Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 02 (14 page)

“Perhaps.”
Mychael’s face didn’t betray a thing, but I could tell I’d just lit a spark in
those blue eyes. I swore silently. As paladin, Mychael needed to know
everything I found out, but I hoped I hadn’t just earned Piaras the same
watch-first-lockup-later vibe I’d felt since I got here.

I
suddenly didn’t want the books out in the open. I tucked them both into my
jerkin. It was a tight fit, but I felt safer with them out of sight. I also
felt safer by freeing up one of my hands.

Then
I saw them. Six goblins, all armed and armored in sleek black. Khrynsani temple
guards. Sarad Nukpana’s enforcers.

The
Khrynsani were transparent. They were remnants, a psychic impression left
behind after a person had left a place. Some sorcerers saw them constantly; I
never could. Until now. The Khrynsani—and the young goblin they hunted—had been
here just minutes before. I could see the filmy trail of the direction they’d
gone in.

“Six
Khrynsani were just here,” I told Mychael.

He
didn’t question how I knew; his magic just heated the air around us as he
shielded me. The remnants instantly vanished.

“Stop
it!”

“What?”

“Your
shields. I can’t see their remnants anymore.”

“You
can’t see remnants.”

“I
can now.” Apparently another unwanted gift courtesy of the Saghred. “They’re
after a goblin, student age.”

Mychael
swore. The shields went down, but his sword came out, the steel glowing blue.
“Which way?”

A
distant scream answered his question.

The
woman had seen the Khrynsani, screamed, and slammed her door by the time we got
there. The goblins and their quarry were no longer there, either, but I could
tell where they’d gone.

I
tried to pull away to follow them. Mychael pulled me back.

“They
could be after you.”

I
jerked away. “Not now, they’re not.”

Mychael
glared. “Which way?”

“Around
the corner there.”

“Vegard?”
Mychael called over his shoulder.

“Sir?”

“You
and Riston take Raine back to the citadel.”

“Yes,
sir.”

I
wasn’t going anywhere with anybody. “You can’t see them. I can.”

“No,
but we can track them.”

“I
can see
and
track them. They’re heading toward the central city. You’re
going to lose them in there.”

“Maybe.”

“Shouldn’t
that be my decision?”

“Not
here, it’s not,” he growled.

I had
a couple of choice words ready to let fly, but shouts and the sounds of
fighting from ahead stopped me. It was probably a good thing; they weren’t nice
words. I took off in the direction of the shouts before Mychael could get a
hand on me again, though I knew he was right on my heels. He wasn’t going to be
happy with me, but he’d have to get in line.

The
shops and nightclubs gave way to a more residential section. The streets were
darker with fewer witnesses for whatever the Khrynsani had in mind. I had
blades on me but considering who I was chasing, my alternate arsenal might be a
better choice. You didn’t just run Khrynsani temple guards into a dark alley
without a plan. What I had wasn’t exactly a plan, but it’d keep me from getting
roasted until Mychael and his Guardians could catch up with me. I wasn’t going
to let the Khrynsani get that kid.

It
wasn’t a dark alley. But if the goblins were looking for some privacy, the
deserted courtyard they dragged their captured quarry into worked just fine.

One
of the Khrynsani had a knife to the young goblin’s throat. Another had leather
strips out and was binding the kid’s wrists. This wasn’t a hit; it was a
kidnapping.

Mychael
caught up with me on cat feet. Vegard and Riston were close behind. There was
no sense rushing in. We were standing in the only way out. Possibly. Mid had
plenty of buildings that led to basements that led to tunnels. I’d heard you
could get from the harbor to the center city and never see the sky. I really
didn’t want to test that rumor for the first time while chasing Khrynsani in
the pitch dark. Elven sight was decent in the dark, but goblins could see like
cats. Mychael peered into the courtyard. He saw what I saw and, judging from
his confused expression, he knew the kid.

