'Get up,' said Dayul. 'I didn't hear a bone break. You broke me. I'm going to break you.'
'No!' said Ulaan. 'Leave him alone! Please. Please, I'll take him back to his room.'
'You stay out of this,' said the leader. 'Your new master earned this.'
'Get up,' said Dayul, 'or I'll kick in your ribs right there.'
Lewan took a deep breath and began to push himself back to his feet. He didn't even have a knife. The hammer and bow had been his only weapons, and they had been taken from him with ease. He knew that any one of these men could best him easily. They were trained assassins. Out in the wild with a bow, Lewan might have stood a chance. Here, outnumbered in the dark, the best Lewan could hope for was to take his beating and sneak away once they'd finished with him. He stood up.
'Leave him alone!' Ulaan cried.
'Quiet!' The man holding her yanked her arm.
Ulaan twisted in his grasp and slammed the heel of her hand into the man's nose. Lewan heard a crunch as his nose shattered, but he kept his grip on Ulaan. She used it, pulling him close. In three quick motions her hand shot forward, grabbed the man's knife from his sheath, and plunged it into his side just above his belt. He screamed, releasing her, and fell back.
Ulaan turned and dropped into a practiced fighting stance, the bloody knife in her hand. She glanced at Dayul, then fixed her gaze on the leader. 'I serve the Lady Talieth,' she said. 'You fools are interfering with her orders. Dayul, you will apologize to Lewan, then Master Lewan and I will leave. Anything else, and I'll kill you all. Right here. Right now.'
The man she'd stabbed was pushing himself up with one hand, the other grasping his side. Blood leaked between his fingers, and his face was a grimace of pain. 'You're no servant girl.'
'I serve the Lady Talieth'-Ulaan gave Lewan a look full of apology — 'in many ways.'
'You're one of her personal blades,' said Dayul.
'I am.' She gave a curt nod but did not relax from her fighting stance. 'Which means I don't give idle threats. Dayul, if the next words out of your mouth are anything but an apology, you are a dead man.'
Dayul stood before Lewan. He looked down on Lewan, saying nothing, and Lewan could read the reluctance in his stiff stance. But there was fear as well. Now the only question was whether the fear would win out in the man's mind-or his pride.
Behind Dayul was only the darkness between two buildings. The man took a deep breath, but before he could speak, the darkness behind him took form and struck. Whatever it was, the dim light revealed no features other than a slight green sheen. It grabbed Dayul's cloak and pulled with such force that the clasp snapped and the heavy cloth flew away, pulling Dayul onto his back. The man cried out as his injured arm hit the ground, then it turned into a full-throated scream as hands reached out from the darkness and pulled him in.
'What-?' said the man Ulaan had stabbed. At the same time their leader said, 'Inside! Get inside!'
Lewan turned, intending to grab Ulaan and run, but what he saw stopped him. Dark shapes, vaguely humanlike but moving with grace and dexterity beyond any human, were scuttling down the brass pillars of the building-some of them head first, clinging to the wet metal like spiders.
The stabbed man pushed himself to his feet. 'What are they? Gods, Weilus, what are they?'
But Weilus-the leader who'd been doing most of the talking-turned and ran, heading for the hedge that marked the boundary to the garden where only days before Lewan and Talieth had seen Sauk and his men gathering the remains of slaughtered assassins.
'Weilus!' the guard called, but Weilus didn't even make it halfway. A half-dozen of the shapes charged him, quick as leopards, and the man went down screaming.
Ulaan ran to Lewan's side. She still had the bloody knife in her hands, but she looked up at him, fear in her eyes, and said, 'I… I'm sorry, Lewan. I-'
'Later.'
The two remaining guards stood back to back, their eyes wide, their blades trembling in their hands. 'What do we do?' said Ulaan.
Lewan looked around. He could not make out any distinct features on the creatures, just a vague glimmer of green where the light reflected off them, and eyes that burned with a cold light. He stooped to retrieve the bundle with Berun's bow, but couldn't see where the hammer had gone. 'Be ready to run,' he said.
The creatures struck, avoiding Lewan and Ulaan altogether, and swarmed the guards. One of the men lashed out with his sword. Lewan thought the blade struck home, but the creature didn't even slow. Both guards went down shrieking, and Lewan could hear the sharp snap of tendons tearing and flesh being ripped from bones.
Lewan's face ached where Dayul had hit him, and he felt his cheek swelling. The pain snapped Lewan's fear. Part of him knew that he and Ulaan were about to die, but the pain triggered a primal need to survive.
'Back to the room,' he said. 'Run. Run and don't look back. Go!'
He grabbed Ulaan's arm and ran. After seven or eight strides, they came up against a wall of the creatures. Heart pounding in his chest and breath coming in ragged gasps, Lewan pulled Ulaan the other way-right into more of the creatures. They skidded to a halt on the wet gravel.
The dark shapes crouched before them, their posture and slight movements more like animals than people. They made a slight chittering sound, not unlike Perch sometimes did. A few of them came closer, nor charging like they had against the guards, but hesitant and slow. Curious, almost. The faint light from the brazier still reflected from them more green than orange, and Lewan thought their skin-or was it their clothes? — had the texture of leaves. Two stopped, still crouched low, and sniffed the air. One kept coming until it was only an arm's length away. Its scent washed over Lewan. Even in the damp air, it was strong-the scent of gentle rain over new spring blossoms. But wafting through it was a darker aroma, as if the blossoms grew over a predator's den.
The creature stood up straight in a posture that was almost humanlike. Still, something about the twist of the joints or the cant of the thing's head told Lewan that the position was completely unnatural. Close as it was now, Lewan could see that it had the lithe build of the elves, even the pointed ears and tilt of the eyes, but its way of moving made it seem a wild reflection of any elf he had ever seen. The icy light from its gaze was not the shimmer of the brazier, but came from inside the creature's eyes.
Lewan raised a trembling hand-a last effort to keep the thing at bay, though he knew it was probably futile.
But the thing flinched back just slightly, then leaned in, almost hesitantly, and sniffed. Then the thing's mouth opened, and a dark tongue flicked out, like a lizard tasting the air.
'Lewan…' Ulaan rasped. He felt her hands clinging to him, trembling. 'It's… them. The dark things from the Tower. The Old Man's hunters.'
The creature tilted its head, almost birdlike, and looked at Ulaan. The cold light in its eyes flared briefly, almost like a breath washing over an ember, then the creature returned its gaze to Lewan and gave a deep nod, almost a… a sort of bow.
'Lur'ashai,' it said. It stepped aside as one of the other creatures came forward. It also gave a semblance of a bow and then extended both hands. Resting in the creature's palms, glowing faintly, was the hammer Berun had given Lewan.
The creature proffered the hammer. Part of Lewan wondered if this was some sort of bestial warrior's code, if they would not kill him until he had a weapon in hand. But no. If this were Sauk, then maybe. But these creatures were unlike anything Lewan had ever seen or heard of. This had not been battle for them. They had ripped those men apart, like wolves taking down an elk.
Lewan reached out and took the hammer.
'Lur'ashai,' said the first creature. 'Jankhota saalthua.'
'I… don't understand,' said Lewan.
The creature who had carried the hammer suddenly stood to its full height-as tall as Lewan-but was unnaturally stiff, as if bound to some unseen board. Its arms stood out from its sides, and its fingers splayed. The creature's eyes blazed, and it threw its head back.
'Little master,' it said, but Lewan knew at once that the voice from the creature's throat was not its own. No. Lewan recognized this voice. It had spoken to him that day on the mountain. 'The time has come. Your word, Lewan, is all I ask. The time has come.'
