'Gracious, no. I was just dangling something you couldn't have in front of you. No reprieves.'
Stryke lunged at her, bringing up his sword. She quickly moved her hands in some unfathomable way.
He froze. Try as he might, not all his strength could make him move. He stood like a statue, sword outstretched, body tensed for the thrust.
She laughed at him. Then she called out in some guttural, arcane tongue. Half a minute later two of her lumbering zombies shambled in.
'You know what to do,' she told them without bothering to look their way.
They shuffled to Stryke and began pawing at his clothes. Their soft, bony fingers probed his pockets. Yellow skeletal hands searched for his belt pouches. This close, the foul smell of the creatures was overpowering. But Stryke was powerless to shift, no matter how hard he struggled.
Inevitably one of the goons found the pouch of stars. When he upended it and they tumbled to the carpet, Jennesta's face lit up with an awful fire. She rushed to the spot, clouting aside the zombie who tipped the bag, as though in penalty for his disrespect. Kneeling, she took up the stars with reverence. If she was disappointed at finding only four, she didn't show it. Which some small part of Stryke's writhing mind found strange.
'These will give me a power you can't imagine,' she boasted, flaunting the stars at Stryke. 'I won't have a mere realm. I'll have realms. The dominance of not one but many worlds. And it starts with an orc army as obedient as these two.' Jennesta nodded at the undead. 'Pity you won't see it.' She lifted a hand.
The double doors crashed open. Haskeer charged in, carrying a wooden bench, which he casually tossed to the floor. Coilla was right behind him, sword and dagger in hand.
The intrusion threw Jennesta, and for an instant her attention wandered, breaking whatever hold she had on Stryke. Freed, he carried through with the suspended thrust, no matter that Jennesta was no longer in front of him, and almost fell. Shaking himself, he made ready to strike again.
Coilla got there first. As Stryke thawed she sent a knife Jennesta's way. It struck her, hilt first, on the temple. The sorceress cried out, part in pain, mostly in fury. There was something like blood on her forehead, had it been blood's colour. Drawing back from what may well have been the only physical blow she had ever received, Jennesta called out in the secret tongue.
The pair of zombies immediately became animated. Moving surprisingly fast, they obeyed their mistress and attacked. Haskeer ran to meet them, straight off plunging his blade into the nearest one's chest. The tip erupted from the zombie's back, but in a plume of dust, not a surge of blood. Haskeer wrenched the sword free. The zombie, still standing, swayed for a second. Then he carried on as though nothing had happened. Haskeer tried again, and this time his sword went well into the belly. The zombie hardly broke step.
'We can't kill 'em!' Haskeer roared.
'Depends how you do it!' Coilla shouted back. Rushing at the next goon she gave a swipe that completely severed his arm. The limb fell uselessly to the floor, the zombie kept coming.
'Chop 'em into bits?' Haskeer queried.
He didn't get an answer. There was a commotion outside the wrecked double doors. Men shouting and running feet, heading their way.
More of a threat as far as Coilla was concerned, Jennesta seemed to have gathered herself, if the twisted expression she wore and the gestures she was making with her hands meant anything.
Coilla saw a route out. It was risky, and could have killed them as easily as staying here. But it was a chance. She grabbed Stryke and Haskeer's arms and drew them to her.
'Window!' she yelled.
'Huh?' Haskeer grunted.
' Window! ' she repeated, pointing to the floor-to-ceiling framed glass doors at one end of the room.
Haskeer got it. 'Right!'
They began to run as shouting guards spilled into the room. Stryke, between Coilla and Haskeer, and as much propelled by them as his own efforts, was still woozy. His head cleared instantly when he saw the windows rushing towards them.
He managed to yell, 'She's got the sta — '
A cacophony of breaking glass and snapping wood drowned him out.
Then they were in silence. Falling. Seeing flashes of stars through cloud in the night sky. Followed by the tops of other buildings and the dark ground.
They landed in the moat quite close together, all things considered. The fall hurt them, but didn't irreparably harm them, though the water was cold and foul enough to instantly sober them. They swam to the edge and scrambled out. Eldo and Noskaa were waiting tensely nearby. All five melted into the night.
They left Jennesta playing with her toys.
'I can't believe you left it here!' Stryke grumbled as they were let into the current safe house, their clothes still wringing.
' I can't believe you took yours with you!' Coilla snapped back. 'Talk about a lion's den.'
'I thought carrying the stars was the best way of protecting them. I was wrong. But that doesn't excuse you putting yours at risk.'
'Stryke, if I'd had it on me back there she could have got them all. I thought hiding it was the safest.'
'And didn't tell me.'
'You only would have got… the way you are about it now. You need never have known.'
Moving into the house, they heard a commotion. Resistance orcs were hurrying to and fro, and there was a crowd in a side room.
'Oh, no,' Coilla groaned.
'What?' Stryke said, alarm rising.
'Better find out.' She headed for the crowded room, Stryke right behind her.
Elbowing in, they found Brelan, Chillder and Jup at the heart of it. They were staring at a small strongbox lying on the floor, its lid wrenched open.
'How did you fare?' Jup asked expectantly.
'We didn't,' Coilla admitted.
There were groans and words of sympathy from the crowd, which was increasing.
'What's going on here?' Stryke said.
'Oh,' Jup replied, 'yes, it's strange, and disturbing.'
'What happened?'
'It seems somebody broke in and cracked open this strong-box.'
'Got in? In this place? With so many around and all the security?'
'There's signs. Stove-in window at the back. Lock broke on this door.' He nodded to the entrance. 'What we're trying to figure out is who the box belongs to.'
'It's mine,' Coilla said.
'Don't tell me,' Stryke pleaded in an undertone.
Grim faced, she gave him a tiny nod.
'Yours?' Chillder said.
'I had it hidden behind that loose brick over there.' Coilla indicated the spot where the brick had been discarded, next to its empty hollow.
'Whoever it was, found it,' Brelan said. 'But they don't seem to have taken anything else. Was there something valuable in it?'
She paused for a moment, then answered, 'No, just some keepsakes. Junk mostly, but I was fond of it.'
'Why should anybody steal junk?' Chillder asked, her gaze fixed on Coilla.
'More important,' Brelan said, 'is how? If somebody can get in here this easily our security needs beefing up. A lot.'
'If it was somebody from outside,' Stryke offered.
'What?'
'There's another possibility.'
Brelan frowned as realisation dawned. 'Not that again, Stryke. I've told you the loyalty of our group is — '
'I'm just saying it's possible. So would it hurt to check everybody here?'
