“Good idea.” Lydia grinned ruefully. “I can go all day on sea or land, but these cobblestones are cursed hard on the feet!”
“It is going to look rather suspicious if we all march into an inn together,” Naitachal pointed out. “We’re not exactly an ordinary mix of people.”
“That’s no problem to me.” Tich’ki laughed, fluttering her wings. “All I need is a window, and I’m in!”
“The same is true of Naitachal and me,” Eliathanis added. “We are elves, not clumsy humans.”
“Ill remind you of that the next time you trip over something,” Lydia muttered.
“I never—”
The bardling held up a warning hand. “First we find an inn. Then we quarrel!”
That got grudging chuckles from everyone.
Well, what do you know? the pleased Kevin told himself. Maybe I am starting to get the knack of being a leader! But before he could congratulate himself too much, a shout from the far side of the square made them all start and whirl.
Oh-no, not now.
“Well, well,” murmured Lydia. “Look who found us. It’s the Gang of Things.”
“Ugly, aren’t they?” Tich’ki mocked. “Bet they make even uglier corpses.”
Kevin couldn’t be so casual about it. Somewhere along the way. Empty Eyes had picked up a few more supporters. “There are ten of them,” he pointed out to Lydia and Tich’ki, “and only five of us.”
“They are also,” the warrior woman reminded Kevin, “nicely within bowshot.” She nocked arrow to bow in one swift, fluid movement. “Come on,” Lydia taunted the enemy. “Come and die.”
“You have only the one bow, woman,” Empty Eyes purred. “And I have some tricks of my own.”
Faster than a striking snake, he thrust out his hand, shouting out a savage Word of Power. Lydia cried out in shock as her bowstring snapped in two.
“That’s better,” Empty Eyes said. “Take them!”
Kevin had barely enough time to whip out his sword before the gang was upon them. They’ve got swords! a startled part of his mind noted. What’s a street gang doing with something as expensive as swords?
They had to be in someone’s pay. Selden? No, he had the guards at his beck and call. Then who ... ?
No time to worry about it. Ten against five was terrible odds, no matter what Lydia and Tich’ki thought.
Naitachal had summoned up his sorcerous black blade again—but Empty Eyes only laughed, moving to counter its attack with a dead gray blade of his own. Naitachal’s eyes widened in surprise and the other elf laughed anew.
“That’s right. Dark Elf. Some of us have played with sorcery, too.”
Kevin lost the rest of chat conversation as a sinuous being that seemed some unholy cross of man and snake lunged at him, sword in scaly hand. The bardling parried, two-handed, just in time, the shock of impact shivering all the way up to his shoulders. He staggered back, closely followed by his foe, who moved every bit as fluidly and unpredictably as a serpent.
I don’t know what style of fencing he’s using! I—I’ve never seen it before and I don’t know how—
Kevin’s frantic thought ended in a gasp as he came up hard against the rim of the fountain. The being grinned at him, a flash of alarmingly sharp fangs, and lunged yet again. Trapped, Kevin did the only thing he could, and leaped up onto the rim, slashing down at the being, who was cutting savagely at his legs. Suddenly inspired, Kevin sprang aside and down, into (he wide basin of the fountain, just as the being lunged. The creature’s blade danged harshly against stone, and Kevin, remembering the bandit back in the rocky gorge, hastily brought his foot down on the flat of the blade as hard as he could.
There was a gratifying snap. The being hissed—his tongue narrow and forked as that of a snake—and hurled the broken sword at Kevin’s head. The bardling ducked, tripped over rubble in the basin, and went flat, narrowly missing cracking his skull against stone. Before he could catch his breath, the being came hurling down at him. The bardling grabbed a sinuous wrist, slippery with scales, and kicked upward. The being went flying over Kevin’s head, landing with a crash on the cobblestones. The bardling scrambled out of the fountain, thinking in delighted wonder.
