Downshadow

THIRTY-THREE

The sun dipped outside his window. Dusk fell quickly, and mist flowed into Waterdeep once more. No strange glowing patches would appeat that night, though-only calm, expectant fog to shroud the city, hiding the unpleasant things that needed to be done.

The faltering light slanted across the blood-stained floor that Kalen had done his best to clean.

Though Kalen didn't feel like eating, he forced himself. However much Cellica had spiced it, the cold stew tasted like soggy paper. In part, it was his curse; in part, it was fate.

The dwarf was giving him some time, and he was glad of that much, at least.

He'd taken Cellica to her adoptive family in a hired carriage. They'd accepted the body with tears and sobs. Kalen hadn't been able to face her adoptive siblings and stood aloof. Philbin, so like a father, had whispered a silent prayer for vengeance. Kalen had nodded silently.

Now, Kalen sat wearing the armor Cellica had repaired, rolling his helm between his gauntleted hand and his bare one. He had only one gauntlet, after rhat noble stripling had taken his second away. He was supposed to do this alone, weakened, without his full armor or even his sword? Impossible, he thought, and yet, he had no choice.

He looked again at the scroll on the table-the note that had been affixed to his door with a dagger. His dagger, that he had given Myrin the night before.

Shadow,

Rath is making me write this.

Come to the Grim Statue at midnight or he will kill us. Come alone.

He says he may just kill one of us and maim the other. He says you can pick. -E

Kalen ran his hand across his grizzled chin, thinking. Why had Rath spared him? And, above that, did Rath know he was Shadowbane?

The dwarf could be toying with him, but Kalen did not think that Rath was the sort to play games with his prey. He must have known Kalen was in the room, helpless and asleep. If he'd known Shadowbane slumbered nearby, he could have slain him easily, or awakened him so they could duel on the spot. And if he didn't know Kalen was Shadowbane, he would have had no hesitations about killing him in his sleep.

For the life of him, Kalen could not puzzle out why he was still alive.

Then he realized: Fayne.

Fayne must have done something to spare his life. Perhaps she convinced Rath that Kalen knew Shadowbane, and could deliver the letter. Perhaps she begged Rath not to kill him-perhaps she offered him lewd favors in return…

Kalen grimaced and clenched his fist.

Or perhaps he did not owe Fayne his life at all, but owed it rather to Rath himself. The dwarf came from a monastery-he knew great discipline. Perhaps he would have thought slaying a helpless man to be dishonorable. And leaving Cellica to die hadn't been?

"Twisted sense of honor," Kalen murmured, but in truth, he was hardly in a position to judge. Woujd his own code make sense to anyone besides himself?

It had made sense to Cellica, he thought.

He shook his head. Thinking with his heart was a weakness he could ill afford.

Surely Rath would have obtained healing, but likely the scars on his wrist would stop him fighting with his sword hand, or perhaps compromise his technique. That was an advantage for Kalen-a strength. He passed the helmet to his right hand, in its steel gauntlet.

Kalen did not have Vindicator-that was a weakness. He passed the helm to his left hand.

Rolling the helm back to his right hand, Kalen thought he was the stronger-strength.

Rath had proven, rhough, that his skill more than compensated for Kalen's strength-weakness. He rolled the helmet to his left.

Kalen wore armor that allowed him mobility-strength.

Rath did not need armor and seemed not to tire, while Kalen had to carry the weight of his leathers-weakness.

Kalen had the threefold god-strength.

They almost matched for speed, but Rath was just enough faster-weakness.

Rath had Fayne and Myrin, while Kalen had no bargaining power-weakness.

Rath had picked the dueling ground-weakness.

And, most important, Kalen was dying of spellplague-weakness.

Kalen was holding the helmet in his unarmored left hand. He hefted it, as though trying to dispel his doubts, then shook his head.

Going into this duel was tantamount to falling on his own blades, but he had to try.

