last she stumbled, and knew with absolute certainty they would fall upon her. She cried out, desperate for someone to save her, when the dark-red world turned bright.
Zusa opened her eyes to see her door cracked open, allowing a sliver of light to lance across her face. She sat up, suddenly aware of her full bladder.
“Who’s there?” she asked.
The door opened further, and Alyssa stepped inside.
“Let me light a lamp,” she said, closing the door for a few moments. Zusa took the time to relieve herself, then replace the chamber pot underneath her bed. Alyssa returned with a thin punk, the tip burning. She lit two separate lamps, giving a soft gold glow to the room. With the door closed once more, she sat down on the bed beside her.
“How long did I sleep?” Zusa asked, rubbing her face with her hands. Normally she could awaken fully alert, but this time, it felt like sleep clung stubbornly to her mind.
“About ten hours,” Alyssa said. “It is late afternoon.”
Something gnawed at her, and then Zusa figured it out.
“Where is Haern?”
“Captured,” Alyssa said. Zusa felt a lump build in her throat, and then she saw her mistress’s hands were shaking. “Ingram has him in his dungeon. He plans on hanging him tonight, come sundown.”
Zusa tried to think, and she bit down on her tongue to focus through the use of pain. It had to be remnants of Violet, she decided. Seeing Alyssa’s troubled mind, she thought of what else must have happened. Ten hours gone…that meant…
“What of the meeting?” she asked. “Did that go well?”
Alyssa sighed.
“There are so many there. Laryssa and the elves, Ingram, his petty lords, and of course the Merchant Lords made sure their presence was felt. Nothing but an hour of shouting and accusations. Twice I swore it would turn to bloodshed. My head still hurts after that nonsense.”
“Anything resolved?”
The question evidently amused Alyssa immensely, and she laughed like one reaching the end of her sanity.
“Ulrich and his Lords demanded concessions of land and a halt to the killings, Ingram implied he agreed without ever saying so, and the elves threatened war should they lose a single acre of forest. Laurie and I were the only ones who even knew the word compromise. Perhaps tomorrow will go better. I hope so…”
“Forget about tomorrow,” Zusa said, wrapping her arms around Alyssa and pulling her close. Resting her head atop Alyssa’s, she stared into the flickering shadows of her room. “Haern hangs tonight, and I know that troubles you. Give me the word, and I will go.”
“I can’t. I won’t let you get yourself killed trying to break into Ingram’s dungeon.”
Zusa let her go, then removed her dress. She still felt weak, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if her fever remained. None of that mattered. Sitting naked on the bed, she began to put on her dark wrappings. Alyssa watched for a while, as if debating, then stood.
“Let me get you something to eat,” she said.
“Thank you.”
By the time Alyssa returned with a tray of bread and meat, Zusa had covered all but her face. She tore into the bread, relishing the taste of butter on her tongue. When she had first woken, her stomach felt cramped and angry, and she hadn’t thought she could eat much. Smelling the meat, and tasting the bread, had awakened a hunger that shocked her. She devoured the entire meal, wiped her lips on her wrist, and then began to cover her face with the last of her cloth wrappings.
“Don’t get yourself killed,” Alyssa finally said, stepping behind Zusa and taking the cloth from her hands. “I’ll hate myself forever if you do.”
“You’ll hate yourself even more if you do nothing,” Zusa said, smiling underneath her mask. When Alyssa finished tying the last strand, she gave her a kiss on the forehead.
“Guards are nothing to me,” Zusa said. “Rest, and learn what you can about the Violet. I’ll return with Haern. I promise.”
“I’ll show it to Laurie,” Alyssa said. “And I’ll hold you to that promise.”
Zusa shot her a wink as she put on her cloak.
“I’ve defeated dark paladins, mercenaries, and even fought the Watcher to a standstill. I fear no dungeons, Alyssa, no jailors. When I return, it will be with Haern, my promise unbroken.”
Without another word she grabbed her daggers and dashed down the hall.
In pure darkness Haern sat and listened to the distant moans. He could see their vague shapes through the bars of his cell, lit by light of slender windows that he now lacked. Not long after Alyssa’s departure, the jailor had come with a few bricks to jam into the window.
“Consider yourself lucky,” the jailor had said. “They just want it dark. No clubs or pins for you. Damn shame. I’d have loved to make you sing.”
Haern had given him no reply, for he had no fear of torture. He was the King’s Watcher of Veldaren, son of Thren Felhorn. To think a single lowly jailor could break him in a day was insulting.
Hour by unknown hour, time passed. Haern tried praying to Ashhur, but each time he thought of the kid he’d killed in Veldaren, and of those who’d swung from gallows, his name on the lips of their executioner. His prayers stumbled and ended. Worse was Senke’s amulet of the Golden Mountain. They’d taken it from him before chaining him to the wall. He would have given anything to have that meager comfort hanging from his neck. Thinking of Senke only opened old wounds, and he tried to push the memory away, no easy task in the suffocating darkness. All the while, the wound in his shoulder ached with steady throbs.
If he slept, he didn’t know it, but he must have. Something pressed against his shoulder, and he startled awake. He saw nothing close, but then a voice whispered in his ear. The sound chilled Haern’s blood, and for the first time, forced him to admit how vulnerable and helpless he was.
“Greetings, Watcher,” whispered the Wraith. Haern could almost imagine his grin floating beside him. “I must admit, finding you chained like this disappoints me greatly.”
“Why are you here?” Haern asked, keeping his own voice a whisper. He had no doubt the Wraith would execute him immediately should he try to catch the attention of the guards.
“To talk to you, of course. Why else? I’ve given some thought to our last discussion, and I feel I judged you too quickly. I cannot have misread you so thoroughly after your domination of Veldaren. You see, Watcher, you’ve been dragged into a game with many pieces, yet you are ignorant of their positions on the board. There are few rules, and already you’ve broken one.”
“And what rule is that?”
“Never, ever let compassion blind you to the truth.”
The Wraith chuckled. Something slender and sharp ran along Haern’s neck. When it pricked open a tiny cut, Haern didn’t even flinch.
“Tell me, Watcher, do you know why the elves are here? How about the Trifect? Do you think Alyssa came here solely because of me? And what of the Merchant Lords? Have you wondered about their part to play in this, or do you even know who they are? You would condemn me for killing members from all parties, yet you know so little. You killed leaders of the Trifect and the thief guilds. The men and women I kill are no less guilty.”
The side of the blade smacked the side of Haern’s face, and he felt blood trickle down his cheek from another cut.
“Tell me, how am I different than you?”
“I never reveled in my killings.”
“You are wrong,” the Wraith whispered, his tone chilling. “These killings give me no pleasure, no joy. Perhaps with some of them I am amused by their deaths, but they are the truly despicable. Surely you cannot deny the same feeling as you slaughtered Veldaren’s worthless scum.”
Haern turned toward the Wraith, and in the darkness, he thought he could see the faintest outline of the man’s hood.
“Then why the grin?” he said.
