thigh before darting back. It was a hard blow, delivered with precision. Dagii grunted and nearly went down, his leg numbed, but Ekhaas appeared to support him. Eyes flashing with anger, she drew breath to sing.
Chetiin’s hand dipped into a pouch at his waist and emerged to fling ash into her face. Fine gray particles floated in an expanding cloud. Ekhaas’s eyes went wide and her song turned into a fit of choking. Chetiin leaped away from her and Dagii and turned to face Geth again, dropping into a crouch once more. His wide eyes were hard, his big ears cupped, his teeth bared-and through them he spat, “Geth, I didn’t kill Haruuc!”
The protest was so feeble, so ridiculous, that the only answer Geth could manage was a growl that rolled out of his belly. Dropping into a matching crouch, he reached deep inside himself, drew on his fury… and shifted.
The lycanthrope ancestors of the shifter race had the power to become animals, but as their bloodlines had tangled together, that ability had been diluted. Shifters couldn’t take animal form, but they could assume the animal traits of their ancestors. Some shifters could manifest sharp claws or put on a burst of feral speed. Geth’s gift was sheer toughness.
The shifting spread through him like a heat in his blood. His skin thickened into leathery hide. His hair turned even more coarse and heavy. A sense of invulnerability washed over him. The growl turned into a shout and he surged forward, spinning Wrath in deadly arcs, holding his gauntlet ready to block any blow Chetiin attempted or to bash him should he try to skip aside again.
But the shaarat’khesh elder fell back before the attack. Light and quick, he swayed back and forth, looking for a way around, but Geth kept him contained. He pressed hard, forcing Chetiin backward until the goblin was caught in a corner of the square. His face tightened. Geth lunged.
And Chetiin turned to push off one wall onto the next and back to the first, each leap taking him higher. Wrath struck stone, grating out a shower of orange sparks. Geth twisted around to follow Chetiin as the goblin made a final leap from the wall and soared over his head.
He landed like a cat. Geth charged again, whirling as he swung. When Chetiin tried to dodge, he was ready for him. His gauntlet caught him with a punch that sent him tumbling. Chetiin rolled to his feet with blood trickling from his mouth. He leaped away as Geth came in again, drawing a dagger from one of the sheaths on his forearms and circling well away from the shifter.
“Why would I kill Haruuc?” Chetiin asked. “He was my friend.”
“You said he needed to be stopped. You thought he’d discovered the power of the rod.” Geth flung the words Chetiin had spoken over Haruuc’s body back at him. “You did what you had to do.”
“I didn’t.”
Geth saw his eyes flick toward Dagii, standing on his own again, and Ekhaas, able to breathe once more. In a moment, they would have the advantage. He slid forward. Chetiin’s eyes snapped to him and he slid back.
“You’re an assassin,” Geth growled. “An assassin from a clan of assassins!”
Chetiin’s ears pulled back. “Then why would I kill Haruuc in full view of every warlord in Darguun? Why would I leave Witness, a treasure of the shaarat’khesh, behind? Why would I put my clan in danger?”
He threw the questions like knives and they found their target. Geth hesitated. Why would Chetiin have let himself be seen? He could have struck from the shadows in some quiet corridor. He could have slipped into Haruuc’s own chambers. He could have arranged a quiet death for the lhesh so that it didn’t look like an assassination at all And in the instant that he hesitated, Chetiin struck. He threw himself forward in a swift tumble. His leg swept around and, small as the goblin was, kicked the shifter’s legs out from under him. Geth slammed down onto his back. Chetiin jumped on his chest, one heel kicking the wind out of him as he landed. The point of his dagger pricked the skin beneath Geth’s chin.
“I wasn’t the one who killed Haruuc,” Chetiin said.
He held the dagger under Geth’s chin a moment longer, then vaulted off to land well away from him, Ekhaas, and Dagii. Geth thrust himself up, wheezing as he sucked in air.
“Geth,” said Ekhaas, “I think we should listen to him.”
“Why?” Geth croaked.
“Because we’re alive. He could have killed any of us from the shadows before we even knew he was there, but he didn’t. He could have killed you just now, but he didn’t.”