There
was lamplight in the courtyard, and the goblin was in plain view. He was
slender and probably not much older than Piaras, with waist-length black hair
that shimmered in the lamplight. His silvery gray skin was suspiciously light,
and when the lamp caught his pale eyes, my suspicions were confirmed. A
half-breed, probably elven, definitely beautiful. He was stylishly dressed,
though his clothing was a bit showy, more like a stage costume than anything.
Probably a performer in one of the nightclubs.

A
Khrynsani uncorked a small glass vial. I stifled a growl. Tied up wasn’t
enough; they wanted him drugged, too. The goblin tried to struggle, but with
the knife at his throat he was helpless to do anything about it.

I’d
seen enough.

Mychael’s
arm blocked me. He looked at Vegard, pointed at me and then emphatically to the
ground. I had a feeling if I tried to follow Mychael into that courtyard,
Vegard had just been ordered to sit on me.

Mychael
stepped out into the courtyard entrance. Some of the Guardians went with him;
some didn’t. Vegard and two Guardians armed with crossbows didn’t. There was a
tree next to the courtyard entrance. One moment the two Guardians were in the
street with us; then they weren’t. I imagine they were making themselves at
home on the building’s roof.

A
Khrynsani temple guard stepped in front of his captive. He wore tooled leather
covered with a combination of black steel plate and scale armor. The single
serpent of the Khrynsani insignia gleamed in vivid, red enamel over his heart.
The etching in the steel made the armor look delicate, but experience had
taught me better.

Mychael’s
sword glowed with pale blue fire. “You’re not taking him out of here.”

“I
think he’s the only way I am getting out of here.” The temple guard smiled, slow
and eager, and full of fang.

Great.
Someone was feeling challenged this evening.

I
peeked over Mychael’s shoulder and saw that the two Guardians had reached their
perches. They weren’t making any effort to hide.

“Teris?”
Mychael called to one of them.

“Sir?”

“Would
you be so kind as to put a bolt behind this Khrynsani’s ear if he doesn’t
comply with my order?”

“No
problem, sir. I was thinking along those lines myself.”

I
looked back at the Khrynsani. I saw the beginnings of doubt in his black eyes.
Mychael didn’t need him to be afraid, just sensible.

“Don’t
worry,” Mychael told him. “You won’t feel a thing when it hits. You also won’t
have time to take the boy with you.”

Teris’s
crossbow creaked as he cranked the string back. The sound effect was a nice touch.
It also changed the Khrynsani’s mind. He didn’t move, but I saw it in his
eyes—the goblin wasn’t worth it to him.

Mychael
stood perfectly still. He was getting what he wanted, and saw no sense in
spooking the Khrynsani. “Tell your men to take the blade away from his throat,
let him go, and step back. Way back.”

No
one moved for nearly a minute. Then the Khrynsani guard hissed something under
his breath, and the others backed away from the young goblin. The guard never
took his eyes from Mychael.

Mychael
motioned to the boy. The goblin ripped away the still-loose leather bindings
and crossed the distance to us.

Mychael
took two steps toward the boy, and the Khrynsani temple guard smiled, though it
looked more like a wolf baring his fangs at a new option that’d just appeared
on the menu.

He’d
seen me.

“It
appears I’m in your debt, Paladin Eiliesor. You take one prize away and bring
me another.”

Mychael
stepped protectively in front of me.

“Darshan?”
the Khrynsani guard called over his shoulder.

A
figure stepped out of a darkened doorway wearing a black robe lined in silver.
A Khrynsani shaman.

Oh
hell.

I
could see others in the shadows behind him. So much for there being only one
entrance to the courtyard.

The
guard laughed softly. “Before the paladin so gallantly shielded his fair lady,
did you see her?”

“Yes,
I did. She is the one. Take her.”

So I
was on the Khrynsani’s dance card this evening.

I
heard a pair of thumps, and suddenly there were two fewer Khrynsani. A crossbow
bolt had taken one in the chest, another in the back.

