Shadowbane

“What else?” Kalen pulled the blankets up to her chin.

“Well …” Myrin pursed her lips. “Do friends lie next to friends who’ve had too much to drink while they go to sleep? And hold them very tightly?”

He stared at her a long, long moment, fighting to find the right words.

Finally, he brushed an errant blue hair out of her eyes. “No,” he said.

“No?” She gazed at him, saddened. “Are you sure?”

He sat beside her and put out his arm. “They do, however, sit next to friends who’ve had too much to drink. Just until they fall asleep.”

“Oh.” Myrin smiled wanly. “Well then, some of that, if you will.”

She settled into the crook of his arm, her head resting comfortably on his stomach. He couldn’t feel her exactly-not physically-but his spellscar eased as though content, making him more comfortable. She radiated a warmth and ease that made him sleepy as time passed. His worries about Toytere, Eden, and this wretched city drifted, seeming to lose importance as he listened to her steady breathing. He trailed his fingers along her back. She murmured something, then snuggled into him and relaxed further.

From the dimming light through the cracks in the wall, Kalen realized some time had passed. The Luskan day wore on, a morass of chaos around their moment of peace. He had things to do and he couldn’t sit here with Myrin all day-even if he wanted to.

He thought she’d fallen asleep, but when he shifted, Myrin’s lips parted. “I know what happened,” she said. “To Umbra, I mean.”

Kalen nodded. “What?”

“I didn’t kill him. At least, I don’t think I did,” she said. “He died long ago, but the thing inside him-a piece of me, left for me to find-preserved him. But that piece is like a treasure chest I don’t remember how to open. I just don’t.”

“A piece of you?” Kalen asked. “Who left it? Do you know?”

“I think-” Her voice was heavy with sleep. “I think I did.”

Her breathing fell into regular rhythms.

He thought about what Myrin had said-about what she had told him and what she had almost told him. He thought about trust and being a better person.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment.

He slid aside to let her lie alone on the bed, took a pair of manacles from his belt and bound her wrists behind her back.

By day, the Whetstone seemed almost habitable, without the jangling noise and smoky darkness that filled it by night. It made a much worse meeting place at such times, but Eden’s hint to meet here had been clear.

“If possible-and I’m by no means allowing that it is,” Eden said from across the smoke-tainted table. “You look worse than last we met.”

Toytere certainly felt awful. He itched all over, particularly in his arm. He hadn’t slept well in days, thanks to awful dreams of stalking the streets, constantly thirsting for violence. Still, he would remain in control, however much he wanted to rage and strike at someone. And, oh gods, how he wanted to leap across the table and tear out Eden’s throat with his teeth.

“You be speaking your piece,” he said shakily, “or this meeting be done.”

“Indeed.” Eden smirked unprettily. “But about Kalen-you seemed surprised.”

“You knew Little Dren was in the city,” Toytere said. “Yet you didn’t be mentioning your familial tie. ’Tis a dangerous game you be playing.”

“Not as dangerous as you’d think,” Eden said. “You’ll reconsider our bargain?”

“That seems unlikely.” Toytere scoffed. “I told you, deal’s off-”

“My dear halfling,” Eden said. “You’re not seeing the full picture.”

She drew from her robe a yellow-stained scroll.

“What be that?” Toytere asked.

“Something that came into my possession only this night,” she said. “A cure.” Toytere’s mouth dropped open. “But-”

“You have the Fury, halfling,” she said. “Your resolve is remarkable, but the disease is greater than you. You have a day, perhaps another, but soon you’ll go mad and perish. Unless-” She tapped the scroll on the table. “Well?”

Toytere felt like a rat caught in a snare.

“One day, you’ll see yourself the way I see you,” Myrin had said.

His wrist ached something fierce. He felt boiling anger inside.

“What must I do?” he asked.

Eden smiled. “Only that which you wish to do,” she said. “Kill Kalen Dren. But first-let me show you what this scroll offers.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

26 KYTHORN (EVENING)

Scorching daylight dims and twilight falls.

Time to feast.

A male one crushes a female one against the wall of an alley.

They grunt and cry out-hungry for one another.

We hunger for them, too.

Then comes the call-a keening, screeching, rending snarl that rips through us. We cry out, we scream. The other-Murmur-it surges forth. We fight it. We wrestle it back with talon and stinger and mandible.

“What the Hells?” says the male one.

The female one screams.

We surge forward, but the call comes again-bidding us come. We will.

But first.

We coalesce. We become.

The two ones are trapped.

We feed.

“I don’t know about this,” Rhett said for the tenth time.

Kalen shrugged and kept on.

Myrin snored where he’d slung her over his shoulder.

Night had fallen as they set out and the rats of Luskan had come out of their holes. Cloaks over their faces, Kalen and Rhett became just another pair of kidnappers. None blocked their path through the city.

Getting past the wall was easy enough. A jar of alchemist’s fire tossed to the north had drawn most of the Guards’ attention and they’d stolen past amidst the distraction. Kalen had knocked only one man senseless. Now they were half a league from the city.

“I have a poor feeling about this, saer,” Rhett said.

“Just stay quiet,” Kalen said. “We’ll find some horses-wait.”

Glittering steel appeared in the dark, followed by shields bearing the image of a moon reflected in water-the sigil of Waterdeep. “Hold!” a man cried.

The shields formed a ring around the two men, pressing them back-to-back. Myrin nudged into Rhett and she murmured. “Mmm, that’s it. Right there.”

Kalen turned to Rhett. “Draw steel,” he said, bracing to run.

“Belay that,” came an all-too-familiar voice.

The ring of shields parted for a lithe woman in plate armor and a black cloak. She drew off her helmet,