Masquerades - Kate Novak [161]
Olive gaped at Kimbel with astonishment. If she'd told every halfling in Westgate that the Dhostar assassin had helped her, not one of them would believe her. She didn't believe it herself.
Kimbel blew on his hands. With a sly grin, he asked, "Haven't you ever seen a shocking grasp spell before, Mistress Ruskettle?"
The remaining Night Master engaging Olive was distracted just enough by the fall of his fellow for Olive to deal him a critical blow. Kimbel moved on to give another shocking grasp to the Night Master battling Jamal.
In the meantime, Winterhart dispatched the Night Master before her with professional precision just before the Faceless returned to the fray.
Olive turned to a corner where two Night Masters without swords cowered, waiting for the tide to carry them one way or the other. Olive barked an order for them to surrender or fight. To the halfling's delight, they surrendered.
Jamal and Kimbel bullied the remaining three Night Masters into lying with their hands over their heads. Olive looked out across the hall.
The superior teamwork of the watch was delivering the victory to them. For years they had fought their enemy in the streets, where the thieves could too easily go to ground. Now, however, the watch's more conventional combat training had the Night Masks pinned, and the thieves were surrendering in droves. Some lay down or played dead with the plan of creeping off once the battle front crossed over them, but these were thwarted by the watch, who dropped heavy nets over them before moving forward. Durgar was in the middle of the room, charging the dais, his glowing mace administering his judgment against those who had disobeyed his command.
Kimbel, Olive, and Jamal stood back and watched as the Faceless attempted a powerful strike against Winterhart, which she parried with a strength beyond any Olive might have credited to a halfling. "Admit your guilt, Victor Dhostar," Winterhart demanded, "and surrender to the watch, or you will pay for your crimes with your life."
The Faceless snarled like a beast, but admitted nothing, and neither did he surrender. He and Winterhart battled on. It soon became apparent which combatant had more skill. Every stab the Faceless delivered to the halfling she matched and bettered.
Olive was just beginning to realize that there was something familiar about Winterhart's parries and attacks when the Faceless's blade caught on the fabric of the young halfling's sleeve and tore it away from her arm.
Olive gasped, and even the Faceless stepped back in surprise. Winterhart's right arm was marked by an azure brand, a tattoo of thorns and cresting waves, with a blue rose at her wrist.
"I knew she had to be a cheap hero," Jamal declared with a chuckle. Beside the actress, Kimbel muttered some unintelligible spell words.
A shimmer of light rippled across Winterhart's body and the halfling began to transform before their eyes. Her frame grew to human size, her muscles took on the definition of a warrior in training, and her plump cheeks and rounded chin grew more drawn and angular. She became the former defender of Westgate-Alias the Sell-Sword. With the polymorph magic dispelled, the chain-mail armor, boots, and cloak she'd worn upon her transformation into a halfling were now revealed. The scar from Victor's ring still blazed across her cheek.
Alias swung her weapon with an uncustomary fierceness and let out a blood-curdling battle cry as she dashed at the Faceless. Shocked, the Night Mask retreated three steps, stumbled on his long robes, and fell on his back. The swordswoman stepped up to her foe and set her booted foot down on his sword hand, keeping enough pressure on it to prevent him from raising it. With the tip of her blade she pried off the coin mask, which obscured his features.
Victor Dhostar's face appeared at her feet. "I should make you pay for your crimes now, with