Shadowbane

The youth bowed gallantly. “Rhett Hawkwinter, my lady-your loyal servant.”

“Charmed.” Myrin raised one eyebrow. “Or possibly evoked. It depends.”

“I’m-I’m not sure I know what that means, Lady Witch-Queen.”

She shrugged. “As to your question, you may leave, but I’m needed here.”

“What do you mean?” Kalen asked.

Myrin squared her shoulders and faced Kalen without hesitation. “This city is sick, Kalen. It needs someone who can help feed the people, put a stop to the violence, and start rebuilding. Why not me?” Myrin put out her arms. “Here I am, a queen-one of the Five High Captains of Luskan-with a powerful gang at my disposal. Why should I cast that aside, when I have the opportunity to help so many people?”

“Gods,” Rhett said. “That’s … well said, my lady. What courage-what nobility!”

“What naivete,” Kalen mocked. “You can’t think you can fix Luskan. You can’t-”

“You say that as though you were an expert on what I can and can’t think,” she retorted. “I’ve already started paring back the Rats’ burglaries and begun rebuilding some of the nearby houses. I plan to disperse food from the larders next. And then-”

Frustrated anger filled Kalen, even as Myrin enumerated her plan. She was smarter than this-she had to see the jaws of the trap closing around her. And yet she persevered in the deception-a happy victim. Was it willful blindness?

Rhett was listening to it all with a beatific expression on his face.

The whole thing made Kalen sick to his stomach. Myrin had to see it. If he could just explain it fully, she would understand.

“Look into his mind,” Kalen said. “Steal his thoughts. You’ll see that this is a trap.”

“Steal his thoughts?” Rhett looked warily at Myrin. “You can do that, my lady?”

“She’s spellscarred,” Kalen said. “She absorbs magic and memories.”

Myrin glared at Kalen. “It doesn’t work that way,” she said. “And even if it did, Toytere’s done nothing against me. I’ve no reason to breach his trust.”

“Trust?” Kalen grasped his head. “This is a trap. You must know that.”

“No, actually.” Myrin looked at him, all innocence. “I cannot imagine why you think I ‘must know’ that, much less believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Kalen said below his voice.

“What are you saying, Kalen?” Myrin’s face went red. “That I’m being a foolish girl for believing I can make a difference? Is that it?”

“Lady,” Rhett said diplomatically, “I’m sure he would never imply something so-”

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Kalen grasped Myrin’s arm. “You’re being a fool.”

Myrin tried to pull away, but Kalen held her fast. Her motion ended up drawing them closer together. He could see her nostrils flaring in anger and the blood beating in her throat.

“Look,” she said. “The simple fact is, I’m staying. There’s absolutely nothing you can do about it, short of taking me out of here by force or trickery. Is that your plan? Kalen?”

Kalen breathed hard. She was so close-their faces almost touching. Her breasts swelled against his chest. From her eyes, he almost thought she wanted him to grab her and haul her off. His mind reveled in the possibility. The thought dashed all sense from his head.

“Myrin,” Kalen implored. “He-Toytere is using you. To what end, I don’t know, but you need to come with me. I want-” He trailed off.

Myrin did not waver. “You want what?” She looked him right in the eye.

To that, Kalen had no response.

“Good,” Myrin said. “Glad we had this talk.”

They broke apart, both of them breathing hard. Rhett stared at them, his eyes wide.

“Myrin,” Kalen said. “Luskan has been an overflowing latrine for a century. Hundreds of folk far better than you or I have tried to save this city and failed.”

She rose to the challenge. Runes of blue fire appeared on her skin and flames started crackling around her fingers. “Better than you, perhaps.”

“Please, just listen to me.”

“I’m staying.” Myrin turned away, then spoke over her shoulder. “And if you really want to help me, then you’ll just have to stay, too.”

Kalen stared at her back. He saw her shoulders trembling, though with anger or something else, he did not know. She was being stubborn to a fault. It reminded him of Cellica, and why not? The two women had been the best of friends, for the short time they’d known each other. Then Cellica had died and the very same assassin had kidnapped and almost killed Myrin. Why couldn’t she see he only wanted to protect her?

“Rhett,” Kalen said. “I’m leaving. Come with me or stay, it’s all the same.”

Myrin stiffened at those words, but she stood firm.

Rhett, on the other hand, loosed a groan of frustration. “Enough,” he said. “I don’t know what passes between the two of you and I don’t care. But for the space of ten breaths, will you listen to a compromise?”

Try as he might to dismiss the boy as an empty-headed noble fop, Kalen found that Rhett often made a great deal of sense. He nodded.

Myrin too was looking at Rhett with an expectant gaze. “Go on,” she said.

“Right,” Rhett said. “No one can leave anyway, what with the plague.”

The plague. In his drive to find Myrin, Kalen had almost forgotten about the plague. He saw again the dead Dustclaw with risen welts and rotting flesh and the things moving under his skin.

“The Fury,” Myrin said crisply. When Kalen and Rhett both looked at her blankly, she explained. “It’s what the people of Luskan call it. No one knows how it spreads, but once you catch it, you go mad-trying to kill anyone and anything in sight. Eventually, you die in a fight or the plague consumes your mind.”

“Right,” Rhett said with a shiver.

“You seem to know much about it,” Kalen said, struggling to keep his voice calm.

“Toy told me.” Again, Myrin seemed to have left their argument completely behind. She spoke efficiently, as though reciting from memory. “It leaves skeletons of all different races, bleached and stripped of any remaining flesh. Some believe it’s a magical malady.” She shrugged, as though that were not just possible but likely.

With a chill, Kalen remembered the skeleton he’d found in the butcher’s shop, wedged into the closet. Had that also been a victim of the plague? And what of the rat, trapped with the bones, who had perished only heartbeats after attaining freedom?

“I propose that we find the source of the plague,” Rhett went on. “If it’s a natural malady, we find out where it comes from and how it spreads. If it’s a wizard, we stop him. In this way, we help Luskan-which makes Lady Darkdance happy.” He looked at Myrin, who nodded. “With the plague gone, the quarantine will end, which makes me happy. I can go back to interesting duties, if Father can get the Guard to take me back.” Rhett smiled. “Also with the quarantine gone, we can leave Luskan, which makes Saer Shadowbane happy. All three of us get what we want. Right?”

“Right.” Myrin looked positively delighted by that suggestion.

Kalen couldn’t help shaking his head, frustrated but impressed. Perhaps there was something to this boy after all. The sword had chosen him-no doubt it had a purpose. But could Kalen take that chance again, after what had happened to Vaelis? He didn’t often pray and he’d sworn never to beg, but right now, he felt like doing both.

Mercy, Threefold God, Kalen said silently.

“Very well,” he said finally. “If Myrin really is in command, we can do this thing. But”-he fixed Myrin with his gaze-“will you promise to leave with us when it’s over?”

“Very well.” Myrin nodded. “That’ll give us, me, plenty of time. To make a difference, I mean.”

Suddenly suspicious, Kalen scrutinized Myrin. She was not saying everything. A year ago, she’d worn her thoughts on her face, but now he couldn’t read her as easily.

“Very well,” Kalen said. “Rhett, you’re Myrin’s warder.”

Myrin’s smile evaporated. “What? Sir Reginald?”

“It’s Rhett, actually,” the lad said. “And me? What about you?”