The Twilight herald

CHAPTER 25

Doranei stared at the speaking-hole set into the door, which shud¬dered with the force of being slammed shut. He resisted the urge to turn around. It was bad enough that he was standing flat up against a closed door, like an errant child made to stand in the corner and unable to see the mocking eyes on his back; it was worse that those eyes belonged to the Brotherhood. He'd been the butt of every joke since first going to the theatre, when Zhia Vukotic had treated him like a favourite plaything. Now, though his command of the local dialect was not perfect, he was pretty sure that the stream of invective that had come through the speaking-hole before it had been slammed hadn't included her best wishes and a warm welcome.

'Maybe she's eating,' said a helpful voice behind him. Doranei tried to resist the urge to turn and clout Sebe around his scarred ears; it would only start the others off again. Instead, he continued to stare at the door as though force of will alone could open it.

'Don't say that,' rumbled Coran, 'you might make him jealous.'

'Ah, neck envy,' Sebe snickered. 'Don't worry, my friend, I'm sure you're the only one to her taste!'

He endured it in silence, eyes fixed on the polished grain in front of him. Dusk was drawing in and a lull had fallen over the city. The streets had been largely deserted on the brief journey here, with only a few pockets of private militia protecting the houses of those rich folk still in the city, but he couldn't have risked coming alone. Zhia's men guarded the end of the street and they'd only been let through because the officer in charge had recognised Doranei from the theatre.

'Try knocking again,' Sebe suggested. 'You got such a warm welcome the first time.'

A spark of childish antagonism flared in him and he felt words rise in his throat. The king had warned them to keep their tempers in check; whatever magic was being done in the city, it was designed to turn folk against each other. Instead of replying, he reached out with his right hand and rapped smartly.

'At least he takes direction well nowadays,' Beyn said from a little further away. 'She's had a good effect there.'

Doranei's three companions had found places of concealment to watch the street in both directions; they had to assume the streets would not stay deserted for long. The officer Doranei had spoken to had made it clear he was getting his men indoors before nightfall, to avoid attracting trouble. Outside the city, armies waited like restless storm clouds, gathering in an ever-tightening funnel. The fighting at the Greengate was only a minor squall, but it heralded something far worse.

'He's a polite boy,' Sebe answered, 'always had a lot of respect for his elders.'

'True, but I hadn't realised he went for women that much older than he is.'

'You don't meet many that are so old; let's face it they're somewhat scarce.'

'My money's on him getting a crossbow bolt in the face,' Beyn contributed in a chirpy tone. Doranei almost smiled; the Brotherhood would bet on anything amongst themselves and once the subject had been brought up there was nothing that could distract them from their ridiculous wagers.

'I'll take him being ignored no matter how long he knocks,' said Sebe quickly.

'Nah; spat in the face and told to piss off,' said Coran.

'What's the wager then?' Doranei asked.

'You're joining in?'

'Absolutely.' Doranei did smile this time, confident he knew better than they how Zhia or her companions were likely to react. At any rate, he'd not have to pay the bet if it did turn out to be a crossbow bolt in the face. 'What's the wager? Anyone got one in mind?'

'I hear,' Sebe began, 'there's a Raylin called Mistress leading one of the mercenary armies, and that she's got two pet wyverns. A claw or a tooth of one of them from anyone who loses; that's the wager.'

'Agreed. Well then, I say I'll be dragged inside by a beautiful woman,' Doranei said.

Beyn spluttered. 'The boy's confident, I'll give him that.'

'Don't think it's confidence,' Coran said, 'I reckon he's just got good ears.'

On cue, the speaking-hole popped open again. Instead of the un¬shaven face of the man who'd answered it last, Doranei found himself beaming at Legana, though from the Farlan woman's expression, he could have been a cockroach crawling on the doorstep. Touching him didn't appear to be on her current list of options, let alone dragging him inside.

'Can't keep away?' she said, turning her head to see who else was standing out in the street. 'Or did you think today was a good day to take in the evening air?'

'Men from Narkang laugh in the face of danger,' Doranei replied, his Brothers chuckling in the background.

Legana gave him an unfriendly grin. 'Well then, you'll enjoy your journey home. It's after sunset that the lunatics come out, in case you hadn't noticed.'

With that, she slammed the speaking-hole in his face. Doranei's mouth hung open, frozen in the act of replying. After a few moments he shut it again. Nothing happened on the other side of the door. He turned to look at Sebe, who was crouched two yards away on his right, behind an iron railing that was choked by withered brown weeds.

The man gave a noncommittal shrug and scratched at his newly shorn scalp. Sebe, like many in Scree, had decided his long black hair was too great a nuisance in this oppressive heat. The King's Man had seen a lot of violence in his years of service and the jagged scars on his face and scalp attested to that. Without his ragged curls he looked like a battered, grinning monkey – which hadn't escaped mention.

Doranei was about to step back from the door when he heard the bolts slam back and it jerked open to reveal a scowling Legana, her sword drawn. Four burly guards waited a respectful distance down the dim corridor. Legana wore a thin white cape over her clothes; the trappings of the White Circle still had a powerful hold over many of Scree's citizens.