Geth looked at her and at Dagii, then at Chetiin. “I saw you. You killed Haruuc right in front of me.”
“It wasn’t me. A disguise. An illusion, maybe.” Chetiin remained in his crouch, dagger ready. “Blood of six kings, I swear it.” He gestured. “Put away Wrath.”
“No.”
“Geth-” Dagii said. The hobgoblin sheathed his sword. So did Ekhaas. Geth grimaced and put Wrath away as well. Chetiin made his dagger disappear into the sheath on his forearm with a smooth gesture. Geth glared at him with narrowed eyes. A part of him wanted to trust the goblin elder. He’d been a wise and capable friend. The rest of him still stung from Haruuc’s death and Chetiin’s betrayal of their friendship.
“Why should we believe you?” he demanded.
“For the reasons I said. If I wanted to kill Haruuc, I wouldn’t have done it the way that it happened. It was far too public. If you believe nothing else I say, believe that.” He spread his hands. “You know I believed in Haruuc’s vision of a stable Darguun as much as anyone else. Such an obvious killing, especially when Haruuc had not named an heir, would have served no purpose.”
“Except to separate him from the rod if he’d discovered its true power,” said Geth.
Chetiin scowled and jerked his head at the windows around the square. “This isn’t the place to discuss secrets,” he said. “Come with me. There’s a place we can talk.” His face softened. “Trust me. On Haruuc’s memory and my word, I’m telling you the truth.”
Geth glanced at Ekhaas and Dagii. Ekhaas’s ears flicked and she nodded curtly. He looked back to Chetiin. “No tricks,” he said.
The goblin nodded. “After the last two weeks I don’t think I have any tricks left.”
The place he led them to was a fragment of brick wall standing in the middle of large swath of burned-out ruins. The nearest surviving buildings were some distance away.
“One of the fires that burned on the night of Haruuc’s death destroyed this area,” said Chetiin. “It will be reclaimed, but between the mourning period and the games, no one has had time. We won’t be overheard.” He squatted down in the shelter of the wall and looked up at them. “I’ve been watching you for the last few days, waiting for a chance to speak with you alone,” he said. “I saw you leave Khaar Mbar’ost tonight and I followed you to the tiefling’s house. His shutters fit badly. I know your plans. Who thought of creating a false rod?”
Ekhaas answered. “Midian. When he returned.”
Chetiin nodded. “I heard what you told Tenquis about the rod’s influence on Haruuc. Maabet, I should have seen it. Nothing he did in the last days of his life was like him.”
“You said as much when you argued with him just before his death,” said Geth. “You said, ‘You’re not the Haruuc I’ve known for so many years.’”
“If we knew truth when we spoke it, we’d all be seers.” Chetiin’s mouth tightened. “I didn’t guess that the rod had a hold on him. If anything I would have guessed that he had begun to grasp the rod’s power.”
“That’s what we thought you believed,” Geth said. “You also told Haruuc that he would destroy what he’d built unless he was stopped.”
“And you thought that I had followed through and stopped him.” Chetiin fell silent for a moment before adding, “I would have considered it. We swore to keep the rod’s powers secret by any means necessary.” He glanced at each of them in turn. “But we all swore to that. I wouldn’t have acted on my own. I would have come to you.”
“Then what happened?” asked Dagii.
Chetiin made a face and his ears folded down. “I was careless. When I left Haruuc after our argument-after he ordered me out of Khaar Mbar’ost-I was angry. I forgot the first law of the shaarat’khesh: watch and listen. Someone put a crossbow bolt in my back. Poisoned.”
Breath hissed between Geth’s teeth. “Just like Haruuc. Did you see who did it?”
“No.” Chetiin shook his head. “The bolt was bad. The poison was worse. It worked fast, burning in me. It made me weak and blind. Strandpine sap, I think. A big dose, maybe as much as they used on Haruuc.”
“And you’re smaller than he was. How come you’re not dead?”
“An assassin who works with poisons for many years develops a resistance to them,” the goblin said. “As it
