The Grieving Tree

CHAPTER 5

Grandfather Rat,” said Geth. He stared at Singe and only one thought came to his mind. “That’s insane. That’s so insane that even a madman wouldn’t try it.”

“Why not?” Singe asked. He stepped back from the table and paced around Bava’s studio, hands pressed together in front of his face as he thought. “If House Tharashk could do it, why can’t we?”

“Because they’re a dragonmarked house! They have resources. They’ve got a name.” Geth flung out his arms and bared his teeth. “What have we got besides a story and a dragon hunting us?”

Singe stopped his pacing and turned to Ashi. “Does the Bonetree story mention an ogre mage at the Spires of the Forge?” The hunter shook her head. Singe spread his hands wide. “So presumably Tzaryan Rrac came to the area after Dah’mir left. He might not know Dah’mir was ever there. We just need a reason to visit the ruins.”

“It doesn’t sound like Tzaryan is particularly fond of treasure hunters,” Geth growled. “Remember what he did to the Tharashk prospectors?” He held out one hand and chopped at his wrist with the other.

Natrac shifted uncomfortably. “Could you please not do that?” he asked.

Geth winced. “Sorry.” He looked back at Singe. “You see what I mean?”

Singe shrugged. “We don’t go as treasure hunters. We go as researchers, interested in the history of the ruins. Tzaryan fancies himself a civilized scholar, so that’s how we approach him.” He stood up straight. “I didn’t attend Wynarn and come away with nothing.”

Geth looked around at their group. Ashi, Orshok, himself … a savage, an orc, and a shifter. He snorted and rolled his eyes. “He’s not going to believe that we’re all scholars!”

“My bright young assistant,” said Singe, reaching out an arm to Dandra. “And our brute bodyguards.” He swept his other arm past the rest of them. Geth bared his teeth. Singe tilted his head and smiled. “Droaam’s a dangerous place. A scholar who wants to study Dhakaani ruins needs muscle to back him up.”

Geth started to snort again, but stopped himself and looked at the wizard again. He’d known him too long to picture him easily as anything other than a rapier-wielding, spell-flinging mercenary-but if any of them could play the part of a scholar, it was Singe.

Grandmother Wolf knows he’s good enough at making me feel stupid, the shifter thought. “Say we do it. We don’t actually know anything about Taruuzh Kraat. Tzaryan probably does. What if he challenges you on something?”

“Then I yield to his superior knowledge and he feels smug. I’ve never met a scholar who doesn’t enjoy feeling he knows more than someone else.”

“Except Tzaryan’s not a dusty lecturer with an audience of students,” said Natrac. “He’s a Droaamish warlord with ogre soldiers waiting to mangle people for him.”

Singe glanced at Dandra, then at Ashi. “Well?”

Dandra drew a deep breath and let it out slowly-then nodded. “It’s risky, but it sounds good.”

Ashi nodded as well. “It sounds a lot easier than trying to fight our way in. I think we should try.”

Geth turned to Orshok. “What about you?”

Surprise spread across the young orc’s face. “You’re asking me?”

“You’re coming, aren’t you?”

Orshok grinned, then nodded vigorously-though Geth doubted that he would have done anything else. He looked at Ashi. The hunter gave him a hungry smile and said, “I’ve never had the chance to fight an ogre before.”

Geth crinkled his nose. “I’m glad there’s a bright side for you.” He looked down at the maps on the table, the old and the modern. “So how do we get there? I don’t think we want to stay in Zarash’ak any longer than we need to.”

“You go by sea.” Natrac tapped the modern map, pointing to the coast of Droaam. “A town called Vralkek. It’s not much, but it’s the only real port in Droaam. It’s not too far from Tzaryan Keep, either.” He measured out the distance with his fingers. “A little less than a week overland, I think.”

“Then tomorrow we try and find ourselves passage to Vralkek,” said Singe.

Bava insisted that they stay the night in her house. Geth had to admit that the offer was more than agreeable-especially when Bava produced more wine to celebrate their discovery, the first bit of good luck they’d had all day. While they talked and drank in her studio, Bava got out a pen and ink and made copies of both her maps for them.

