on my way.'
'Now why would I want you to do that?' asked the man, finally turning around, revealing a woman's silhouetted face emblazoned in gold on the front of his robes-the symbol for the temple of Waukeen.
His face was long, like the snout of a wolf, only much more compact. Sharpened teeth jutted out from under his curled lips as he spoke. A pair of short horns shot out from his forehead, and he held his blade easily in one hairy hand, dangling at his side.
'I do not wish to fight you,' said the Claw.
'Who said anything about a fight?' The man stood still for a moment, eyeing the Claw. 'Do you know who I am?'
The Claw shook his head. The man looked familiar somehow, but he didn't recognize him. 'I don't think so.'
The man stepped closer. 'Well then you should get to know me,' he said.
With lightning speed the man's blade left his side, whispering as it cut the air.
The Claw only had time to raise his gauntlets to block the strike. His right hand connected with the man's sword, followed by a harmonious clang and clatter as all four blades broke free and dropped to the cave floor. The horned man's sword came to a rest at his side, unblemished.
The Claw stumbled back in shock. The high wizard Ellhimar had constructed those gauntlets. Nothing had ever so much as tarnished the edge, yet this stranger's sword had taken the blades clean off.
'Who are you?' asked the Claw.
'It will come to you,' replied the horned man.
A cold chill ran down the Claw's spine. His voice did sound familiar.
The horned man's blade whispered again as it split the air.
The Claw dodged back, careful not to risk his remaining gauntlet. The sword slipped past, just missing his face, and the horned man brought it around again, this time in a flat arc. The Claw dodged again, throwing himself against the mossy cave wall. The blade missed his face, but this time the razor tip bit into his mask, slicing it away from cheekbone to cheekbone, just below both eyes. A brief flash filled the chamber as the magic inside failed, and the bottom half slipped away, dropping to the cave floor and revealing his rugged face and blond hair.
The horned man lowered his blade. 'Well, well, well,' he said, obviously pleased with himself. 'If it isn't Quinn, King Korox's bodyguard.'
Quinn lifted his right hand to his exposed chin. Though it was his own flesh, it felt stubbly and strange. His second life had been revealed-incongruous halves of the same whole. He knew the Cellar was full of many dangers, but this was not one he had considered.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Arch Magus Xeries downed the last drop of wine in his goblet and looked out over the edge of his citadel onto Shalane Lake. The moon reflected on the water's surface as it rose-a long, shimmering band of pale yellow light.
He took a deep breath, thinking about what he was about to do. This had been his home, had been the land he wanted to rule alongside his wife. That dream had never come to pass. His disfigurement and the loss of his beloved had ended his hopes for ever becoming king.
Now Xeries stood high above the valley, looking down on what at one time he had most coveted. Would seeing this place in ruins make him happy? Probably not. It wasn't Erlkazar that was withholding from him the thing he now desired.
It was the man who ruled Erlkazar who had everything Xeries wanted.
And that man now needed to be taught a lesson. If there was one thing that Xeries had learned in his long life, it was that threats only worked if you were willing to follow through.
Turning away from the balcony, he stepped down into his private chamber. There, in the middle of the floor, awaited one of his servants. The creature sat like an obedient dog, patiently waiting for his master to give him an order or lavish him with attention.
Unlike the army of slavering, monstrous beasts below the Obsidian Ridge on the valley floor, this creature was more calculating, more refined. Its eyes had an intelligence to them that the others lacked. Where they were indiscriminate killing machines, mercilessly striking anything they were pointed at, unaffected by who or how they killed, this creature understood why it did what it did. It knew whose life it was ending, and it enjoyed the process.
Its sleek frame rippled with ropy muscles underneath taught, shiny black skin. Its limbs ended in razor-like claws that retracted and extended out of its paws at will. Its ears moved around its head, searching its surroundings like a bat. And its mouth could unhinge at the jaw, so it could sink its huge fangs into even larger prey.
Xeries sat down at the opposite side of the room, 'Come here, my pet.'
The creature obeyed without delay, crossing the floor on all fours. Its soft feet made no noise as they padded across the shiny obsidian. Were it not for the light of the moon coming through the balcony, Xeries may not have seen the beast, blending so well against its dark surroundings.
'You know what it is I want you to do,' said Xeries.
The creature nodded its understanding.
'Very good,' said the arch magus. 'Make sure they know who sent you, and give King Korox my regards.'
The beast bowed its head, turned, and bolted across the room. Bounding out onto the balcony, the creature leaped over the edge and disappeared into the night.
Kleegor fumed. 'The moon has risen, and still the Matron hasn't turned over the princess.' He walked away from the docks, his task of loading Elixir crates finished for the time being.
'You are walking a thin line,' replied Talish.
'What do you mean?'
'I mean, I know that look. You're thinking about doing something. Something you're probably going to regret.'
'So what if I am?' replied the half-ore. 'I'm tired of taking orders and not being part of the plan.'
The dark-skinned man shook his head. 'You're going to get yourself killed.'
The half-ore growled. 'The Matron is going to get all of us killed. She's playing with fire, and I don't intend to get burned.'
'Then what are you going to do?'
The half-ore smiled a nearly toothless grin. 'I'm going to do what it was we should've done a long time ago. I'm going to force the Matron to turn over the princess.'
'Don't say it,' said Talish as they crossed from the open wharf into the clustered streets penned in by warehouses and shop fronts.
'I'm going to send a little present to the king.' Kleegor rubbed his hands together, his glee growing as he envisioned the king lying dead on the floor of Klarsamryn, two assassins standing over him.
'You should reconsider. Maybe just wait and see what happens.' Talish grabbed Kleegor's arm. 'Please. The Matron warned us, and if you do something against her wishes, then she's going to think I was involved.'
The half-ore wheeled on Talish. 'Where did your spine
'Shh. Keep your voice down,' urged Talish. He looked both ways down the alley, making sure no one was eavesdropping. 'I have a spine, but you heard her. She said the king was off limits, and I don't think it's wise to cross her, not now.'
The half-ore shoved his companion and walked away. 'I don't have time for cowards. I'm going to take matters into my own hands.'
'I never would have guessed that you were the Claw,' said the horned man, locked in a circling duel with Quinn. 'A bodyguard, sure. I can see you throwing yourself before danger to save old Korox. But you didn't strike me
