A Dance of Shadows

EPILOGUE

No one had slept the rest of the night in the Connington mansion. Guards rushed about, suddenly without anyone in charge, and each one nervous about what the death of Stephen meant to him. Lord Gandrem assumed control with ease, settling into a role he’d known his entire life. He knew how to give men orders, how to instruct them, in ways others wouldn’t understand. His place in charge of them would only last a few days, at least until proceedings could begin, and a temporary steward could be placed in charge of the Connington fortune. Zusa respected him, yet feared him as well, for every time she looked she saw Melody there at his side, his hand in hers.

Zusa walked down the hallway, glaring at any guard who looked twice at her. Morning had come, yet the tension remained. It’d been a long couple of years establishing Leon’s heir. With no remaining sons, illegitimate or otherwise, it’d be a terrible squabble among the scattered remnants of the Connington family. She felt anger directed at her in the guards, guards who had been treated and paid well, all of that potentially ended by her single thrust of a dagger through their master’s eye.

Alyssa lay on her bed, Nathaniel at her side, when Zusa stepped into the bedroom.

“Is all well?” she asked. Nathaniel glanced up at her, and she saw the exhaustion in his eyes, which were bloodshot and wet with tears. Zusa smiled at him, wishing she could lend him strength… not that she had much left to lend.

“I’ve known better days,” Alyssa said. A cloth was over her face, hiding the empty sockets. “The priests say they can do nothing. I’ve sent Terrance to find the finest glass-smith in the land. I may not be able to see, but I’ll have eyes, damn it, beautiful green eyes…”

She was crying, and no squeezing of her hands by her son seemed able to stop it. Zusa felt a burden growing in her chest. She wished she could say something, do something, to make it all better. But she could perform no miracles with her daggers and cloak.

“Nathan, I need a moment with your mother,” she said. Nathaniel instinctively held his mother tighter, and Zusa smiled to show nothing was wrong. “It is no worrisome matter,” she insisted. “I just wish a few words in private.”

“You can wait outside the door,” Alyssa told him.

Nathaniel nodded, then blushed upon realizing she couldn’t see it.

“Yes, Mother,” he said.

Zusa shut the door behind him, then turned back to Alyssa.

“He’s so frightened,” Alyssa said, putting a hand on her forehead. “I can’t blame him. Even with Stephen dead, he thinks the guards will turn on us at any second.”

“A wise boy to fear it,” Zusa said, sliding up beside the bed. “We should return to our own mansion whenever you are well. I would entrust your life to them no longer.”

Alyssa nodded. “I’ll tell Terrance to make the preparations.”

Zusa sat down, and she struggled to find the proper words. “I killed him,” she said. “Not just Stephen, but the man who gave him orders. I tried to make it painful, but I didn’t have time. I had to get back to you.”

Alyssa reached out her hand, and Zusa took it, pressed it against her cheek. “I’m sorry,” Zusa whispered. “I should have been here. I should have been faster, shouldn’t have gotten caught…”

“It’s not your fault,” Alyssa said. “I shouldn’t have been so… blind.”

She laughed, laughed even though she could hardly breathe, even though she sniffled from her tears, which soaked into the cloth. Zusa squeezed her hand tighter, then kissed her fingertips. “Not again,” she said. “I won’t let you ever be in danger again. I failed you before, but I swear to fix this. I swear I’ll find a way.”

“Forget me,” Alyssa said. “Nathaniel is all that matters now. His role in our dealings needs to be increased tremendously. Every vulture will be circling. If Nathaniel is to be my heir, he needs to take it now, and show Dezrel his strength.”

“But he’s so young…”

“And he’s endured more than most have in their lifetimes. Gods help me, I’m blind, and he’s lost an arm. The vultures won’t just be circling, they’ll be pecking at our corpses.”

Another bitter laugh. Zusa hated to see her so, but she also couldn’t deny her argument. Everyone would be searching for weakness now. Potential replacements for Nathaniel would come out of the woodwork.

“I’ll kill them all,” Zusa whispered. “Any challenger, any threat. I won’t lose you, Alyssa. I don’t think I could endure it.”

Alyssa reached out, and Zusa leaned close so she could wrap her arms about her. As they embraced, Alyssa kissed her neck, then pressed her forehead against Zusa’s breast. “You can’t kill the world,” Alyssa told her. “And they must come to fear Nathaniel, not you. Just promise that if something should happen to me, you’ll raise him as your own.”