Eventually-the wine finished and the ink on Bava’s maps dry-they found space on the floors below and went to sleep. Or at least the others went to sleep. Geth lay awake, their narrow escape from Vennet playing out again and again in his mind. Sleep didn’t come. After a time, he rose again and headed back upstairs to Bava’s studio. He didn’t bother to uncover Bava’s everbright lantern. He opened the tall doors that led onto the little balcony and stepped outside to look out over the night-shrouded City of Stilts. Night in Zarash’ak was different from nights in the swamps-or in the forests of the Eldeen Reaches. Lights broke the shadows, spilling out from taverns and bobbing along in the hands of torch boys, but to shifter eyes that could see in the dark, the extra light made little difference.

What he noticed was the noise. In the swamps and in the Eldeen, nights had been silent, broken occasionally by an animal’s call. In Zarash’ak the noise was constant, even at a late hour. Dogs barking, voices arguing, the slam of doors, the clatter of footsteps. Laughter, singing. A distant scream.

Footsteps climbing the stairs to the studio. Geth glanced over his shoulder as Singe opened the door and started at his first glimpse of the figure on the balcony. One hand darted for his rapier, the other thrust out in the mystic gesture of a spell.

“It’s me,” Geth called softly.

The wizard relaxed, hands dropping, and made his way across the darkened studio with human night-blind clumsiness. “Don’t tell me you can’t sleep,” he said, voice pitched low. “I have Dandra believing you can sleep anytime, anywhere.”

“Someone needed to stand guard.” Geth turned back to face the night.

“Vennet and Dah’mir aren’t going to find us here.”

“Old habits stick,” he growled. “What are you doing up?”

Singe stepped up to lean on the balcony beside him. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Geth grunted. For a few moments, they stood in silence, then Singe asked, “What do you think it is that Natrac doesn’t want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.”

“What made you think he used to be a gladiator?”

Geth stared into the dark and narrowed his eyes. “Just before the attack on the Bonetree mound, while we were waiting for Batul’s orcs to move into position, we could hear Hruucan beating the light out of you-”

Singe grimaced. “I was fighting back,” he said.

“From the sound of it, you weren’t doing a very good job,” said Geth. “Natrac read the noise of the crowd like a gambler reads a game of cross. He said it was the sort of thing you picked up in an arena and I asked if he’d been a gladiator.”

“What did he say?”

“He didn’t give me a straight answer. I guess everybody has their secrets.” He turned his face to look up at the discs and crescents of the moons in the sky.

Singe didn’t say anything. Geth glanced back at him. The wizard was staring down into the street below, but it didn’t seem as if he was looking at anything in particular. One hand moved on the balcony railing, palm rubbing the smooth wood. “Singe?” Geth asked.

The wizard spoke without looking at him. “I remember something else that was said at the Bonetree mound.” Geth’s guts felt hollow. He didn’t answer. Singe raised his head. “You said we would talk about Narath.”

“I remember.” His words came back to him. Singe, about Narath-if we get out of this, we’ll talk. No more running.

The promise brought back memories of the battle at the Bonetree mound, of the crush of dolgrims and Bonetree hunters, of the shock of Dah’mir’s transformation and the acrid stink of the dragon’s corrosive venom. But it also carried all of the memories of an older battle, of black ash and red blood staining the snow of northern Karrnath.

He’d told Adolan about the massacre years ago. But Adolan hadn’t been in Narath.

Geth gripped the rail. “Singe, I-” He clenched his teeth, grinding them together. “I’m not ready.”

Singe’s silence was cold. He stepped back, his face hard and angry. “You’re not ready? You’re not ready?”

“Later,” said Geth. “Another time-”

“Later?” Singe spat back at him. “It’s been nine years, Geth. How much later do you need? I hunted you for four years after Narath. I only gave up because you vanished-if I’d known where you were I would have called in every favor anyone ever owed me and brought an entire Blademarks company down on your hairy backside. If the Bonetree hunters hadn’t attacked, I would have hamstrung you that night I found you in Bull Hollow and carried you back to Karrlakton to face the lords of House Deneith. The Frostbrand company died in Narath, Geth. Robrand d’Deneith might as well have died there.”

