Shadow's master

— and leapt back as an axe swept across his peripheral vision. The blade struck the wall just above his shoulder in a shower of wooden splinters.

“No!” Shikari shouted. “I need him alive!”

Caim turned and slashed with his knives, but pulled up as Malig's bearded face reflected in the firelight. He dove under Malig's arm and circled around behind him. “Mal, what the fuck has gotten into-?”

Caim hissed as a pack of shadows adhered to his torso, sinking through his jacket and shirt to cleave to his skin with frigid claws. Before he could react, a spear thrust from out of the gloom. The point struck him below the nipple, but deflected from the layer of shadows instead of piercing his lung. Dray followed up with a low counter- thrust, but Caim batted the spear away. What in the hells was going on? Malig and Dray were crazy, sure, but not this crazy. Caim blocked Dray's next thrust and got in close, but instead of burying his knives in his companion's heart, he cracked him in the forehead with a pommel butt. Dray didn't even blink, but swung his spear across his body and forced Caim to leap back. Malig recovered his broadaxe and lumbered at him again.

The Eregoths came at him side by side. By the firelight, their eyes were black as squid ink. Caim retreated until his heels hit the wall behind him. His companions came on with silent intensity, aiming stroke after stroke that he deflected or evaded. They moved slowly, like they were swimming through oil, but he had nowhere to go. Behind them, Shikari hummed a strange, hypnotic song while the flames twisted in her palms, looking almost like two small people as she manipulated them back and forth. Every time she turned her wrist, the Eregoths lurched forward.

Caim twisted sideways to avoid a stab from Dray as Malig chopped down with a two-handed swing. A gap opened between them, and Caim lunged through it. Before he could take three steps, a wall of orange flames burst from the floor in front of him. Caim jumped back from the hellish heat. Dray and Malig turned with jerky motions and were once again attacking him. Caim ducked under an axe stroke aimed at his neck, pivoted on his heel, and threw.

The seax knife spun pommel over tip through the flaming curtain and struck with a wet thud. The flames evaporated in puffs of smoke from Shikari's hands as she looked down at the steel protruding between her breasts. A slithering sensation ran through Caim, like an invisible line between him and the sorceress. As Shikari collapsed to the floorboards, a burst of energy exploded inside him. It happened so fast he hardly understood what had occurred. As the strange vitality surged through his body, Caim lifted his suete against the next attack from the Eregoths, but they were standing motionless, weapons hanging limp in their hands.

With effort, Caim took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. Dray groaned. Malig shuddered and snorted as if he'd been plunged into an icy lake. But their eyes had cleared of the black film.

“What the-?” Dray started to ask, but his voice was hoarse.

Caim grabbed them both and shoved them toward the door. Once the Eregoths were out, Caim darted back inside the burning room. The curtain of flames had spread to the walls and ceiling, feeding on the stone as if it were kindling. He started to form a portal for a short hop through the fire, but then recalled the shadow-jumping he'd seen the shadow swordsman do during their brief duel. Without knowing exactly what to do, Caim concentrated on being on the other side of the room. Nothing happened except that the fire burned closer and sweat dripped down his face from the intense heat. He almost gave up, but then a sharp pain pinched behind his eyes. His stomach twisted upside down, and he landed on his feet, standing over Shikari's body.

She was still smiling. Blood covered her chest, drenching her amulet. The black tower stared up at Caim, the same icon that had been etched into Soloroth's armor. He yanked his knife from her corpse, grabbed their gear, and used the new energy coursing through him to make a proper portal.

Smoke seeped through the seams of the stone walls as Caim emerged from the house. Dray was bent over in the courtyard, coughing. Malig watched the spreading fire with a dull stare. His beard was singed at the bottom.

Caim wiped his hand down his face, and it came away black with soot. His neck and shoulder ached from where Hoek, or whatever he was, had gouged him.

“What happened?” Dray asked when he could breathe.

Malig shook his head. “I had this gods-awful dream. I was lying abed, and someone was talking in my head, but I couldn't move. Then I saw Caim.”

Dray squinted at Caim. “I heard the voice, too. I wanted to kill you.”

Caim saddled his horse. “It's over. Let's move.”

“Where are we going?” Malig asked.

“I've got a plan, of sorts. But you might not like it.”

Malig grunted. “What a sheep-fucking surprise.”

Caim sat by the window of his new room, looking out over the town at the pale cliffs in the distance. After the fire they'd found another boardinghouse, but he hadn't been able to sleep. The influx of energy buzzed inside him.

He flexed his wrists as he watched the dingy gray of twilight slip into full night. His hands had finally stopped shaking, but the feelings inside him remained. He tried not to think about the thing Hoek had turned into and what it meant, or how he would have killed Malig and Dray if his knife-throw hadn't ended Shikari's sorcery. His focus was on the upcoming mission. Kit, if you can hear me, come back. I need you more than ever.

The truth of that had sunk in these past couple days. She was the only person who understood him. She would know what to do, would know if he was just throwing his life away on a hopeless dream. I'll listen to you, Kit. Just please come back.

There was a knock at the door. Dray peered in. “You ready?”

Caim pulled on his cloak and checked his knives. Malig waited in the hallway. Both men carried heavy sacks that smelled of oil and paraffin. Without speaking, they went downstairs and out the back. He'd told them his plan before they retired. Neither of them liked it, but they had as much at stake in this mission as he did. “My brother's shade must be avenged,” Dray had said. Whether it was true or not, he couldn't say no after bringing them this far. They were all damned in this together.

Few people on the street paid them any mind. Caim peered into every nook and shadow, glanced down every alley as they made their way through the maze of stone buildings until they reached the plains. The hills glimmered in the dusk like they were coated in stardust. Caim concentrated on his core, where his powers originated, and suppressed them like he had before. It was more difficult because the new energy inside him wanted to burst free, but he felt better when the sensations subsided. He couldn't say why, except that the citadel unnerved him less with his powers masked.

“Saronna's dugs,” Malig swore when they reached the top of the cliffs. “My da used to tell stories about giants who built castles in the north. I think he must have been right.”

“Keep your mind on the job,” Caim said.

The outer ramparts rose to the sky like a colossal black wave poised over them. Red lanterns shone at the front of the gatehouse. Caim led them east around the curve of the wall, searching for a flaw in the design, but the walls were solid, the massive towers all sloped and positioned to provide enfilading fire. By the time they had hiked nearly a third of the way around the citadel without finding anything they could exploit, Caim halted. Motioning for his crew to stay put, and praying they obeyed for once, he crept forward to a span of the wall where the curvature appeared to form a blind spot where neither of the two nearest towers could view it directly. A quick inspection confirmed his suspicion. Perhaps there had been a gate planned for this section, or an imperfection in the bedrock called for a different configuration. Whatever the reason, he didn't waste time. He hissed for the others to come.

While Dray and Malig uncoiled ropes from their satchels, Caim tied one end to the back of his belt. Then he found his first handholds and started up. The curtain wall was too high for a grapnel, but the gaps between the massive stones were wide enough to provide good purchase. He wedged his fingers into these seams and hoisted himself up, foot by foot. His arms and shoulders began to burn from the exertion, but then he settled into a comfortable rhythm. Scaling the bartizan at the summit was the hardest part. Caim had to dangle by his arms as he searched for the holds around and over the stone projection. He crawled through a crenel and dropped into a crouch