Masquerades - Kate Novak [117]
"Or used magic," Mintassan pointed out.
Dragonbait pressed the panel that operated the secret door. Alias nearly ran through the secret passage. She hesitated only a moment at the chasm over the sewer to check with her sword that the bridge was still intact and crossed over the sluggish water below.
Dragonbait clucked with annoyance at her impatience. He remained behind to present the invisible bridge to Durgar, Mintassan, and the watch. Dragonbait and the sage stood guard as the watch crossed, but the quelzarn did not appear. As the others trooped up the next passage, the sage stood looking over the chasm's edge with disappointment. Dragonbait had to tug on his sleeve to get him to follow the others.
"I guess a watched quelzarn never surfaces," the sage said as he continued on.
They found Alias in the empty treasure room, leaning dejectedly against one wall, staring at the shards of the mirror that had been mounted on the wall. Save for the broken mirror, the room was stripped of all trace of the
Night Masks' treasure. The chests, the weaponry, the wands and staves, the iron golems, the table holding the tree of masks-all were gone.
"The mirror," Alias muttered. "I never thought about the mirror. As if the Faceless would need a mirror to check how his hair looked before his meetings. I'm such an idiot."
Mintassan bent over and picked up a larger sliver of the broken, silver-backed glass. "Nice workmanship," the sage commented. He held it out to Durgar. "Late monarchical period. Legend has it that there were several of these magical portal mirrors in Verovan's castle. They disappeared in the looting that followed his death."
"So all the Faceless had to do was pop through the mirror and carry the stuff back to wherever he has another mirror," Alias noted.
"No," Mintassan corrected, "all he had to do is order the iron golems to carry the stuff through. Much easier."
Alias glared for a moment at the sage.
"Then, unable to carry the mirror through itself," the sage continued, "the Faceless had to smash it so no one could walk through it and discover where he'd gone."
"Well," Durgar said, "while I'm willing to concede this might have been a meeting place of Night Masks and even a hoarding place for their ill-gotten goods, I can see no evidence before me of any creature known as the Faceless."
"There is a Faceless," Alias snapped. "Mist confirmed it when we spoke with her."
"Mist? Ah, yes. The dead dragon. She might have been lying to you. Dragons will do that, you know," Durgar pointed out.
"Mist's skull is gone," Dragonbait noted, peering into the pool, which had lately held the earthly remains of their former foe.
"I think, to be on the safe side," the priest murmured, "we should leave before the tide turns and traps us down here."
Durgar ushered the watch back down the stairs toward the sewer, but Alias remained behind, pacing the cavern floor with a barely concealed fury. There would be no end
to the evil the Night Masks brought to Westgate unless she captured the Faceless. She thought of the rag man who had died when the Night Masks burned Jamal's home, and the halfling who'd been killed in the explosion in the warehouse, and all the other people who were dead because of the thieves guild. With his minions and his smoke powder, the Faceless would continue to terrorize the whole city-no doubt he considered himself master of Westgate. Now he was somewhere safe, with all his power still intact, laughing at her failure. Alias let loose with a tremendous shout, a battle-cry from the north, a call for vengeance.
Durgar, who'd just looked back to ask the adventuress if she were leaving with them, took a step back in surprise, nearly tripping down the stairs. Mintassan felt his blood run cold from the emotion he sensed emanating from the swordswoman.
The saurial touched Alias's tattoo, kindling the link they shared, trying to infuse some of his