Geth turned away. Singe grabbed his shoulder. The shifter spun around and thrust his hand back. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Bloody moons, maybe I do!” Singe’s face was blotched with red. “The Aundairians that attacked Narath shouldn’t have been able to get past the waterfront-but they did. Treykin was on the barricades. When it was all over, Robrand and I found him. He was still alive-barely. My people had left him trying to hold his intestines in his body with his hands.”

The sound of Treykin’s braying laugh stung Geth’s ears. “Robrand said that once we joined the Blademarks, our people were the other members of the company.”

Singe’s anger hissed between his teeth. “Don’t quote the old man’s words back to me. I tried to help Treykin and he spat at me. He wouldn’t let an Aundairian give him the mercy that Aundairians had denied him-but before he died, he told Robrand the barricades had been overrun from behind and forced open. The attacking troops had found a way into the town. There weren’t many ways through the walls of Narath. Robrand and I only had to check two of them before we found out how the Aundairians got into Narath.”

Geth hunched back, the hair on his forearms and on the back of his neck bristling. “Don’t,” he growled.

Singe didn’t stop. “A sewer,” he said. “A dung gate that three men could have held. Should have held. We found signs of a struggle-but we found the bodies of only two of the three men assigned to that gate. There were tracks in the snow, though. Someone had fled.”

Geth clenched his fists-and his jaw. He said nothing. Singe gave him a look of disgust, then added, “Robrand went to Karrlakton in person to report the Frostbrand’s failure to protect Narath. The old man was a true commander. He carried the blame. He told the lords of Deneith that the massacre of Narath was his responsibility. The lords accepted that-and took everything away from him. Most of Deneith won’t even say his name now. They don’t want to recognize that he even existed.” He took a slow, deep breath. “I want answers, Geth. I want to know what happened.”

The hollow in Geth’s guts had grown, swelling into a pit and engulfing him entirely. He was numb. Narath surrounded him. Wounds he had thought long healed felt like they had been ripped open again. His tongue seemed swollen in his mouth. There were no words in his throat.

He shook his head, mute.

Singe’s mouth twisted. He turned and stalked back into Bava’s studio. A moment later, Geth heard his feet on the stairs.

The shifter crouched down, resting his cheek on the bars of the railing and staring out between them.

Dandra woke to the whispering of children.

It was tempting to go back to sleep. She probably could have done it even over the murmur of the children’s activity. Tetkashtai, though, was fully alert. Her yellow-green glow shimmered in Dandra’s mind, prodding her. Dandra! Dandra, wake up! Listen to them!

There was an edge of panic to the presence’s mental voice, but then there almost always was. Still, Dandra opened her eyes. The room in which she, Natrac, and Orshok had found space to stretch out was suffused with a pale gray light. Through an open window she could see a gentle, enveloping morning mist.

Natrac was still asleep. Orshok’s blankets were empty, though there was no sign of the druid. Bava’s children, all of them it seemed, were clustered together at one end of the room, a couple peering cautiously out of the window. Dandra could just catch their words. She blinked the haze of sleep form her eyes and tried to focus on what they were saying.

“… should wake Nena.”

“She doesn’t want to be woken unless it’s important!”

“I don’t like this!”

“Quiet!” One of the figures at the window was Diad. He raised his head over the sill, then ducked back and turned around. His eyes were wide and his heavy jaw was thrust forward. “They’re still there.”

A flash of unease set Dandra’s heart beating faster. She sat up. “Who’s still there?”

The children turned like a flock of birds, moving in unison to face her as she rose from her blankets. One of the smallest whimpered and ducked behind another. Ose and Mine, the twins, came forward, though. “Goblins,” said Mine in a low, serious voice.

Ose added, “They’re watching the house.”

Dandra glanced at Diad and the young man nodded. Dandra picked up her spear and crept forward to join him at the window. “Show me,” she said.

Diad looked outside again, then gestured-below the level of the sill-to the right. “There’s a cistern,” he said. “There are two of them hiding behind it. I think I recgonize them. They’re from a gang called the Biters.”

Cautiously, Dandra lifted her head until she could just see outside. Through the mist, she could see the shape of the cistern and the broad, round head of a goblin on the other side of it.

One of the goblin’s ears had been bitten off halfway along its its length. Dandra slid back down.