"If I don't," he murmured, "then who will?" The words he had shared with Myrin.

He felt the familiar chill at the base of his neck that told him he was not alone-someone stood just outside his door. Had Rath chosen to kill him by stealth after all?

He lifted his helm and slid it on, fastening the buckles with distinct, if muted, clicks.

Then he was up, dagger in his hand, facing the door. It burst open, as if by cue, and a woman in black coat-of-piate armor stood before him. In her hands was a hand-and-a-half sword that dripped with silver fire.

"Waterdeep Guard!" she cried. He knew her voice.

Araezra.

Shadowbane turned to the window, but a red-haired woman sat on the sill, hands at the hilts of twin knives-Talanna. "Lost your other gauntlet, have you?" she asked. "Shadowbane?"

Kalen pressed his lips firmly together-they would know his voice.

"Down arms and doff your helm," Araezra commanded. "In the name of the city."

He looked for another way out. Cellica's window, perhaps, but that was a small fit. He could try his luck with Araezra, but a dagger would be as nothing against Vindicator. He might escape with a wound, but he could hardly fight Rath while hurt.

"Do it now," Araezra said. "Down arms and unveil yourself!"

He dropped the dagger, which stabbed into the floorboards, there to quiver. He made no move to unbuckle his helm.

"You're making a mistake," he said as gruffly as he could, to hide his identity. "I've done nothing illegal or-"

"The time for masks is past, lad," said Talanna. She hefted her blades dangerously.

He thought desperately but could find nothing. He nodded.

"Slowly, then," Araezra said. "Unveil yourself-slowly."

He put his hands out, showing them empty-his left hand bare, his right hand gauntleted. Then he reached up and opened the clasps of his helm and pulled it off. He watched Araezra's face and saw the hope in her eyes fade. And with it, his own hopes.

"I knew it!" Talanna clapped the blades of her daggers together and grinned. She looked at Araezra, who grimaced angrily. "I told you, Rayse-didn't I tell you?"

Kalen blinked. "What?"

"Kalen." Araezra lowered Vindicator, setting the point against the floor. "I tried so hard to believe it wasn't you. Even up until I knocked on your door, I thought there would be an explanation." She shook her head. "I didn't think you would lie to me, but you did."

"I'm sorry," he said. "You were never supposed to know."

Araezra's eyes narrowed. "Never supposed to know? You think me a dullwit, then?"

Kalen blinked.

"All those stories we heard," Araezra said. "About the gray knight who feels no pain? And the colorless eyes. You think I don't know your eyes, Kalen? We've…"

She looked at Talanna, who grinned. Araezra nodded toward the window, as though directing her out to give them privacy, but Talanna only shrugged, feigning ignorance.

With a scowl, Araezra looked to Kalen. "It was only circumstantial, until that night in Downshadow-when you saved first me, then Tal. We were chasing you, and you came back for us anyway. You didn't want to be caught, but you didn't want us hurt. You're always like that-taking care of us whether we want it or not."

Kalen looked at the floor. He supposed it was true. "I never meant to offend."

"And the ball," said Talanna. She grinned. "Rayse told me about the ball."

"What about the ball?" Kalen asked. He thought he'd hidden himself well enough there.

Araezra waved. "When all the panic started, Shadowbane appeared and picked up Cellica, of all folk, and leaped up-" She trailed off.

"We're sorry," Talanna said. "That's why we've come-because of Cellica." Kalen opened his mouth, but she continued. "Of course we heard. Her family was just concerned about you, Kalen. They sent word to the Watch, and we requested to go along for the task."

"So, now," Kalen said. "You've come to arrest me?"

Talanna laughed.

Araezra didn't look so amused. "Aye, or so the ten Watchmen below think," Araezra said. "You're a dangerous vigilante, Kalen. We came up alone to talk to you, and they're under orders to follow if either of us shouts. But since we know you and love you well, we came to see if you would come peaceably."

