The Howling Delve - Jaleigh Johnson [119]
Crouching low, Cesira crept back to the servants' stair. Two down-more if any from the downstairs trap were still incapacitated. Still too many, she thought, plenty enough to box her in, and there was no sign of Balram. He must still be in the main hall. He wasn't going to make it easy by coming for her himself. Going to him would be beyond foolish.
Cesira tried to recall how many weapons and traps remained. Not enough to take out all of them at once, but if she could get a clear path to the garden-yes, it might work. Or she might die carrying out her plan.
"You were right," she said, holding Kail's emerald to her breast. "I'm an arrogant, stubborn fool." She'd underestimated Balram and the Shadow Thieves, and now she was hopelessly outnumbered. "Time to even the odds."
Aazen came through the portal, appearing on the rocky rim of the cavern floor before a circle of drawn weapons. The thieves saw Tarthet's body clutched in Aazen's arms but did not lower their steel. If anything, suspicion grew in their eyes.
"Where is Morel?" The man who addressed him was Geroll, one of Daen's men.
"Food for a demon, when I left him," Aazen lied. He settled the dead man on the floor and drew Morgan's dagger from his back. He'd picked it up on the bridge just before they'd entered the portal room. Tarthet might have corroborated his story. Aazen would never know. "Does the wizard live?" he asked.
"If you can call it that." Getoll nudged the unconscious Vatan with his leg. The wizard did not stir. "He's been like that ever since he lost his eye."
"His eye?" Aazen echoed, then he saw Varan's empty socket. So that was the link. "Perhaps it's best. Now we can safely remove him from the Delve."
Getoll nodded carefully. "Call the others back," he said to the man nearest him. "We have what we came for." He looked at Aazen, clearly reluctant to telinquish the authority he'd thought would be assured by Aazen's treachery. But he had no proof, and to accuse Balram's son without it would mean his death. "Balram will be expecting your report," he said finally.
"Of coutse." Before Aazen could issue an order, the portal in the shaft above his head flared green, and Tershus dropped through, wounded but alive. The halfling saw Aazen and ran right up to him, ignoring Daen's men completely.
"You'd better come," he said breathlessly. "It's your father."
Aazen stiffened. "What about my father?"
"He took a group of men to Morel house. They haven't returned, and there've been reports of fire in that section of the city."
Aazen grabbed Tershus by the arm, digging in until the small man yelped. "Bring the wizard," he said.
"What about the portals?" demanded Geroll. "We can't leave them open."
"My men and I were separated," said Aazen. "If you wish to eliminate any hope of them returning alive, by all means, close the gates. I'll be happy to explain your decision, and the manpower lost, to Daen."
He didn't wait for the man to formulate a reply. He shook the halfling in his grip. "Bring the wizard," he repeated. "Now."
Tershus pulled away, his eyes wide at the alteration in Aazen's demeanor. But for Aazen, the feelings that coursed through him were familiar, shameful, and completely unsurprising to him.
His father was in danger. His father-who'd sent these Shadow Thieves to kill him-needed his son. And Aazen ran to answer that need, as he had always done, as he would always do, for as long as Balram was alive.
Cesira knelt on the floor by the stairway, preparing to change form, when the bolt sttuck her. Her leg gave out, and she sprawled. Twisting, she ptessed her back to the meager protection of the pillar at the landing.
Below her, Balram lowered his crossbow, a weapon he hadn't been carrying when he'd entered the house. "You are far more fetching in that shape than any other, my dear," he called up to