Curse of the Shadowmage - Mark Anthony [1]
Kadian's smile broadened. "Wrong choice," he whispered with a feral smile. That way was a dead end. Gripping his knife, he hastened through the archway.
Kadian came upon the petty lord moments later, in a small cul-de-sac lit by a single greasy torch. Realizing he could go no farther, the nobleman turned around and found himself facing Kadian. His expression of astonishment sent fine cracks through the thick layer of powder that coated his face. Swiftly, surprise gave way to dread.
The man licked his rouged lips. "What… what do you want of me?"
Kadian spun the dagger casually on a fingertip before returning it firmly to his grip. "Come now, milord," he said chidingly. "There's no use in stating the obvious, is there? You know exactly what I want."
The petty lord's reply was limited to a small, strangled squeak as he sidled clumsily backward. Kadian moved smoothly toward him. As he did, he felt a peculiar prickling on the back of his neck. It was a sensation all good thieves experienced when being watched. But Kadian could see no one who might be doing the watching, nor even any windows through which watching eyes might peer unseen. There were only the shadows of the two men cast by the guttering torch-tall, distorted silhouettes that played like malformed giants across the stone walls of the circular dead end. Kadian shrugged the odd feeling aside. Wasn't he a bit too old to be unnerved by shadows? He affected a cheerful tone and gestured with the knife.
"Hand it over, milord. That's right. Your purse. Don't feign surprise. What else would a cutthroat be interested in? Now don't let that disturb you, milord. 'Cutthroat' is simply a name, my title if you will. I don't actually cut throats-usually." Kadian dropped his voice to a low growl with that last word.
"Here! Take it!" the foppish man squealed in a choked voice. "Take all of it. I don't care. I won it only tonight playing at Dragon's Eyes."
The petty lord clumsily fumbled with the plump leather purse and heaved it at Kadian's feet. Kadian casually stooped to retrieve the heavy purse and stood, tucking it under his belt. The nobleman eyed the curved dagger in Kadian's hand fearfully. "You aren't… you aren't going to use that, are you?"
"As a matter of fact, I think I am," Kadian replied jovially. The petty lord let out a small whimper as Kadian slowly lifted the dagger. Then, with a deft motion, Kadian turned the blade and began using it to clean his fingernails. He chuckled to himself and looked up to see what the lord had thought of his little joke.
The nobleman was gaping, his beady eyes wide with terror.
Kadian sighed in annoyance. "Oh, stop it," he growled. "I told you, I'm not going to kill you, so-" He realized then that the petty lord's eyes were not fixed on the dagger. The man's gaze was focused above Kadian, and behind him. Taking in a hissing breath, Kadian spun around. At first, all he saw was his oversized shadow sprawled across the stone wall. Then he noticed something odd. Kadian was standing still, but Kadian's shadow was-
"By all the gods of midnight, it's moving!" Kadian gasped.
The shadow-his shadow, cast by the torchlight- undulated on the rough surface of the wall. The dark silhouette rippled, remolding itself. For a moment it coalesced into an amorphous blob, like a great stain on the stone. Then, with malevolent speed, the dark blotch spread, outlining talon, fang, and horn-the shape of a beast. Two pinpricks of crimson light flared to life like feral eyes. For a moment, those eyes seemed to burn directly into Kadian's chest. Then the shadow stepped off the wall.
The petty lord screamed. Reflexively, Kadian swung his head around and stared in dull astonishment. Another black, monstrous form, that moments before had been the nobleman's shadow, had also separated itself from the stone wall, opening its gigantic maw in a silent howl. Kadian