“There are more,” said Diad. “They’re hiding-I don’t think they know we’ve seen them. Most are watching the front door, but there are some at the back door as well.”

“How many?”

“We’ve counted twelve. There could be more.”

“It’s every goblin in Zarash’ak!” Ose said.

“No, it’s not,” her sister corrected her. “They wouldn’t all fit on our street!”

Dandra gestured for them to be quiet. “Diad,” she said. “Wake your mother.” She looked at the other children. “The rest of you stay away from the windows.”

She woke Natrac, then went looking for the others. Roused by a hunter’s instincts, Ashi was already awake and alert. Singe stirred reluctantly at Dandra’s touch-his eyes were shadowed by dark circles as if he hadn’t slept well-but he sat up sharply at news that the house being watched. “Vennet’s crew?” he asked as he kicked off tangled blankets.

Dandra shook her head. “The goblin gang from the webs. They must have tracked us down.” She helped him to his feet and led him and Ashi back to the room with the children. “Diad’s waking Bava. I’m still looking for Geth and Orshok.”

“I’m here.” Orshok appeared in the door of the room, still in the act of pulling his shirt over his head. Bava pushed past him to sweep down on her children with her arms spread protectively. The artist wore a loose gown that flapped and billowed around her. Both she and Orshok had an unmistakable flush on their cheeks. Natrac’s eyebrows rose. Orshok’s gray-green face darkened in a blush.

Bava fussed over her children, gathering them together and admonishing them to stay quiet. Only when she seemed satisfied that nothing had happened to them did she turn back to Dandra and the others. “What’s going on?”

Dandra repeated what she had told Singe, but Bava frowned. “That can’t be right.”

“Why not?” asked Natrac. Bava looked at him sideways.

“You’ve lived here as long as I have, Natrac. Have you ever heard of a goblin gang coming out of the webs looking for revenge?”

The half-orc’s forehead pinched together and and he thrust out his tusks. “You’re right. It’s happened sometimes when they’re fighting with a rival gang, but-”

“I’ve heard another reason they come up,” interrupted Diad. Everyone turned to look at him. He flushed and his mouth closed sharply, but Singe gestured for him to continue. The young man took a deep breath, then said, “They say the Biters are for hire. Pay the right price and they’ll do anything.”

“For hire?” Dandra’s gut felt like it was filled with stones. “Light of il-Yannah. Dah’mir and Vennet.”

Ashi frowned. “You think Vennet hired goblins? Why not send his sailors? Or hire half-orcs?”

“Don’t underestimate goblins, Ashi,” Singe said. “They may be small, but they’re nasty and there’s usually a lot of them.” Singe clenched his fist. “Twelve moons, even if Vennet did hire them though, how did they find us?”

Natrac paled. “Urthen knew we were coming to Bava’s for dinner last night. Boldrei’s hearth, do you think they might have-?”

“It’s possible,” said Singe grimly. “We could just be making assumptions, though. We need to find out what’s going on.”

“We need to find Geth,” Dandra said. “Il-Yannah, where is he?”

A look of anger flashed across Singe’s face. “Is his sword still here?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ashi told him. “It’s with his blankets.”

“Then he’s probably upstairs,” Singe growled. He turned and stormed for the stairs that led to the studio.

Dandra stared for a moment, then darted after him. “Singe, what is it?”

“Geth and I had a little discussion during the night.” The wizard’s voice was tight.

Dandra let out a hiss of frustration. “I thought that whatever you two had against each other had passed!”

“It hasn’t.”

They reached the stairs with the others not far behind. Singe started climbing. Dandra grabbed his arm and turned him around before the others could catch up to them. “What happened at Narath?” she demanded.

“Ask Geth sometime. See if he’ll tell you.” He pulled his arm away and kept climbing, flinging open the door at the top of the stairs.

Dandra caught a fleeting glimpse of Geth sleeping curled up in a corner, but no more than that-the opening door wrenched the shifter out of slumber. He uncoiled in an explosion of muscle and hair, leaping up and landing in a crouch, arms raised and crossed, ready to block or to strike.

Singe didn’t even hesitate before striding into the room. The wizard and the shifter locked gazes. Dandra saw Geth’s lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl of anger-and maybe even fear. She moved forward quickly, putting herself between the two men. “Geth, we have a problem.”