Teris
looked wildly behind him. The shot had come from the roof next door. The
marksmen were goblins, they were heavily armed—and best of all, they weren’t
Khrynsani.

The
Khrynsani scattered like roaches in torchlight. Apparently there were other
exits from the courtyard into the street and the Khrynsani took full advantage.
Within seconds the temple guards and shamans were moving to surround us.

Crossbow
bolts weren’t the only things flying through the air as the Guardians,
Khrynsani, and our mystery goblin allies launched spells, counterspells, and
enough nasty crossfire to fry anything left standing. I wasn’t standing. I’d
hit the cobbles during the first volley. In a serious fight, mages launched
spells at an opponent’s torso or head for a quick kill. Anything below the
knees didn’t warrant attention. The same went for personal shields.

I
never ignored any target, especially ankles. A little focused will and a quick
yank would jerk a mage’s feet right out from underneath him. It’d worked for me
in the past, and was doing a fine job now as another Khrynsani landed on his
back in the street. That most were knocking themselves unconscious when their
heads hit the cobblestones was just an added bonus.

A
spell ricocheted off someone’s shields. I rolled to keep from getting fried and
ended up facedown in a gutter—and face-to-face with the kid. Eyes of the
clearest aquamarine; eyes of a pure-blooded high elf. About eighteen years ago,
a goblin had ventured way out of his or her family tree. Another explosion made
us both cover our heads.

“Looks
like someone doesn’t like you, either,” he said.

There
was a momentary lull in the shooting and spellslinging, and the kid started
scrambling to his feet. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “In my
family that’s not silence; it’s reloading.”

I
felt cold air down the front of my shirt. I looked down. My jerkin laces had
come undone. I frantically felt down the front of my jerkin and shirt. The kid’s
eyes followed my every move. I’d lost one of the books. Dammit. Then I saw it,
lying about ten feet away against the curb. A Khrynsani shaman spotted it at
the same time. His eyes went wide and he dove for the book and snatched it up.
I scrambled to my feet. He tried to run, but he didn’t get far. I tackled him
at the knees and we both went down. Ugly wrestling ensued. The shaman had been
taught in a temple. I’d been taught to beat the crap out of anyone who took
something of mine. It didn’t take me long to get my book back.

A
pair of strong hands jerked me to my feet and dragged me into an alley.

I
went for my switchblade, but he got there first. Only two men knew where I kept
it. Phaelan was one. The other was the tall goblin wearing rough leathers whose
entire body had me pinned against the alley wall. His hair fell in a dark,
silken curtain around us both. He had my switchblade, but I had his wrist.

Tamnais
Nathrach.

I was
breathing heavily and so was he. I’d just wrestled a Khrynsani shaman. I didn’t
know what Tam’s excuse was— or what the hell he was doing here.

I
drew breath to ask, then held it when a Khrynsani shaman ducked around the
corner into the alley. His back was to us, his hands glowing red with an
unreleased spell. Tam clapped his other hand over my mouth. He needn’t have
bothered; I wasn’t going to make a sound. It was Darshan, the shaman who had
recognized me. Neither one of us moved, but the shaman must have sensed that he
wasn’t alone in the alley. He turned, and when he saw the two of us, he smiled
slowly and the red glow faded from his hands.

“Primaru
Nathrach, I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses. You arrived just in time
to keep your end of our bargain.”

Bargain?

Darshan
wanted me—and he knew Tam by a title he’d tried to bury along with his past.

The
Khrynsani held a small vial in his hand. I’d seen its twin a few minutes ago.

His
smile twisted into a leer, fangs peeking into view. “Do you require this, or do
you wish to subdue her yourself?”

Tam
violently hissed a single word and Darshan froze, his eyes wide with disbelief,
strangled sounds coming from between paralyzed lips. Lips that I knew no air
would ever pass through again. Strangled turned to gurgling. Tam repeated the
same word over and over, each time deeper, softer, and more sibilant until the
word resolved itself into a serpent’s hiss.