'What do you want? We don't exactly have time for social calls right now.'

'Intelligence, Legana. We've business to finish before we leave the city.'

Legana gaped. 'Have you not been paying attention to what's hap¬pening in Scree? There's not going to be a city left in three days; it's

a miracle that the fires haven't already levelled it. The Second Army has turned on us and is killing anyone they find, and your king is running around with less than a company of men as his only guards. I think you should forget about your business and start worrying about how you're going to survive. Whether you men from Narkang fear danger or not, you're fools if you have any goal now beyond saving your own skins.'

Doranei bristled at the comment. 'We understand the situation per¬fectly well.' He paused and lowered his voice so the guards wouldn't hear. 'Your lord has promised us help.'

'The Farlan are going to march on the city?' Legana whispered furi¬ously. 'Does he really want to get embroiled in this mess?'

'That's not our decision to make, but I do know he wants you to report for orders as soon as you can.'

'Damn, how does he expect me to serve a master and a mistress at the same time?' she muttered with a scowl. 'I can't keep running off for orders if he wants me to remain as Zhia's aide.'

Doranei let her fume for a little longer before coughing obviously. 'Could you let us in? As you pointed out, the lunatics will be on the streets again soon.'

'I thought you laughed in the face of danger?' She wrinkled her nose at him. 'Frankly, you stink like a month-dead hog; I don't really want you to come any closer.'

'You try smelling like roses when you've been wearing mail for days.'

She pulled open her cape to reveal a Fysthrall breastplate under¬neath. 'Some of us have been doing more than skulking in the shadows over the last few days, and we still manage to avoid having our own personal flies circling us.'

'So are we coming in?'

Legana sighed. 'She's just woken up.' She grabbed Doranei by the tunic and pulled him inside, waving a hand graciously to indicate that his comrades should follow. They didn't waste any time, trotting past Legana and watching the guards warily.

'I'll take you up to her study; your Brothers can wait down here.' She pointed to the formal reception room, hardly the place for soldiers in stinking leather and armour, but it was clear they had been using it as a barracks over the last few days.

Doranei grinned at his companions and followed Legana upstairs towards Zhia's study. The last time he'd been there, Koezh Vukotic had stepped out of a mirror and joined them for an evening at the theatre. That felt like a lifetime ago. He gave a slight shake of the head as he trudged behind the Farlan agent. Even considering the strange existence that had been Doranei's life for many winters now, he felt frighteningly out of his depth. In the service of his king, Doranei had murdered, stolen, lied and kidnapped. His loyalty had always been un¬questionable; he might not have been the shining light that Ilumene had been, but he knew King Emin trusted him as much as he did Coran. Rarely had he felt so adrift.

Now, in this city that shimmered uncertainly under a midday sun fierce enough to kill, the real world of loyalty and service felt a distant memory. With the day split in half by a savage and sapping afternoon, Doranei had found himself drifting through the streets as though it were all a dream – a dream in which he was terrified what would hap¬pen if his lord and the enigmatic enemy of the Gods living here ever ended up on opposing sides on the battlefield. They hunted a traitor, and he knew the king would be watching him closely.

Opening the door to the study, Legana stepped to one side to let him past into the empty room. Thick curtains covered the tall window and the room was lit only by a pair of candles on the table and the oil lamps flanking the door.

'Zhia is speaking to Mikiss. These first few days of being turned are difficult, she tells me. She'll be with you soon.'

'Mikiss? The Menin soldier she bit last time I was here? Does she really have time to nursemaid a fledgling vampire? I'd have thought she would be off to the fighting at the Greengate as quickly as pos¬sible.'

'A few more minutes won't matter,' Legana said. 'Fledgling he might be, but Mikiss will still be a dangerous presence on the streets once his head has cleared. The Greengate is in good hands; Haipar commands there and now her companions have come through the Foxport with some of their troops, the Greengate won't fall' She cocked her head at him, looking curious. 'If you're so worried about wasting time, what are you doing here? What intelligence do you need from us before you make your escape?'

'I told you, we have business to conclude,' Doranei said firmly.

He strode into the centre of the room and faltered. The table on his right bad been laid as though Zhia was about to sit down to dinner,

half a dozen shallow wooden bowls piled with food in the centre of the table alongside a lead-chased decanter of what he hoped was just a rich, dark red wine. The table was laid for two. Had she been expect¬ing him – or someone else?

'Have I interrupted your dinner?' he asked cautiously.

Legana gave him a sly smile. 'Not mine, but Mistress Zhia hasn't eaten yet.'

Without giving him time to reply she left, closing the door. Doranei stared after her, but once her footsteps had receded there was no sound from the other side. Sniffing gingerly at the decanter he satisfied his own curiosity: wine, and the rich scent of an old vintage at that. He'd have to be careful not to let this cloud his mind. Five chairs stood at the table, a strange long-handled sword hanging in its scabbard from the back of one. Words he couldn't read were detailed on the surface of the scabbard, the letters interwoven with trails of ivy and bluebells. The leather-wrapped hilt of the sword took up almost half of its entire length and lacked any decoration while the guard was nothing more than a ridge following the line of the hilt. It wasn't the sort of weapon he'd expect a lady to use.