His lips seemed to peel back even further. “Whatever Singe told you-”

“No,” Dandra said. “A real problem.” She told him about the goblins without waiting for him to relax-though strangely, he seemed less tense once she had, as if grateful for an enemy to fight. Orshok had brought his sword up from downstairs. Geth crept up to the edge of the balcony and peered over, into the fog. He grunted, then slid back and returned to take the weapon and buckle it on.

“They’ve got us too well covered,” he said. “If we try to pinpoint where they all are, they’re going to spot us and they’ll know we’ve seen them.”

“What do you think they’re waiting for?” asked Bava. “Are they going to attack?” There was a fierceness in her voice, a rage that promised swift retribution for any threat to her children.

Singe shook his head. “If they were going to attack, they would have done it before dawn. I think they’re waiting to try and take us when we leave.”

“Goblins usually follow a strong leader,” said Natrac. “Take the leader out and they fall apart.” The half-orc had a deadly serious look on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Dandra saw Geth and Singe share a glance-their first without overt hostility.

“Good idea,” Geth said. “We still have the problem of spotting the leader, though.”

The doors onto the studio’s balcony stood open. Through them, Dandra could see the flat rooftop of the building across the street. “I can spot the leader,” she said. She pointed through the doors. “The goblins are all watching Bava’s house. If I’m over there, they won’t be looking for me, but I’ll have a clear view of them. I can use my powers to reach it and to call back to you.”

Singe’s eyes narrowed. “The long step and kesh?”

“It’s a long way to reach back with kesh,” she said. “Someone may need to stand close to the doors-it will make contact easier, but you’ll risk exposing yourself to the goblins.”

“I’ll do it,” said Singe. He glanced at the others. No one spoke against the idea. The wizard nodded to Dandra. “Be careful.” He stepped back.

Dandra tightened her grip on her spear and took a deep breath, then reached out to Tetkashtai. Help me, she said.

She could have done this herself, but Tetkashtai’s aid made it easier. The presence extended her light, wrapping herself around Dandra. She drew on the power of their union, bending it to her will, sliding it through the fabric of the world. She took a step forward and the air rippled around her.

When she put her foot down, she stood on the rooftop across the street. Just as at Natrac’s house, a wooden platform had been laid down on the roof. Unlike Natrac’s roof, however, no one had taken care of this platform for some time. Her sudden weight brought a sharp cracking out of the wood.

Dandra bit back a curse and dropped immediately to one knee, freezing in place and listening. A few harsh mumbles drifted up from the street below, but nothing more. She let out her breath and rose cautiously to a crouch. Picking her footing carefully, she crept closer to the edge of the roof. If this platform had ever had a railing to keep people from falling off, it was gone now. Dandra stretched out and looked over the edge.

The mist of early morning was slowly burning away as the sun climbed higher above the horizon. It wouldn’t be long before it was gone entirely. It was already thinner at ground level than it had been. Dandra picked out the goblins hiding behind the cistern easily. Two more were hidden inside an abandoned barrel. Three stood in the shadows of a doorway. More crouched in an alley that ran between Bava’s house and its neighbor. More still lurked on the far side of the house, peering around the corner onto the street.

All of the goblins had weapons at hand-knives, short swords, and spiked maces. And there were more of the creatures than there had been in the webs. The goblin with the torn ear had brought friends-but while he had been in charge in the webs, it didn’t look to Dandra like he was the leader now. None of the other goblins were looking to him. Diad had said some goblins were watching the back of the house as well. It was possible that their real leader was back there, but she doubted it. It seemed more likely that he would be with the largest number of goblins. The leader had to be at the front of the house-she just couldn’t spot him.

She looked across the street and into Bava’s studio. Singe stood just inside the doors to the balcony, carefully out of sight of any goblins below. Dandra reached out to him with kesh, stretching her thoughts across the distance to brush at his mind. He opened himself to her. Do you see the leader? he asked.

No. Dandra wove an image of her view from the roof and sent it to him through the mental link.

Singe let out a silent grunt at the goblins’ numbers and positions. That doesn’t look good.

I have an idea, Dandra said. We might be able to draw the leader out if you show yourself.

