Amber and Iron - Margaret Weis [41]
“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” said Nightshade. “I know what you want me to see, but I don’t. There’s nothing inside him. Not anymore.”
Gerard’s shoulders slumped. “All right. Go back and stay with Rhys.”
“I can help you talk to him,” Nightshade offered, feeling sorry for his friend. “I’m good at talking to dead people.”
“Just … go back,” Gerard ordered. A nerve in his jaw twitched.
Nightshade ran off.
“Cam is on his way,” he reported, adding sadly, “They don’t come much deader.”
Jenna and Dominique exchanged glances.
“Nightshade,” Rhys said, leaning down to whisper into the kender’s ear, “I’m going to join Gerard.”
“I’ll come with you—”
“No,” said Rhys. His gaze went to Jenna and the paladin. “I think you should stay here.”
Dominique placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, partially drawing it from its scabbard. The weapon began to shine with an eerie white light.
“You’re right. I still have blisters on my fingers.” Nightshade peered into the tree branches. “I’ll have a great view of the action from up there, and I can still cast my spells, if you need me. Give me a boost, will you?”
Rhys hoisted the kender into the lower branches of the walnut tree. Nightshade scrambled from limb to limb and was soon lost to sight.
Rhys walked softly, moving without sound through the shadows. Atta padded along beside him, her white patches of fur taking on a pinkish color in the red moonlight. Neither Jenna nor Dominique paid any attention to him.
“Here, Brother, take the torch,” said Gerard, handing Rhys the flaring light. “Now, back off.”
“I think I should stay with you,” said Rhys.
“I said back off, Monk!” Gerard flared. “He’s my friend. I’ll handle this.”
Rhys had serious misgivings, but he did as he was ordered, walking back to stand in the shadows.
“Who’s there?” Cam called, holding up his torch. “Sheriff? Is that you?”
“It’s me, Cam,” said Gerard.
“What in the Abyss are you doing here?” Cam demanded.
“Waiting for you.”
“Why? I’m off-duty now. I’m free to do what I please,” Cam returned, irritated. “If you must know, I’m meeting someone here, a young lady. So I’ll just bid you a good-night, Sheriff—”
“Jenny’s not coming, Cam,” said Gerard quietly. “I told her father and mother about you.”
“Told them what?” Cam challenged.
“That you took an oath to Chemosh, the Lord of Death.”
“What if I did?” Cam demanded. “Solace is a free city, or so that old fart of a Mayor keeps saying. I can worship any god I choose—”
“Unbutton your shirt for me, son,” said Gerard.
“My shirt?” Cam laughed. “What’s my shirt go to do with anything?”
“Humor me,” said Gerard.
“Humor yourself,” said Cam rudely. Turning, the young man started to walk away.
Gerard reached out, seized hold of Cam’s shirt and gave it a sharp yank.
Cam whipped around, his freckled face contorted in fury, his fists clenched. His shirt placket gaped open.
“What’s that?” Gerard asked, pointing.
Cam glanced down at a burn mark on his left breast. He smiled, then touched it reverently with his fingers. He looked back at Gerard.
“Mina’s kiss,” Cam said softly.
Gerard started. “Mina! How do you know Mina?”
‘I don’t, but I see her face all the time. That’s what we call the mark of her love for us. Mina’s Kiss.”
“Cam,” said Gerard, his expression grave. “Son, you’re in a lot of trouble, more trouble than you can ever imagine. I want to help—”
“No, you don’t.” Cam snarled. “You want to stop me.”
Rhys had heard those words before, or something very like them.
He was going to try to stop me.… Lleu’s words, spoken as his brother stood over the corpse of the Master. Then there was poor Lucy’s husband, hacked to bits. Maybe he had wanted to stop her.
“Now listen to me, Cam—”
“Gerard!” Rhys cried. “Look out!”
His warning came to late. Cam lunged, hands reaching for Gerard’s throat.
The attack caught Gerard completely off-guard. He fumbled for his sword, but he did not have time to draw it before the hands of the young man closed with bone-crushing strength around his neck.
Calling upon Kiri-Jolith, Dominique ran to the sheriff’s rescue. His sword flared with holy