The red-cloaked woman slammed into him, her daggers ringing as Dieredon parried slash after slash. Her speed was nearly equal to the Watcher’s, but it was her fluidity that struck him, and as he launched an offensive to ensure she couldn’t pin his back to the building, he felt as if he were fighting another elf. Her skill with the daggers, however, was not anywhere as finely honed. He parried a thrust to the side, stabbing with his right hand. She twisted, and should have avoided his thrust, but it was just a feint. Instead he closed the distance between them, batting both her daggers outward when she tried to bring them in. Her defenses broken, Dieredon pulled back for a killing thrust.
The Watcher’s heels slammed into his shoulder before he could. Sabers slashed the air where he’d been as Dieredon rolled with the blow, then leapt twice to give himself some space. Both the Watcher and the woman faced him, their weapons clutched tightly in their hands. Dieredon tensed, realizing that, skilled as he was, combined they posed a dangerous fight.
“I have no quarrel with you,” he said to the woman.
“Nor I with you,” she said, her body slanting lower. “But you’re not killing Haern.”
She attacked, and the Watcher followed. Her daggers danced like snakes, and Dieredon could only defend against them with just his left hand, for the Watcher assaulted the other side. The elf felt his skills tested as never before, twisting and shifting as his two knives blocked and parried with nearly every movement he made. The woman increased her ferocity, but Dieredon faked a counter, then launched himself at the Watcher. The two intertwined, a chaotic clash of blades, kicks, and punches. Blood flew.
Dieredon rolled away, his chest stinging from a shallow cut. The Watcher fared no better, two fresh wounds bleeding from his left arm. The woman came at him, refusing to give him rest. He blocked her daggers, shoved them aside, and then caught her with his hilts on the way back. As her body twisted with the blow, he kicked out, delivering a satisfying hit to her midsection. She let out a cry as she staggered away. Dieredon took the time to gain some distance between them, and catch his breath. The Watcher looked ready for another attack, his legs braced for a leap.
“Why do you hunt me?” the man asked, shifting the angle of his sabers every few moments to ensure Dieredon did not anticipate his next move. “I have never struck at the elves before tonight.”
“You stabbed Laryssa and left her dead. There will be no courts for you, no lies, only justice.”
“
Dieredon took advantage of the man’s confusion, breaking into a dead run. When the woman tried to intervene, he slide-kicked, forcing her to leap away to avoid his low slash. He rolled once, then kicked out of it with his knives leading. The Watcher was ready, unafraid to meet his charge. Knife and saber collided, the alley ringing with the sound of their contact. Dieredon’s arms weaved at the very limits of their speed, and the Watcher met him blow for blow. Each scored another pair of cuts, shallow wounds that would do little else than bleed.
Again came the damn woman, forcing Dieredon to split his attention. This time the Watcher did not fall for a feint needed to buy him separation. The elf knew he must flee, but the two pressed, eventually linking up side to side as they stabbed and thrust. Dieredon’s knives were a twisting blur, viciously slamming away every attempted hit. At last they overextended, and instead of countering, Dieredon tried to run. He underestimated their speed. The woman kicked out a leg, and as he rolled, another foot connected with his sides. He continued until striking a wall, hitting his head hard. As he felt his balance tremble, he stumbled to one knee, still attempting to block the coming killing blow, but it did not come. Not yet.
“Justice,” said the Watcher, sounding very much out of breath. “I never attacked Laryssa, you fool. How is killing me justice?”
“Your mark,” Dieredon said, slowly standing. His stomach was doing flips, but he tried to keep a calm facade. “You drew it in her own blood.”
“My mark? How do you know that, Dieredon? Who told you?”
The Watcher’s apparent confusion left Dieredon puzzled. He’d thought the symbol common knowledge, a well-known calling. What was this man trying to get at before killing him?
“Our ambassador,” Dieredon said, refusing to lie. “He said the open eye is yours.”
The Watcher glanced once at the woman, and she mouthed the name ‘Alyssa’. He stood up straight, falling out of his combat stance.
“Listen to me, elf, and listen closely. I have not used that symbol in over two years, and when I did, it was hundreds of miles from here, in Veldaren, a city of humans.
Suddenly it was Dieredon’s turn to be confused. Neither the woman, nor the Watcher, looked ready to kill him despite their conflict. Trying to force his mind to work through the pain, he shook his head. No, what they were insinuating…it couldn’t be right.
“I didn’t come here to cause a war,” the Watcher insisted. “I didn’t attack Laryssa. You must trust me.”
“And why would I dare trust a human?”
The Watcher looked to the distance, and he clearly had something pressing on his mind.
“Because I can prove my innocence,” he said. He pointed at him with the tip of his saber. “What will it be?”
Dieredon looked to them both, stood to his full height, and then answered.
24
Haern rushed through the quiet streets fast as his tired legs could carry him. Not far behind hurried Zusa, limping slightly after the brutal kick she’d suffered. They weaved through back alleys, doing everything they could to maintain a straight path. What time they had was limited, and it might already be too late.
When they arrived at the safe house given to them, Haern paused to gather his breath. Heart in his throat, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The Wraith leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed. The unhidden lower part of his face was wrapped in a smile. Alyssa was nowhere to be seen.
“About time,” said the Wraith. “I expected you here an hour ago.”
“Why?” Haern asked as Zusa slipped in beside him. “How could you betray us so?”
The Wraith pulled off his hood. When he spoke, his voice changed, more forceful and deep.
“That is such a vague question,” said Graeven, pulling his sword off his back. “You’ll need to do better.”
“Where is Alyssa?” Zusa asked, taking a step forward. Graeven turned and directed his smile to her.
“Such care, such love. You’ve been an unexpected nuisance, Zusa, but not enough to truly cause any worry. If you want to find Alyssa, she’s hanging from a post at the docks. It shouldn’t be long before the merchants have her. I doubt her fate will be kind once those ships land…nor will it be very long.”
Zusa drew her daggers, and they shook in her hands.
“I thought you wanted peace,” Haern said, freeing his own blades. “I thought you never wanted war.”
“Ignore the words I’ve spoken in this guise, Watcher, and think on what I told you in Ingram’s prison. This city is wretched, a blight on Dezrel. It’s full of hate, murder, and it will only grow worse when Violet floods its streets. I’ve done what’s needed to set things right. We’ll burn it to the ground, all of it. There’s still time for you to join me. We do not have to be enemies.”
“I need to get to the docks,” Zusa whispered, and Haern nodded.
“Go,” he told her. “And may Ashhur help us all.”
With her gone, Graeven paced before him, his eyes boring into him.
“You won’t win on your own,” he said.
“I know.”
Dieredon stepped in through the open door, knives in hand. Seeing him, Graeven sadly shook his head.
“You’ve always been incapable of performing the simplest tasks.”
“Why did you bring me here?” Dieredon asked. “Why strike at our royalty? Would you slaughter Ceredon’s own daughter to achieve your ends?”
“I never struck her!” Graeven said, anger flaring in his eyes for the first time. “I twisted her tragedy to help my cause, and it sickened my stomach doing even that. As for why…you’ve lived among the humans. You’ve seen their destructive behavior, their riots, their sins. Surely you should understand what I have done, what still needs to be done.”