The wizard’s thoughts were skeptical. That could be dangerous. We might be giving ourselves away.

Then you’d better make it look casual.

Across the street, Singe looked up and gave her a grimace-but when he stepped out onto the balcony, yawning and stretching as if just rising, he didn’t show any sign that he knew either she or the goblins were there. He stood still for a moment and scratched at his chest, then turned around and went back inside. The reaction among the goblins was immediate. Dandra watched a flurry of activity sweep through them as they readied weapons and sat up a little straighter. From the far side of the house, one goblin detached himself from the others and darted across the street. She had to lean out from the roof and crane her neck to watch, but she saw him run into an alley alongside the very building on which she perched-somewhere from which a leader could watch unseen and protected. There we go, she thought to Singe with satisfaction. She passed the glimpse of the running goblin along to him.

And felt surprise shoot through Singe’s thoughts. I recognize that goblin, he said. That was Preesh-the goblin that was with Chain yesterday!

Chain? asked Dandra. She twisted her neck again to peer down at the mouth of the alley-

— just in time to see Preesh emerge from it with confusion on his round face, as if he had gone into the alley looking for someone but had not found them.

No one had come out of the alley since she’d been watching. At least not onto the street.

Dandra stiffened. Singe! she called as she pushed herself back from the edge of the roof. The alley across the street-ask Bava if it goes anywhere.

It took a moment for the wizard to reply. She says it’s a blind alley. It doesn’t go anywhere, but there’s an old ladder-

The weathered wood of the rooftop platform creaked behind Dandra. Heavy footsteps pounded in a sudden rush. Dandra twisted, throwing herself blindly to the side, catching a glimpse of a polished black cudgel as it flashed down where her head had been. Tetkashtai shrieked in fear.

Chain grunted and spun to follow her.

— running up to the-

Singe’s alarm blazed through the kesh as he saw what was happening. “Dandra!” he shouted, and his voice echoed both in her ears and in her mind.

She rolled to her feet with Singe shouting and Tetkashtai screaming in her head at the same time. It was too much to handle-she let go of the kesh and Singe vanished from her mind. Across the street, the wizard lunged back out onto the balcony, his eyes wide with shock.

“Itaa!” bellowed Chain as he surged forward, cudgel swinging.

Goblin shouts rolled up from the street below. Dandra saw Singe look down, then leap back into Bava’s house. The cudgel lashed out again. Dandra stumbled and it whistled past her belly.

Chain spun around to deliver another blow. Dandra jumped back again-and stumbled as her right foot slipped off the edge of the wooden platform. She staggered and the edge of the roof swayed in front of her, promising a long drop down to a street swarming with goblins.

Chain’s cudgel flashed down.

Dandra clenched her jaw and shifted her weight, pulling herself back from the edge. She pushed against the roof with her toes-and with her mind. Her feet left the uneven footing of the rooftop to skim the air. She slid back toward the expanse of the roof with the ease of thought, and Chain’s cudgel missed her for a third time.

The big man’s only reaction to her sudden display of power was a slight narrowing of his dark eyes. He shifted his grip on the cudgel, wielding it with both hands and beating at her with all the strength of his massive arms.

Dandra’s spear whirled up. She gripped the shaft, holding it across her body to deflect Chain’s punishing blows as she twisted and slid from side to side. The pale wood bent and shivered with each impact, but it didn’t break. The unrelenting force of Chain’s attack forced her back, then back again.

Burn him! said Tetkashtai. Visions of fiery white bolts and explosions of flame filled Dandra’s mind.

We’re on a wooden building, Dandra snapped back. There are people inside! And he’s too close! The instant it would take for her to draw on whitefire-or any of her powers-would be all the time Chain needed to get a solid blow past her defense.

“Chain!” she gasped. “What are you doing? We tried to hire you.”

“Tried.” Chain’s voice was a focused rasp. His cudgel hammered her spear again, the impact stinging her hands. “Didn’t. Someone else knew the value of hiring the best, though!”

Dah’mir! Tetkashtai wailed, her fear tangling Dandra’s thoughts.

Be quiet! Dandra moved back a little further. Chain followed her keeping her within his reach.

“What do you want?” she asked him.

“You,” the big man said. He drew back his cudgel.

