'Lady.' Kalen lowered his daggers. 'Lady, no one will harm you.'
Ilira shook her head dazedly, and some of her darkness fell away as though the shadows that surrounded her were tangible.
'I am Waterdeep Guard,' Kalen said. 'Calm yourself, and we shall-'
'Shut up!' she snapped, startling him. Angry tears burst forth to stream down her face. 'Stay away from me. Away!'
Kalen raised his steel once more. 'Lady Ilira, please-'
She loosed a strangled cry of rage and pain, then ran toward the window. Lunging forward, Kalen shouted at her to stop, but she ran straight into the wall-or would have, had not the shadows swallowed her. He staggered to a halt, startled and disbelieving. She had cast no spell-used no magic that he knew of.
'A shade,' said one of the Watchmen. 'Did you see her eyes? Lady Ilira's a shade!'
'Gods above,' said the other. 'No other explanation-hold!'
When Kalen moved, they perked up and leveled their war steel at him.
Kalen put his hands out wide-peaceful. He looked to Cellica and to Fayne, whom the halfling clutched near the wall. An ugly bruise was seeping across Fayne's face where the dwarf had struck her.
He realized Fayne was looking hard at where Ilira had vanished, and her eyes twinkled.
You and any of a thousand men…
Kalen shivered. If Kalen didn't get Fayne out soon…
The Watchmen were pointing steel at them.
He had no choice.
He raised his hands to the sides of his helm.
TWENTY-FOUR
Boots sounded on the steps without, and Cellica saw Kalen shake himself from his stupor. She heard shouts from outside and a great clamor, but her eyes locked on Kalen.
'Hold!' said the Watchman, but Kalen ripped off his helm. Fayne inhaled sharply.
'Vigilant Dren!' They scrambled ro salute. 'Care for this mess,' he said. 'I'm sure she won't be back, but 'ware Ilira's hands-they burn.' He started to don his helm, then stopped. He added, 'Her kiss, too.'
'Sir!' a Watchman cried. 'What passed here? Who killed-' Kalen shook his head, and Fayne realized that he didn't know. When he arrived, Lorien was already dying, and Ilira had been closest to her.
Fayne's heart raced. What did he think had happened? Kalen gestured to Fayne and Cellica. 'These two are wirh me.' One Watchman stiffened and nodded. 'Sir,' he said. The other was openly weeping over the slain priestess. 'We'll ward this place, as you command.'
Kalen returned their salute then pushed past them, out the door onto the balcony. He carried his helm. Fayne opened her mouth to speak, but Kalen's cold eyes froze her tongue. She snatched up her clothes, which lay next to the bathtub, now wet from all the commotion.
Cellica followed Kalen to the balcony, and Fayne held her hand tightly. With the other hand, Fayne tucked the towel around her body wirh some degree of modesty.
'You showed them your face!' Cellica hissed.
'No choice,' Kalen said. 'We needed to get out of there before Rayse arrived.' He looked pointedly at Fayne.
Fayne goggled. Revealing himself seemed so stupid, yet Kalen had done it for her? Why would he do something like that? Had the world gone mad, or just her?
You're losing your mind, her inner voice noted. Again.
Chaos boiled up in the courtyard of the Temple of Beauty. Brigands had appeared as if from the air and began a brawl that had since turned the place into a mess of shouts and steel. As they watched, noble ladies screamed and ran from hot-headed duelists. The room was half filled with mist, confusing the fighters into hacking at everything that moved.
'Myrin,' Kalen and Cellica said at once.
The name was like a knife in Fayne's belly. What use had they for the doe-eyed stripling? Hadn't Kalen compromised himself to protect Fayne, just now? Didn't he fancy Fayne?
Oh, gods, didhe? Fayne wasn't sure if she was pleased or terrified.
Fayne's head hurt and she grew fearful, as she always did in confusing situations. Kalen was acting on instinct and passion, not cold rationality, and that was unpredictable.
'Where is she?' Cellica asked.
Kalen shook his head. His rumpled hair swayed in front of his eyes.
'Wait-' Fayne started. 'Wait a breath-tell me…'
But Kalen whisked her up in his arms, naked and all, and shoved her against the wall in an alcove, pressing himself firmly against her. She coughed, sputtering, but then he kissed her to still her lips and she ceased struggling. Then she was certain she'd gone mad.
He broke the kiss, finally, parting them by a thumb's breadth.
'Well met to you as well,' she managed.
'I did that to shut you up.' Kalen's eyes were cold. 'What were you doing there?'
'I-' she said. 'You don't understand…'
Kalen scowled. 'Never mind,' he said. 'You'd only lie anyway. Just… just shut up.'
'You could kiss me again,' she thought of saying, but stopped with a shiver. Kalen's face was hard and his eyes were those of a warrior. Those of a killer.
No use being ingratiating or alluring. She would just keep her mouth shut for now. s, A woman in armor ran past, and when they heard the muffled voices inside Lorien's chamber, they recognized Araezra Hondyl.
'Gods,' the valabrar said. 'What happened?'
'Murder-gods above!' a man said. 'Lady Nathalan… oh, gods, her closest friend!'
'Did you see it? You saw the murder?'
'Nay, but… Vigilant Dren. He was here, you could…'
'Dren?' The valabrar sounded shocked. 'Kalen Dren, my aide?'
'Time to go,' Cellica murmured. She'd wedged herself inro the alcove near Kalen's leg, and she darted out.
Kalen, shoving Fayne roughly along, followed her around the balcony to look down into the chaotic courtyard. Cellica was looking for Myrin, Fayne realized. Kalen was just glowering.
'Are those yours?' Kalen demanded, waving at the intruders.
Fayne could only shake her head, complerely at a loss. Whoever had sent these men to the temple, it hadn't been her.
Near the entrance, Kalen saw a knot of guardsmen and Watchmen rallying around Bors Jarthay. The commander-whose drunkenness had been mostly an act-knocked one man out with his handflask pipe and drew a surprisingly long blade out of his billowing shirt. Commander Kleeandur was there too, barking orders to cut off exits and trap the chaos inside.
'I don't see her!' Cellica cried.
The more Watch that arrived, the fewer rogues remained. But the nobles began dueling, and that perpetuated the brawl. Lady Wildfire, surrounded by a dozen noblemen fighting over the right to prorect her, tired of the commotion, brained one of the lordlings with her jeweled purse, and fled of her own power. Talantress Roaringhorn was conspicuously absent, and dozens of nobles cried out in search of one another amidst the din.
Kalen saw black-garbed figures slipping out of the courtyard, hooded ladies in their grasp. They moved south into the temple plaza.
Cellica followed his gaze and pointed at the kidnappers. 'What are you going to do?'
Kalen pushed Fayne roughly at the halfling and took his helmet in his hands. He slid it over his head.
'Kalen, you have no sword,' the halfling said. 'You can't-'
