The Night Parade

Ten

The cloud of flame reached into the night sky like an angry fist. The building seemed to shudder, its foundations rocked by the assault. Myrmeen stood a comfortable distance away, on a low rooftop, with Reisz and Ord flanking her and Krystin standing off to the side with a sullen expression. Both the Harpers and Myrmeen were armed with bows. “There’s one,” Myrmeen said.

“I’ve got it,” Ord said quickly, a flickering light playing in his eyes. The source of the light was not the fire across the street; instead, the shimmering luminescence came from the bluish white arcane fires in which the shafts had been immersed, courtesy of Shandower and his sorceries.

Below, a creature with long, twisted horns growing from its head raced out of the building. It fell suddenly as Ord’s shaft pierced its chest. Soon there were more of the monstrosities flooding into the street, driven there by the dual attacks of Lucius and Shandower, who had sealed off all other means of escape from the burning building. As the monsters ran outside, they were quickly dispatched by the sure arm of the archers across the street.

For the past week, the Harpers had been mounting similar assaults against the clandestine homes of the Night Parade. With the information Shandower had gathered on his own and the invaluable help of Alden, who had been their eyes and ears at the Gentleman’s Hall, the Harpers had been able to rout the creatures from a half dozen lairs in the low towns. Tonight marked the first attack on one of their nests in the garment district. The Harpers were dangerously close to their hiding place, which lay only blocks away.

Myrmeen saw a shambling creature break from the doorway below. Without hesitation, she placed a mystically charged arrow in its chest. Although some of the monsters fell to cold steel, magic was required for the rest.

Krystin moved to Ord’s side. “Erin and Lucius should have been out of there by now,” she said with concern.

“They know what they’re doing,” Myrmeen said sharply. “We’ve all been at this a lot longer than you have.”

Flinching as if she had been struck, Krystin hissed, “I’m sorry I said anything.”

Ord glanced at her. “Your mom’s got a case of nerves.”

“She’s an idiot,” she whispered harshly.

“There is that, too.”

Krystin stared at the young man as if she were seeing him for the first time and smiled. Below, two figures raced from the burning building. Reisz drew back from the edge of the roof. “Cardoc and Shandower are out. Time to go.”

As a group, Myrmeen, Krystin, and the Harpers retreated to the back of the building, where they were met by Lucius, who levitated them to the ground. Shandower waited at the end of the alley, waving his hand for them to follow.

Within ten minutes they were back at Shandower’s safe house. While the others celebrated the victory, Myrmeen remained alone, examining the looms stacked in the corner.

During the last several days, Myrmeen had immersed herself in the work of helping to plan their attacks against the Night Parade. In her spare moments, she trained with Shandower and Reisz, learning new and more deadly techniques of hand-to-hand combat. Her only contact with Krystin had been when she shared her lessons with the girl, and that had been at Reisz’s urging. Reisz had taken a keen interest in the girl, and had been saddened by the steady disintegration of her relationship with Myrmeen.

Krystin went to Myrmeen. “You couldn’t be less subtle.”

Myrmeen turned suddenly. “I don’t understand.”

“On the roof you wouldn’t give me a weapon. When we’re in the field, you don’t want to hear anything I have to say. I’m amazed you’re willing to turn your back on me.”

“I told you, when you’re as accomplished as the rest of us, we’ll arm you.”

Krystin hugged herself. “Why are you lying to me? If you don’t want me around, just say so and I’ll leave.”

Cocking her head slightly, Myrmeen raised an eyebrow and said, “You mean you want to go to Arabel?” She hated herself for the excitement that had crept into her voice.

“No,” Krystin said firmly. “I can survive on the street. I have the feeling that I’d be more welcome there.”

Myrmeen’s mask of indifference fell away at once. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t want me here,” Krystin said. “If you can’t be honest with me, then at least be honest with yourself. I can pack up and leave at any time if you want me to go.”

The tall brunette seemed to shrink. Her shoulders fell and she leaned against the filthy wall. “That’s not what I want. It’s just that I don’t know how to be a parent. I’ve never been responsible for anyone except myself.”

“You think you’re responsible for me?” Krystin said, aghast. “What makes you think I want that?”

Myrmeen was silent. She bit her lip and looked away. Krystin had a point. Myrmeen had been on her own at a young age, and she would have resented a complete stranger walking into her life, trying to dictate her actions. Frustrated, she cried, “What is it I’m supposed to do? If I pay too much attention, I’m crowding you. Too little, and I’m being cold!” Krystin shuddered. “You hate me, don’t you?”

“No,” Myrmeen said, though it was true that she felt tight around the girl, unable to be herself. Staring into Krystin’s eyes, so like her own, the uncomfortable feeling deepened. “I just don’t want to make any mistakes with you.”