Dandra slid away again-

— and her back hit something hard and unyielding, one of the chimneys that had inspired Geth the night before. Chain had backed her up against it deliberately. A thin smile creased the man’s face. His cudgel slammed forward.

Dandra released the force that kept her aloft, dropping instantly and crouching down even further. Chain’s blow passed just over her head to smash into the chimney pot. Sharp clay shards and crumbling mortar flew everywhere. Chain wheezed as a cloud of soot exploded into his face. Dandra pushed herself out from under him, jerking the butt of her spear up between his legs as she moved. Chain twisted to take the blow on his thigh, but his wheeze still turned into a hiss and he hopped back a pace.

Dandra spun around the chimney, putting it between her and Chain. She could hear the harsh, excited shouts of the goblins in the street, the distant, frightened cries of Bava’s children, the curses of the people in the building under her as the commotion outside finally roused them. A voice came floating up the ruined chimney. Dandra winced at the anger in it. “Sorry!” she called down.

“Bitch!” said Chain, his face blackened with soot. His cudgel whirled up. “You float, but you’re not getting off this roof unless you can fly!”

All the rage that Dandra had felt for the man after meeting him yesterday came flooding back to her. She spread the fingers of one hand and thrust them at the chimney. A wave of vayhatana rippled from her hand, snatching up bricks and debris loosened by Chain’s blow and blasting them at him. The bounty hunter cursed and spun around to shield his face. The chunks of brick that rained against his broad back made him stagger.

Dandra stepped onto the air and leaped over the remains of the chimney to fall on him as he turned back around. Her spear spun sharply and the butt cracked across his wrist. Chain yelped. His hand sprang open and his cudgel fell-but his other hand grabbed her arm. He dropped, rolling onto his back with a crash and dragging her with him. Caught off guard, Dandra flew over his head and slammed down hard onto the roof. She landed across the battered wooden platform. Planks splintered at the impact and pain arced through her back. The breath rushed out of her lungs. Her spear clattered down somewhere out of her reach.

Chain twisted around without rising and kicked out with both feet. Dandra rolled at the last moment, trying to absorb the impact, but the blow was still powerful enough to send her tumbling across the platform. She grabbed at the broken wood before she could slide right off. Right at the edge of the roof, fighting through the pain and Tetkashtai’s terror, she forced herself up to her hands and knees as Chain strode forward.

On the street below, the goblins were clustered around Bava’s door, pounding on it. A scattering of other people stood back on the mist-shrouded street, looking like they weren’t certain if they should get involved. No one was looking up at the rooftop.

Dandra swung back to Chain. He wore a sneer on his unshaven face. “Who’s the best?” he demanded. One hand reached down to grab her collar and drag her up. The other pulled back, curled into a fist.

The sudden roar that rose up from the street made both him and her look down to see Bava’s door swing open and Geth charge through like a raging beast. The shifter waded right into the middle of the packed goblins, clearing the way for Singe, Ashi, and Orshok to follow. The others had their weapons out, but it was Geth who drove the goblins before him with howls and curses. The little creatures fought back, though, shrieking and pressing forward. Dandra saw Geth slap one out of the air as it tried to leap over its fellows. He reached to his belt and swept out his sword, raising the weapon above his head with another roar.

For a moment, all of the goblins seemed to freeze, their heads turning to stare at the jagged, heavy Dhakaani blade-then their shrieks turned into yelps and their press into a frenzy as they fought to flee. Chain’s eyes went wide with angry surprise. He opened his mouth and drew breath to shout at the scattering goblins.

Dandra brought up her arms and drove both fists hard into the big man’s belly just below his ribs. It was like punching a wall-Chain’s muscles were solid-but the blow cut off his words. His shout became a strained grunt. His eyes turned back to her. “Bitch!” he hissed.

She shifted, jerking a knee toward his crotch in a feint. He twisted to protect himself-and Dandra spun a web of vayhatana around his cudgel, lying forgotten on the roof. She wrenched on the weapon and it leaped into the air. Heavy, polished black wood slammed into Chain’s head with a satisfying thump. His eyes rolled back and he crumpled.

Dandra heaved on his body, pushing him away from the edge of the roof. She panted and wiped her mouth as she stared down at him. “Dahr!” she spat.