Red howled in pain, and Tal felt something buffet his back. Heedless, he slashed over and over at Red, tearing his arms to ribbons with huge claws. His mouth opened wide to scream at the man, but only an incoherent snarl came out.
'Get away!' shouted a woman.
Tal glimpsed a muscular woman pulling at Red, trying to lead him into the crowd. The strangler was at her side, staring at Tal in alarm and confusion.
'Look at him!' said the strangler.
Tal's vision blurred. He could see no clear details, but his eyes picked out the slightest movement: the pulse in the strangler's neck, the muscles in the woman's hands as she clutched the wounded man.
'Help me,' said the woman, shouldering the wounded man.
The strangler obeyed, only too glad to flee from whatever he saw when he looked at Tal. His reaction stunned Tal more than the fight. What was happening to him?
The yard was a maelstrom of sounds, but Tal could pick out every voice. Chaney was shouting his name, as were most of the players. The man who'd taunted him from the gallery was yelling, 'Get away! Get the hells away from him!'
A hundred other voices shrieked or panted for breath as players and spectators alike fled the scene of mayhem.
'Tal!' shouted Chaney again.
His voice was coming closer, and Tal turned to spot him. As their eyes met, Chaney stopped dead, staring at Tal's face.
Chaney, Tal tried to say. Again, no words took form. His mouth felt all wrong.
'Tal?' Chaney said. His eyes fell to Tal's hands.
Tal looked down to see two enormous claws where his hands had been. Even as he watched, the black hairs and claws shrank away, leaving only his own human hands.
'It's too soon,' muttered Tal. 'It's still light, and the moon-'
'No time for that,' said Chaney. 'We've got to get out of here.'
He took a step toward Tal, then hesitated, afraid to come closer. The look of fear on his friend's face was even more horrible than the blood on his hands.
The yard was almost empty now, except for the players who stood well away from Tal and Chaney. Their faces were masks of fear and revulsion. Mallion bit his knuckle to stop a scream, while Sivana kept her eyes on the stage floor. Ennis gaped like a blowfish.
'Let's go,' said Chaney. 'This way, before the Scepters get here.'
Dumbly, Tal nodded and followed Chaney onto the stage. All the other players moved away as they passed. Tal held his bloodied hands away from his body as if afraid they might turn on him at any moment.
Outside, the crowd had spread nervously around the playhouse. As Chaney and Tal emerged, someone cried, 'They're the ones!'
Four city Scepters stepped forth, batons in hand. After one look at the blood on Tal's hands and face, they dropped the clubs and drew their swords.
'Get on the ground!' shouted one of them. In a lower voice, he ordered one of his men to summon help. That Scepter sheathed his sword and ran for reinforcements.
'Run for it,' said Chaney.
Even as he spoke, another quartet of Scepters arrived from the opposite direction. There was no way to escape without a fight.
'No,' said Tal. 'It's over.'
He put himself down on the street. Reluctantly, Chaney lay down beside him as the Scepters cautiously approached.
Chapter 15
Tarsakh, 1372 DR
Ronan's face was lily pale. Brigid and Karnek supported him on either side, practically carrying him along the street. Darrow led the way, while Sorcia lagged behind to watch for any sign that the Scepters were following.
'We're going the wrong way,' said Karnek. 'I thought you knew this city.'
'In there,' said Darrow, indicating a vacant alley as they approached the Oxblood Quarter. 'We'll wait until sunset, then circle back.'
'He's still bleeding,' protested Brigid.
'You want to draw a big red line between us and the playhouse?' asked Darrow. 'Here, lay him down, behind that pile of skins.'
'Who put you in charge?' demanded Karnek. He and Brigid lowered Ronan to the ground.
'Rusk did,' said Sorcia.
It wasn't strictly true, but Darrow was glad she had said it. Then he wondered why. Sorcia did nothing without a reason.
'He said nothing about leading the hunt,' said Brigid. 'He told you only to lead us to Uskevren.'
She pulled the bloody tunic away from Ronan's ruined abdomen. Through the ragged wounds, Darrow glimpsed Ronan's glistening intestines. The sight would have made him retch a year earlier, but he had seen far worse since he'd started running with the pack.
'It wasn't a hunt,' said Darrow. 'Rusk said nothing about fighting him. Great Malar! Uskevren is the one who took off Rusk's arm. What were you trying to do down there?'
'Rusk said to test him,' said Karnek. His tone changed from defiant to defensive.
He surrendered his own tunic to Brigid, who folded it before pressing it against Ronan's abdomen. Ronan gasped.
'He said 'take his measure,' ' said Darrow, 'not provoke him into eviscerating you.'
'What were we supposed to learn by watching him strut about and play at fighting?' Brigid had lost none of her anger, but she sounded uncertain.
'Keep your voice down,' hissed Sorcia, watching the alley entrance.
'Don't tell me what to do, bitch,' said Brigid.
The big blonde woman was almost twice the size of the pale elf. Darrow had little doubt of which one would win in a straight fight.
'Stop it, both of you,' he said. 'What's important is to get back without being seen. The last thing we need is to cross Lord Malveen.'
'I'm not afraid of Malveen,' said Karnek.
He had never even seen the strange vampire whose home they claimed as their lair in the city. Rusk planned to face him after sunset, which was soon approaching. The rest of the pack awaited their return in the abandoned warehouse.
'Then you're more stupid than I thought,' said Darrow.
When darkness came, they crept out of the alley. Ronan was too weak to walk, but his bleeding had subsided. The trauma left him muttering and confused, but he might survive the night if Rusk could heal him in time. They kept to side streets when possible, but Darrow abandoned stealth for the broader avenues when traffic seemed light. When passing other pedestrians was unavoidable, Darrow raised his voice in slurred song, hoping observers would mistake them for a group of drunks carrying their friend home. It was a thin ruse, but Karnek joined him in it, and at least Brigid stopped complaining until they reached the warehouse district. There they fell silent and crept through the shadows until they reached House Malveen.
