Azure bonds - Kate Novak [5]
Grabbing her cloak from the back of her chair, Alias twisted it tight around her arm to muffle the light. The blue glow leaked out of the cloak's edges, and she held the arm close to her body. In an overloud voice she announced, "No problem, no problem! My friend here was just showing me a new magical trick that he hasn't quite learned yet."
Alias quickly circled around the table. She leaned over the tall mage's sprawled form and, to demonstrate that there was nothing wrong, helped pull him to his feet. Already most of the patrons had returned to their drinks, but there was a good deal of scowling and muttering.
Grasping the collar of his white-striped crimson vestments, Alias held Akabar's face close to her own and whispered in the tight voice she reserved to threaten people. "Never, ever, do that again," then added with a hiss, "I should have known better than to trust a greengrocer. I'm going to a real spell-caster to get rid of this tattoo right now Don't be here when I come back, Turmite."
With that, she spun and, clutching her cloak-wrapped arm to her belly, strode out of the inn. She caught sight of the barkeep's head surfacing from behind the bar just as she pushed the door open.
Cursing, Alias stormed three blocks before she dared to duck into an alleyway and unwrap the cloak. The symbols on her arm had returned to their normal appearance, if one could consider a tattoo that looked like pieces of translucent glass set beneath the skin normal.
Alias cursed again, this time without venom or passion, and headed toward the Promenade, Suzail's main street, looking for a temple thai might still have clerics awake at this hour.
2
Winefiddle and the Assassins
The first two temples she tried, the Shrine of Lliira and the Silent Room, the Temple of Deneir, were locked. Both were posted with identical signs stating they were closed until dawn services.
She passed by the Towers of Good Fortune-the huge temple to Tymora-because it looked too expensive, and the Shrine to Tyr, because it looked too prim and stuffy.
Upon reaching the Shrine of Oghma, Alias glared at the note tacked to the door. She ripped the paper from the tiny nails and let it flutter down the stairs. Pounding on the door with the side of her fist, her assault was answered by a sleepy caretaker who cracked the temple door open all of two inches and peered out at her suspiciously.
"I need a curse removed! Immediately!" she gasped with her best maiden-in-distress voice. The caretaker's look softened, but he shook his head, explaining that the holy mother was out of town arranging a wedding and that they had only acolytes within, new officiates who lacked the power to deal with such things.
"Try Tyr Grimjaws, Miss," he suggested.
Alias backtracked to the Shrine of Tyr the Just only to find her entry barred by two heavily armed guards. "Unless it's life or death," one informed her, "you'll have to wait." Apparently the church of Tyr had hired an adventuring party to deal with a dragon terrorizing the Storm Horn Mountains. The party's dealings with the monster had been anything but successful. The priests of Tyr were all occupied with healing the survivors and resurrecting the bodies of their comrades who had not been incinerated.
Alias was feeling desperate by the time she screwed up her courage to enter the Towers of Good Fortune, the Temple of Tymora. At least there was no sign on its front gates. She jerked on the bellpull incessantly until a priest appeared, yawning but not cross. A corpulent, pasty-faced man, he waddled forward to unbar the gates.
"I must speak with your superior immediately," Alias demanded. "This is an emergency."
The priest bowed as much as his bulk would allow and stood up again, grinning. "Curate Winefiddle at your service. An improbable name for a priest, I know, but we must play the cards we're dealt, right? I'm afraid, lady, that I'm all there is. His worship and the others are helping the minions of Tyr