Shadowbane

wave of thunder. Heaving, she chanted another spell.

“Myrin is greater than this,” Sithe said. “I have seen her wield greater magic.”

Kalen shook his head. “She can only prepare so many spells-if she casts them all now, we cannot defeat Scour and neither can we retreat. This is our only chance.”

No chance at all, he thought, if they all died here.

As if Sithe could read Kalen’s thoughts, she put a hand on his. He found that so strange-in his memory, she’d never touched him, except on the rooftop during their final duel. It hardly seemed to occur to her that physical contact could be comforting.

He clasped her hand tighter.

Myrin was barely keeping ahead of Eden, backpedaling and scrambling around. If she weren’t able to read the priestess’s moves, she would have been slain long ago. Kalen’s one-eyed sister laughed as she chased the wizard in circles, lashing out with her flail.

“Sooner or later, sweetling,” Eden said. “Sooner or later, you won’t be able to run anymore.”

“Who’s running?”

Myrin wheeled on Eden with a burst of fire from her fingers, which the priestess met with her shield. The wizard poured her power into the swelling fan of flames, but Eden stood firm, her coin absorbing the magic.

Kalen’s heart sank. This was it.

Indeed, after a moment, Eden strode forward against Myrin’s magic. Blue runes erupted all over Myrin’s body and sweat poured down her brow, but it just wasn’t enough. Pushing the fire away, Eden closed in and dealt Myrin a heavy blow with her flail. The younger woman managed to dodge enough that the flail hit her shoulder rather than her forehead, but she went down to her knees all the same.

“Ha!” Eden cried. “Pathetic!”

Myrin tried to raise her wand, but golden light burst from Eden’s coin, paralyzing the young wizard. The wand slipped from Myrin’s nerveless fingers.

Eden raised her gnarled leg, set the foot on Myrin’s chest, and pushed. The wizard slumped to the murky stone like a felled tree.

All around them, Eden’s men raised their weapons and cheered.

Kalen felt his spellscar surge toward her in desperate longing. She was going to die and he was going to watch. He almost moved, but then he saw Myrin coughing back into wakefulness. Hope remained in the gleam of her pale blue eyes.

He found, at that moment, that he believed in her.

“The goddess declares her chosen victor,” Eden said.

“Queen Eden!” a cry rose, followed by shouts of “Queen!” and “Tymora!”

On the floor, Myrin shook herself back to her senses. On her hands and knees, she crawled toward Eden. At first, Kalen despaired, thinking she meant to abase herself before his sister. Then he realized, as her fingers groped along the filthy floor, that she was going for her wand, which lay at Eden’s feet. The queen of Luskan hadn’t noticed.

“A darkness,” Myrin murmured. “A darkness where there is only me …”

Kalen recognized his own mantra. She must have heard him utter it-or seen it in his memory. Looking at her now, he thought he had never before met Myrin-not truly.

Blood dripped from her nose and muck caked her blue hair. Myrin groped for her wand and her fingers caught at the tip of it.

A heavy boot fell on the wand and snapped it with a great crack. Startled, Myrin peered up at Eden, who promptly kicked her in the face. Blood and spittle flew. Myrin rolled onto her back, coughing and wheezing.

“See what becomes of the Lady’s enemies!” Eden cried to her followers in the common hall. “The power of the goddess is mine alone, now and forever!”

The assembled zealots raised their hands in salute and cried out her name.

Blades or no, Kalen was going in there. He stepped forward, but Sithe stayed him with a hand on his arm. “Wait,” she said.

“Eden’s going to kill her,” Kalen hissed.

“That woman is stronger than either of us,” Sithe said. “Wait.”

Sure enough, the blue-haired wizard was getting to her knees. Her runes were diminished, her hair tangled, and her clothes ruined, but her eyes burned.

Eden strode forward and kicked her in the belly, putting her back down.

“Ha,” Myrin said, coughing-and laughing. “Is that all? Ha ha!”

“You laugh?” Eden bent low. “Can you even stand, you useless chit of a girl?”

“Nay.” Myrin spat blood. “But I’ve fought you and hurt you badly. And if a useless chit of a girl can do it, how long do you think you’ll last, Queen Eden?”

She reached up and her fingers trailed across Eden’s brow. They lit, Kalen saw, with blue runes. Eden looked momentarily dazed, then shook it away.

“Longer than you, at least.” Eden stood and raised her flail.

Gold light burst in the air between them and the priestess faltered in her killing strike. The gathered thugs drew back, awe written on their faces.

“What?” Eden asked. “No. It’s not-no!”

Gold light swirled around Myrin’s limbs, soothing her aches, erasing her bruises, and closing her wounds. This power was not arcane but divine: Tymora’s power.

“I am your daughter, not her,” Eden said, her eyes wide. “Not her, goddess!”

When it was ended, Myrin stood once more, the marks of battle gone, as though they had never been. Her eyes opened and she smiled like Tymora herself. “I have a demon to kill,” she said to Eden. “Go rule your little city.”

The priestess backed away, her lip trembling. The flail fell from her limp hand. She uttered a strangled cry and fled. Faces uncertain, her men poured out behind her.

Myrin stood alone, tingling with golden light, rocking on her feet. Kalen dashed forward and caught her before she could sway over and fall.

“Thanks,” Myrin said, pressing her face into his chest. “I’m just glad that worked. I don’t think I could manage to take any more of that godsburned flail.”

“That-that was-”

“What?” Myrin looked up at him-for approval or challenge. “What was it?”

Finally, seeing Sithe watching, Kalen could collect his thoughts.

“That was utterly stupid,” Kalen said. “That was your plan? Defeating her by letting her beat you almost to death? Amazingly stupid.”

“Oh, was it?” Myrin pulled away and crossed her arms. She gave him a pointed and defiant look. “I learned from the best, you know.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“ ‘Oh, no-danger!’ ” she said, imitating his voice with surprising accuracy. “ ‘Don’t worry, Myrin-I’ll block it with my face!’ ”

Kalen scowled, though he couldn’t dispute the truth behind her words. He would suffer any wound to save her from the same. “Regardless,” he said. “I’m glad you won.”

“Close.” She paused. “How about ‘Thanks for saving our lives again, Myrin’? Eh?”

“That too.”

“Well.” Looking content, Myrin laid her head on his shoulder. Her golden aura dimmed. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll let you take the beating next time. That was quite painful.”

Kalen’s mouth worked, but he could utter no words. Not while Myrin’s warm body leaned on him for support. Finally, he gave in to the silence and put his arm around her.

Sithe cleared her throat, interrupting their moment. “And now?”

“Kill Scour.” Kalen nodded grimly. “Assuming we can find that damned elf.”

“So.” Lilten stood among them once more, quite as though he’d been there the whole time. His very