"What happens now?" Kalen looked at the dagger stuck in the floor. He was fast, he knew-could he knock Talanna to the floor before she could put two daggers in him?

"We arrest you," Araezra said. Then she shrugged. "On the morrow."

Kalen blinked. "What?"

"Assuming, of course, you're still in the city," Talanna said. "But why would you leave? Waterdeep is the city of splendors-everything you could ever want is here, aye?"

Araezra shifted her boots.

"We worked out a wonderful tale," Talanna said. "We found you, agony-stricken, inconsolable. Plying that indefinable charm of yours, you lulled Rayse and I-"

"Mostly her" Araezra noted.

"— into lowering our guard," Talanna continued. "Then you sprang from the window and fled!" She grinned. "Naturally, the story will vary around the Watch for months, and I expect you'll have charmed us both into bed and escaped while we were searching for our trousers, but nevertheless!" She sighed grandly. "Ah, such is the legend of Kalen Dren!"

Araezra groaned.

Talanna sheathed her daggers and stepped toward Kalen. "Here," she said. "Take this." In her hand was her golden ring of carved feathers. "I've had my fill of high places."

"It was a gift," Kalen said. "Won't Lord Neverember be offended?"

"He can always buy me another." Talanna shrugged. "I owe you a debt for saving me."

It was pointless to argue. Kalen did not don the ring, but laced it into the sleeve over his bare hand, so he could use it at a heartbeat's notice.

"I am sorry for this," he said. "I love you both well, and I never meant to hurt you." He looked especially at Araezra. "I mean… hurt the Guard."

Talanna laughed. "Surely you jest! Your exile from the city will be the cheeriest bit of news the Guard's had in ages." She winked at Araezra. "It means some certain lass has become free game once again."

Red in the face, Araezra looked ready to strangle Talanna.

"What are you talking about?" Kalen asked.

"Are you that dull?" Talanna asked. "For months, Rayse has been free of suitors because everyone thought that you two-"

Araezra's cheeks were burning. "Shouldn't you be going, Kalen?"

He smiled weakly then said, "I have aught to do, first."

"Does this have to do with Cellica?" Araezra asked gently. "If so, let the Watch-"

"I can't," he said. "I'm sorry-I can't tell you. I must do it alone."

Araezra sighed. "You always seem to have to be alone," she whispered.

Kalen donned his helm once more and secured it in place. "Araezra-I'm sorry."

"I know," Araezra said. "Just-one thing."

He turned toward her, thankful for the helm that hid his anxious expression. "Aye?"

"In the Room of Records," she said. "When Rath was holding me prisoner, and you came in. You… you did what you did, broke your vow, to protect me, didn't you?"

Kalen didn't trust his tongue, so he just nodded.

She stepped forward, snaked her arms about his neck, and pressed her lips to his cold, shining helm. "Thank you," she murmured.

He smiled inside his steel mask.

Then she slapped him lightly, causing his helmet to vibrate and his ears to ring. "I don't need you making decisions about what is best for me," Araezra said. "I can make those myself."

"Yes, Araezra."

"Rayse" she corrected.

Talanna rolled her eyes. "No wonder you two didn't last."

Araezra reversed Vindicator and handed it to him. As she did, her hand lingered on his. She gazed into his eyes, and he into hers. He knew she wanted to say much, but both of them knew she could not say it.

"I will miss you, Vigilant Dren," she finally said.

"And I you," he said, "Rayse."

She smiled widely, as though he'd paid her the finest compliment in Waterdeep.

"Now, go do what you must," she said. She straightened and her face turned stony. "Farewell, and remember-begone by the morrow. You have one day."

Talanna winked at him. "One day," she repeated. "Then I get to chase you down."

Kalen nodded, turned, and leaped out the window. He hit the roof of the building across the alley, rolled to his feet, and broke into a run.

He would need only one night.