“You’ve already made the first. You just lied to me.”

“Krystin—” Myrmeen began as she reached for the child. “Leave me alone!” the girl cried as she turned and stormed off. Walking away, Krystin firmly resolved not to bring up the true reason why she had approached Myrmeen. For the past week she had been witnessing brief flashes of scenes playing before her eyes. The images felt like memories, but they were of events that she had never experienced. Over the past two days, the visions had come with increasing frequency. Although they only lasted a second, no more, the faces she saw were clear and distinct. One, in particular, an old man with a kind, gentle look, had returned more often than any other. She wanted to know if the others were experiencing such waking dreams, as the visions had disturbed her. But when she saw the distrust in Myrmeen’s eyes, the naked suspicion with which Krystin was still regarded, she chose not to bring up the subject.

“You’re going to walk into a wall if you don’t look up,” a voice said.

Krystin glanced upward and saw Ord approaching. She realized that she had crossed the length of the warehouse and looked around to see Shandower gathering Myrmeen and the Harpers to an old table they had appropriated from a nearby alley. Scrolls and scraps of paper were strewn about.

“Shouldn’t you be attending the planning session with the others?” Krystin asked.

“I will when my opinion means something around here.”

“I can appreciate that,” Krystin murmured. Gazing into Ord’s relaxed face, she was certain that she was watching a carefully maintained performance. He was still grieving for Burke and Varina. “How are you, Ord? How are you, really?”

“Quite good, I’ve been told.”

Krystin felt suddenly flushed. “Will you stop,” she said, embarrassed by how easily he had made her blush.

“Only if I have to.”

“Well, you have to,” she said, shaking her head.

“What?” Ord said with a laugh.

Krystin shrugged. “Don’t let it go to your head, but the only time I feel good anymore is when we’re together.”

Ord stood close to her, his hand lightly brushing hers. “I feel the same way.”

“It’s not that I feel that I can’t get away with anything when I’m with you.”

“Of course not. You can get away with anything you like,” he said. She took his hand, gave his fingers a slight squeeze, then sighed heavily as she heard Myrmeen and Reisz call out for the youngest members of the group to join them. Krystin shot an anxious glance in the direction of the others. She was worried that they had seen the slight touch and the look that had passed between Ord and herself. The young man was smiling and he seemed thoroughly unrepentant.

“You’re dangerous,” Krystin said, “very dangerous.”

“I know,” Ord replied as he led her to the table, where they listened to the plan for their next attack.

Later that night, Lucius left the safe house and took to the streets. His departure went undetected by the other Harpers, just as it had for the past three nights. Soon he was deep in the residential district adjacent to the financial quarter, waiting across the street from the entrance to a lavish inn known informally as the most fashionable spot in Calimport for illicit rendezvous.

Alden McGregor emerged from the front, traded pleasantries with the elegantly dressed doorman, then entered the street, moving quickly as he blended with the shadows. Above, in one of the many windows, a candle was blown out and a young woman stood near the glass, watching him depart. Lucius followed Alden at a comfortable distance. The boy soon left the main streets and became one with a maze of alleys and side streets. Lucius lost sight of the young man several times, and he was surprised when he rounded a final bend and felt something hard and flat dig into his side.

“Snick!” Alden whispered. “You’re dead.”

Lucius turned as Alden removed the hilt of the spring-loaded blade from his ribs. The mage’s stoic expression served to disguise his unease. No one had been able to surprise him like this before, and Alden had managed to do it two nights in a row.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Alden said as he replaced the weapon. “No one else offers much of a challenge.”

“I understand,” Lucius said, wondering if his age was beginning to show, if he was beginning to slow down. “We all must take our sport where we can find it.” He paused. “What do you have for me this evening?”

“This,” Alden replied as he withdrew a scroll from his jacket and handed it to the mage, who opened it up and examined the parchment. “I traced this from a map that one of Pieraccinni’s men left with his clothing while he was being entertained by the twins. You can see the piers, the shipping lanes, the checkpoints. Use your imagination if you must, but trust me, the Night Parade is in our hands.”

“Alden, they are going to know that someone in their organization helped us get this information,” Lucius said gravely. “Before they may have suspected that we were getting help from the inside, but now they’ll know.”

“That doesn’t bother me. I’m above suspicion.”

“What makes you think that?” Lucius said.

Alden shrugged. “Pieraccinni treats me like a son. I have his trust and the respect of all who serve him.”

“This isn’t your war,” Lucius said. “Have you thought of that, Alden?”

“But it is. This is humanity’s war. Besides, where’s the fun if there’s no risk of being caught?”

The mage had no answers for the boy. Alden’s words filled him, not with comfort, but with an all-consuming fear for the safety of them all.