“Shouldn’t your mother be the one…”

More grim laughter interrupted her. “Melody?” Alyssa said. “I lost my eyes because of Stephen’s love of her. My torture was punishment for her own. I cannot prove it, but deep down I find it hard to believe Stephen acted on his own. The timing is too perfect. Stephen said it took him a year to discover who my mother really was… but what if it wasn’t a year, Zusa? What if her return and Stephen’s madness as the Widow were connected, and now she clings to John Gandrem, his wealth, his power…”

“If what you say is true, then we house a dangerous threat to you and your family.”

Alyssa’s smile was so bitter, so sad, it made Zusa’s heart ache. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” she said, reaching out and clutching Zusa’s wrist with a grip like iron. “Promise me. Promise me he’ll be your son before anyone else’s.”

Zusa swallowed, and it felt like nails were caught in her throat. “I promise,” she said.

Alyssa leaned back in the bed, and it looked like she relaxed for the first time since her encounter with Stephen. “I need some rest,” she said. “Send Nathaniel in if he’s still upset.”

“Yes, milady.”

Zusa left, and felt a pall settle over her. The walls of the mansion confined her, and she headed for the exit, wanting fresh air, wanting to be alone. At the doors to the mansion, Zusa stopped, for a great commotion had started. Soldiers, at least a hundred, were streaming into the mansion, shouting and joking with one another as if they’d arrived for a feast. Every single one bore the Gandrem family crest. Servants ushered them down various hallways, trying to find spare rooms.

In the center of it all stood John Gandrem, greeting his men. And with her arms wrapped around his waist was Melody.

“Our family will be kept safe,” Melody said, noticing Zusa standing there amid the sea of confusion. “Do not worry for my daughter, nor her son. You’ve done much to protect us, but it’s time we do this the right way.”

Zusa said nothing, just continued to count the men. When the number reached two hundred, she returned to Alyssa’s room and hid above the door, her body awash in shadows, her daggers at the ready.

Never again, she thought.

Tarlak could hardly believe what he was hearing, and even if he believed it, he certainly didn’t like it.

“Are you sure he wasn’t lying?” he asked, plopping down in his chair. Haern stood at the door to his room, hands on the hilts of his swords. “Priests of Karak aren’t exactly known for their truthfulness.”

“Trust me on this,” Haern said, shaking his head. “He didn’t lie. Whoever this Luther is, he’s set his sights on nearly every major player in Veldaren. The Gemcrofts, the Conningtons, myself, the thief guilds…”

“Why Thren in particular, you think?”

Haern shrugged. “The Suns and Thren have a connection, though I know little more than that.”

Tarlak frowned while rocking back and forth. “Every major player,” he said. “Every single one but the king…”

Haern chuckled. “Perhaps he thought the king too inept to pose a problem?”

Tarlak shot him a look. “This is no laughing matter. What you’re talking about is beyond dangerous.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” Tarlak insisted. “You want to travel all the way to Ker so you can infiltrate the Stronghold, to interrogate a priest whose name you can’t be sure is real, and who might not even be there. And this isn’t some ordinary building, either. This is the dark paladins’ home, their training ground, their own little private fortress. Damn it, Haern, I’ve heard horror stories about their dungeons that make Thren seem like a pretty butterfly.”

He stood, waved a finger. “And most importantly about this nonsensical plan… there’s no money in it!”

The wizard plopped back down in his chair and rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

“I won’t help you,” he said. “None of us will.”

“I thought not.”

Tarlak sighed. “You’re still going, aren’t you?”

Haern nodded. “They wanted us dead, Tar. You know I can’t leave us in danger like that. What happens if he tries again? We still don’t know what Luther wanted to accomplish. The Sun Guild was attached to it, and I doubt we’ve seen the last of them either. But why? What does Karak have to do with any of this? I have to know, no matter the danger.”

“So you’ll go alone? They’ll kill you, you have to know that.”

Something about the way Haern stood there felt off. His determined words belied nervousness. There was something he was missing, Tarlak knew, but what…

“I know it’s suicide to go alone,” his friend said after a pause. “That’s why I’m not going alone.”

Haern stepped away from the door, revealing Thren Felhorn leaning against the doorframe behind him, arms crossed, an amused expression on his face.

“I must say,” he said, glancing about Tarlak’s room. “I think I expected something more. And forgive me if I may be so bold, wizard, but I don’t think anyone has ever referred to me as a pretty butterfly in my entire life.”

He smirked as Tarlak’s jaw dropped open.

“So please… don’t do it again.”