THIHTY-FOnn

Rath meditated, waiting for nightfall. Fayne had sworn Shadowbane would get the note, and that he would be punctual. The woman had subsequently fled-while Rath had gone in search of food for them-but no matter. The human was the more important, and Fayne's absence meant one less distracrion.

He'd drunk three bottles of brandy the night of the revel, when the elf woman had scarred him. He'd paid for all the healing he could afford, but the marks were still there. He'd drunk until he couldn't see them in the mirror anymore. And he'd paid for whores who wouldn't wince to see his face. The next morning, his employer had come upon him as he lay aching from liquor and burns and women.

Now, he would wait for the next move in this game. And he would be sober.

He breathed in and out, in time with the ticking. He'd listened to the clock for a long while-it helped him to focus and align his breathing with the world around him. It was off, he thought, but only slightly. Craftsmen would be required to fix the clock soon-on the morrow, perhaps. After this business was concluded.

The girl fidgeted again, distracting him.

He'd brought her food. He'd even ungagged her long enough to pour soup down her throat-slowly, so as not to choke her. He hadn't unbound her wrists-no need. He'd helped with her roilet so that he didn't have to untie her. She'd nearly died of embarrassment, but he'd just stared at her with the same bored expression until she yielded. There was nothing erotic about it.

Even as he meditated, he was aware of her staring at the back of his head. What a curious creature. At least her fear kept her quiescent enough.

Finally, when he found his thoughts settling too much on her, he opened his eyes and turned his head. She quickly looked away, but he knew she'd been staring at him.

He sighed. Feeling the lightness in his ready joints, he rose and crossed to her. "I will not harm you, girl," he said. "I have not been paid to slay you. If you are hurt, it will be accidental and as a consequence of your own actions." He frowned. "Understand?"

She nodded. From the way she flinched when he turned his head toward her, he could tell the mangled half of his face frightened her. That brought a twinge of anger, but he suppressed it.

"I will remove this," Rath said, touching the gag in her mouth. "But you must promise you will not scream or attempt any magic. There will be consequences. Yes?"

She nodded, and her eyes looked wet.

The dwarf sighed, then pulled the gag out of her mouth. She gasped and coughed but made no loud sounds. This was good.

She looked at him, lip trembling. "What-what are you going to do with me?"

Rath frowned. "Just hold you here for a time. Nothing more."

"Are you-are you going to…?" Myrin trembled and edged a little away.

"Humans." Rath rolled his eyes. "I would swear by any god you could name that you are the most despicable, insecure, bastard blood in the world, but I know the ways of my own kind and find them worse." He shrugged. "You have no dishonor to fear from me."

"Why not-" Myrin swallowed hard. "Why not unbind me? Am I a threat to you?"

"No," he said, perhaps faster than he should have.

She pursed her lips. "You fear me?"

"I fear nothing," Rath said. "I have nothing to fear from you."

"Prove it." Myrin puffed herself up as big as she could in her frail body. "Unbind my hands. If you have nothing to fear from me."

"Hmm." Rath couldn't argue with her logic. "Why do you want them unbound? You cannot escape."

"Uh." Her eyes widened. "My wrists hurt."

Rath said nothing, only reached around to do as she asked. She hadn't lied: the ropes had left red welts on her wrisrs. He pulled away and let her rub her skin.

"There," said Rath. "Satisfied?"

"Yes." Myrin brought a wand of pale wood from behind her back and rhrust it under his chint. Rath felt sparks hissing out of it. "Hmm," the dwarf said.

Myrin stared ar him, her eyes very wide. She breathed heavily.

"You should do it," Rath said. "I have slain many-men and women both. And children."

Myrin breathed harder and harder. Rath could feel her heart racing, see the blood thudding through her veins on her forehead.

"Do ir," Rath teased.

The girl inhaled sharply.

Then he slapped the wand away and swatted her head at the temple with his open hand, as one might stun a rabbit. She collapsed to the floor limply. Lightning crackled and died.

"Wizards," he murmured, rolling his eyes.