter ignored him while he rummaged around inside the safe. A moment later, he withdrew two curved knives—the weapons Wren had seen him with earlier. He thrust them into his belt and turned to Wren.

“How do we get out?”

“We have a skycoach waiting on the roof.”

Cutter nodded and headed for the door. Bex followed. Wren paused, took one last look at Salka, then pushed his grief away, bundled it into a tiny box that was kept hidden away at the back of his mind.

It was an exercise that had served him well in the past.

They retraced their steps to the balcony overlooking the interior of Warden Towers. Wren took a quick look over the side and saw many more guards than there had been earlier. They seemed to be milling around in confusion. That probably meant Dalen’s illusions had been discovered for what they were.

They ran to the staircase that spiraled up to the top floor. No sooner had Wren placed a foot on the first step than he heard a shout from up above. Then the sounds of jingling metal, the sound one usually heard when armored guards were running. He looked at Bex.

“Think they’ve discovered the grooms?”

“I think it more than likely. Come.”

They sprinted back to the balcony.

“What’s going on?” asked Cutter. “I thought you had a way out.”

“We did.”

“The operative word being ‘did,’” said Bex.

“So we fight,” said Cutter, pulling out his knives.

Wren looked at the hunger for death he saw shining in Cutter’s eyes. If they let him get started, it wouldn’t end until they were all dead.

“No. Cutter, if you want revenge for Rowen’s death, this isn’t the way to go about it. You can’t take on the whole of the Watch.”

“He’s certainly willing to try,” said Bex.

“What do you suggest?” asked Cutter.

“We walk out,” Wren declared.

“What?” the two men unisoned.

“Bex and I are dressed like everyone else. You’re our prisoner. With all the confusion down there, no one will notice a thing.”

“I don’t know, Wren,” said Bex doubtfully. “Why don’t we get Ravi’s shiftweave?”

“No time. Those guards will be here any moment now.” He turned to Cutter. “If you want your revenge, this is the only way. Do you understand me?”

Cutter hesitated, then nodded curtly, hiding his knives beneath his shirt. The trio ran around the balcony to the lift. Wren passed his hand over the sigil that summoned the lift and peered over the edge. He cursed beneath his breath. It was still on the bottom floor. He watched as the black disc shuddered in response to the sigil and slowly started to rise.

“How long?” asked Bex.

“Not sure.”

“It better be quick because someone’s trying to get our attention.”

Wren looked up and saw that three hippogriff riders were signaling them. Wren waved back. “Did anyone check the stables to see if all the hippogriffs are there?”