City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [48]
“I believe that we shall.” Bal spun forward in a blur of motion. Before Daine even realized what was happening, the rotting man smashed Daine’s hand with a powerful kick. The sword went spinning through the air and came to a halt against the railing. Bal drew his cracked lips back from decaying teeth. “Shall we begin?”
Daine nodded. He cursed himself for underestimating his foe … but he could see the same overconfidence in Bal. “All right. Let’s see if we can’t shed some light on things.”
Lei slipped her hand into her belt pouch, obviously catching Daine’s signal. She pulled a golden sphere from her pouch and flung it between the halfling and the half-orc. Both cried out as a cloud of blinding golden particles engulfed them.
Pierce drew his long flail from his back. As he shook the chain free from the haft, he sent Daine’s sword spinning across the lift with a well-placed kick. Daine knelt and caught the sword with his right hand, drawing his dagger with his left. He rose to his feet and leveled his sword at the chest of his foe.
“All right,” said Daine. “Let’s talk.”
Bal came forward again, moving with eerie speed and grace. But this time Daine was prepared. He ducked out of the way and drew a long, shallow cut along his enemy’s shin.
“You have no idea what you are dealing with,” Bal hissed through gritted teeth. Slipping past Daine’s guard as if he were a ghost, the rotting man pressed the palm of his right hand against Daine’s throat.
Suddenly ice was flowing through Daine’s blood. Chills ran along every nerve, and it was all that he could do to stay on his feet. He made a weak thrust, but Bal slipped under the blow. The next thing Daine knew, he was on the floor of the lift with Bal standing above him. The pain grew worse. He could see Pierce standing over the fallen body of the half-orc, with Lei and the rat girl beyond.
“Hold!” Bal called out, in a voice like a winter wind. “If I touch your friend again, he will die.”
Lei froze. Pierce kept the chain of his flail spinning, forming a singing web of steel, but he did not strike. “Should I shatter your comrade’s head,” he said, “I suspect that he will also die.” His voice was calm and collected.
There was a moment of tension that seemed to last for an eternity … and then Bal laughed, a long, dry rasp. “True enough.” He stepped back. “I apologize for my uncalled-for aggression. Perhaps we can help each other.”
Behind him, the half-orc moaned and brought a hand to his head.
Daine rose to his feet. He was dizzy and nauseous, but the pain seemed to be subsiding. “What do you want?” he growled.
“We are looking for Rasial. Zae”—he nodded toward the halfling, who was rubbing her eyes and glaring at Lei—“heard you mention him. I’ve never seen you before. How do you know him?”
The lift was approaching the ground. “I think I’d like to hear your story before I say much more. I know an inn not far from here. Can I offer you a cup of tal?”
Bal glanced at his comrades, the rat girl huddled in the corner and the warrior stretched out on the floor. “Perhaps that would be for the best.”
The half-orc, whom Bal called Korlan, split off from the group after they arrived in High Walls; apparently he had a personal errand to attend to. Zae and Bal accompanied the trio to the Manticore. The other patrons quickly dispersed once Bal entered the common room, though Daine couldn’t say whether it was due to a sinister reputation or simply his diseased appearance. The innkeeper grumbled, but once Daine gave her a few crowns she quickly returned with a pot of steaming tal.
Little Zae ducked under a table and watched them. Two rats emerged from the folds of her cloak, and their movements mirrored her own.
“Chew this,” Bal said, handing Daine a dried, leathery leaf. “It will help with the symptoms.”
Daine considered the leaf and finally began to chew. The worst it could do was kill him, and with the way