like her kidneys were trying to crawl up her spine to hide beneath her ribs. She could feel them crying out as the Tiamatan speared them, time and again, in her imagination. She tried to relax and be limp, but couldn't, and finally she wondered if she was supposed to have rigor mortis.
Why was he standing there for so long? she wondered. Please, go away!
'Pity she got butchered,' the Tiamatan said. 'That's a nice head of hair.'
'So scalp her later,' said a companion.
The man standing over her nudged her with a boot, and an involuntary squeak escaped her throat. His feet shifted again, and her heart stopped, knowing her ruse had been betrayed by her surprise.
A voice called down from the top of the stairs, 'All clear?'
'All clear,' echoed one of the Tiamatans.
'Very well,' said the one upstairs. 'Tear the place apart. I want it found!'
The man over her stepped away, and he and the others began rummaging through the rooms. They talked and joked, banged drawers and doors, slit mattresses and tapped the walls for false panels, unafraid of being overheard for the noise of the crowds outside. They strode past her time and again as they tore the place apart.
While death stalked around her, she clung to the advice in one of the ancient tales of her people: she never once opened her eyes to see the danger.
After what seemed an eternity, Kehrsyn heard the last of the Tiamatans leave. Just to be safe, she lay there for what seemed another two or three hundred years, hearing nothing but the thudding of her heart. She soon arose, slowly, quietly, looking all around for signs of threat, but every body she saw lay still. Even the twitching of the dead Tiamatan's wrist had subsided.
She removed her cloak, meticulously avoiding the blood as much as possible. In Tharrad's office, she was relieved to find her rapier had been overlooked or ignored, and she retied it to her belt. She recovered her dagger, then sneaked throughout the house, weapons in hand, searching each room for loiterers or survivors. There were none. Even the dog was dead. She found the sorceress in the front room, empty eyes staring at the ceiling, snarling mouth left devoid of threat. Blood soaked her torn jersey, testament to the blows that had killed her. Curiously, her left middle finger had been cut off.
Part of Kehrsyn's mind wanted her to kick the vile woman in the head or spit on her corpse, but her heart could find only relief and some small pity within. No venom remained for the dead.
She brooded as she stared at the slowly cooling corpse. It was frustrating to have her revenge cut short, to be sure, but at the same time she wondered if she weren't better off as a result. She had a job and a place to stay, and she was cleaner and better fed than she had been for months.
The only catch, Kehrsyn thought as she stared at the sorceress, is that if I'm not careful, I'm more likely to end up like you.
Even as she thought that, she heard a creak on the ladder outside the front door. Glancing through the gap in the curtain, Kehrsyn saw the telltale colors of red and black looming to fill the window.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The visitor knocked on the door and started to open the latch. Kehrsyn had but a moment to react, so she leaped behind the door, her light frame landing silently and smoothly like a cat on the prowl. The door swung open, sweeping away her elbowroom, yet she concealed her rapier and readied her dagger, making no noise.
A large figure dressed in rich red-and-black robes entered the room and drew up, heavy, wide hands pushing the door closed again.
Kehrsyn heard the intruder gasp at the carnage. Nervous, but confident enough being both behind the newcomer and close to the exit, Kehrsyn stepped forward and placed the tips of her blades firmly into the intruder's back, dagger just behind the left ear and rapier pointed at the right kidney.
The intruder stiffened.
'I see you are a student of anatomy,' the woman said in a firm and steady tenor, though the words were spoken softly and inoffensively.
'I discovered many years ago that a good knowledge of anatomy can get you out of a great deal of trouble,' said Kehrsyn.
'I came to see Tharrad. Is he…?'
'Don't lie to me,' demanded Kehrsyn. 'Why did you do this? Answer me, and perhaps I'll spare your life.'
She had to hope that her threat carried adequate menace. Kehrsyn knew she couldn't just skewer someone through the back, even if that someone worshiped Tiamat.
'I had nothing to do with this,' said the woman, raising her arms to her sides, 'though it appears that some of my people were involved.' She nodded to a decapitated body dressed in red and black. 'I mean no foul play, and I am unarmed. If you please, I prefer to hold discussions face to face. May I turn?'
'Yeah,' said Kehrsyn, after some thought, 'but keep your arms to your sides, and don't do anything stupid.'
Kehrsyn stepped back to ensure she remained out of reach of the woman's long arms.
The newcomer turned around very slowly. With her feet obscured by the long, snow-wet hem of her Tiamatan robe, it was almost reminiscent of seeing a hanged criminal turning on a gibbet.
'Tiglath!' blurted Kehrsyn as she saw the intruder's profile and unique scars.
Tiglath raised her chin and said, 'I recognize you.'
'Don't play the fool,' said Kehrsyn. 'You knew I was here, you just didn't expect me to be alive.'
'I am never the fool,' said Tiglath. A brief pause. 'Ah, yes, you were in our narthex, the one who chose to tell the truth. I granted you my sufferance.'
'Oh, I remember that,' said Kehrsyn. She advanced, dagger held forward and aimed at Tiglath's throat, rapier level behind her, ready for a thrust to the torso. 'Is sufferance your code word for 'kill her later'? That's an ugly way to pay someone back for giving you the truth.'
Tiglath drew herself up, and though her arms were still spread helplessly wide, her scar-framed eyes blazed with indignation. 'How dare you? I would mete out great punishment for such temerity had I not already given you said sufferance.'
'Yeah, well, one of your brutes already tried that. Tried to kill me, he did. Your protection isn't worth two grains.'
At once Tiglath's eyes blazed even brighter, but the ire turned away from Kehrsyn and focused within as her eyes twitched to the side. Her nostrils flared, and her outstretched hands clenched into fists. At that moment, Kehrsyn decided it would probably be a very wise thing not to push Tiglath's patience too far.
'Really?' growled Tiglath, as slow as rolling thunder.
'Yes'm,' said Kehrsyn, taking a step back. 'I told him I had your sufferance just like you said, and he was even one of the ones there with you when you gave it.' Kehrsyn watched as Tiglath pursed her lips. Her skin started blotching with red, making her scars stand out even more starkly. 'You, um, can put your arms down, now,' added Kehrsyn, not wishing to stoke the fires any further.
Tiglath fixed Kehrsyn with her gaze again, a look gone from a firestorm to cold steel.
'And where is this disobedient disciple now?' the priestess asked, her lips moving with exaggerated curves across her clenched teeth. Her arms began to drop.
'I, uh… well, he's at the bottom of the stairs. Now.'
'Show me,' Tiglath commanded.
Kehrsyn took a look at Tiglath's eyes and at the tendons standing out on her neck, and decided to obey. She trotted through the house, skipping uneasily over the bodies, with Tiglath's heavy tread close behind. She moved down the staircase, vaulted over the rail to avoid the bodies at the bottom, and moved as far away as she could.
Tiglath stepped over the bodies and grabbed the hair of the Tiamatan that Kehrsyn indicated. She raised his