Stop being a fool, Doranei chided himself. She's not a lady, she's a bloody vampire; strong enough to rip your arms off. That's probably as light as a twig to her.

He turned his attention to the mirror that Koezh Vukotic had walked through during his previous visit. Lifting it up to look behind, pressing his hand against the surface to be sure it was solid, he could find nothing unusual about it now. The only result was a greasy smear on the surface, and with a muttered curse Doranei tried to wipe them off with his sleeve. The resultant smudge was marginally worse than the finger marks. He looked around for a cloth, but other than the curtains he could see nothing.

He stopped and gave his reflection a grim smile. People are tear' ing each other apart outside and you're worried about getting the furniture dirty? just what is happening to you?

Behind him, the latch clicked open. His eyes shifted from himself to the reflection of the door as it opened and Zhia came into the room. Like Legana she was dressed in ornate armour, a white patterned skirt leaching to her knee, with tall boots underneath and greaves strapped over those. It was the first time he'd seen her in anything but elegant silk. At her hip was a sheathed dagger that matched the curious sword

hanging from the chair. What really caught his attention was her hair, dyed rusty brown again, presumably to reassert her links with the Circle now that there was an army at the Greengate claiming she was a vampire.

Doranei felt his gut tighten; he'd not thought about it the last time he was here, but weren't vampires supposed to have no reflection? Hadn't the Gods cursed their vanity as they cursed their betrayal? His mind raced as he tried to recall the scriptures he'd so studiously ignored as a child.

'Are you going to just stand there instead of greeting me? Normally I'd be pleased I could make a man stop and stare, but your expression is not that of the enamoured,' Zhia purred. Doranei didn't miss the slight edge to her voice.

'I can see you; how is it that I can see you?' he said, turning at last to face her.

'Because you're a clever boy,' she replied, 'and I shall give you a prize for it later.'

'You know what I mean.' His stern tone provoked a coquettish smile that froze him like a rabbit in an eagle's shadow.

'So serious all of a sudden, my dear? I rather like that commanding glare of yours; you really should use it more often. If you're going to pout until you get your answer, it is this; others can see us, we cannot see ourselves. The Gods said something about pride when they cursed us, but I must confess to being in a little discomfort at the time so I didn't pay as much attention as I should have.'

She raised an eyebrow at his expression. 'Oh, don't look like that; however majestic your Gods might be, they had spiked both of my heels and I was missing more skin than I care to remember.' She walked up to him and rose slightly on her toes to place a soft kiss on his lips. Doranei felt his hands tremble at the touch; his whole body ached at her scent. It took him a moment to regain enough control to slide his hands around her waist to bring her closer, but when he at last did so Zhia gave a contented murmur and linked her own hands around the nape of his neck.

When they broke from the kiss, Zhia kept a tight hold on him as she looked him in the eye, an enigmatic smile on her face. Despite feeling intoxicated by her presence, Doranei was still disconcerted by the sud¬den closeness. The fingers of just one of those hands on his neck could snap it without appreciable effort, and the inner light of those deep blue eyes were like none he'd ever seen. The closest equivalent he knew was the bust of Nartis that stood in the royal baths in Narkang: each eye was a flawless sapphire. It was a blasphemous comparison, he knew, but undeniable. Not even King Emin's cold, glittering eyes shone so brightly.

'Now; as pleasant a diversion as you are, I suspect that was not the only reason for your visit?'

'The king asks for your help.'

'And what do you ask for?' she said unexpectedly. Doranei blinked, distracted by both the question and the sensation of Zhia's finger stroking the line of his spine.

'I- I would like you to help my king.'

'Nothing else?' The stroking stopped as she pushed her sculpted fingernail into his skin, not hard enough to break the skin, but just enough that he could feel the prickle of pain there.

He made a show of thinking for a moment. 'Another kiss would also be nice.'

'Only nice? I must be losing my touch,' Zhia said, brushing his lips with hers before she pushed out of his grip and went to the table. 'Sit, have you eaten?'

He nodded, but still joined her at the table. She plucked a fat olive from one of the bowls and popped it in her mouth. A trail of oil ran down one of her fingers until she caught it with her tongue and meticulously licked it off.

'I thought vampires didn't eat normal food,' he said.

Zhia gave him a derisive look. 'Oh sweetness, and you were doing so well too. Blood gives me something of the person's life essence, that vitality that separates them from rock or water. It is that vitality that I lost all those years ago, but there would be a lot of hollow space inside me if it was merely magic keeping my body together. Far better to just build bones and muscles the same way a normal person does, even if the magic inside then makes them stronger.' She took another olive and sat in one of the white painted chairs there, indicating for Doranei to do the same. 'But I don't think the favour your king is asking for is an essay on the habits and physiology of vampires.'

'It isn't. We know you have had agents watching the theatre-'

'There's not a lot left of it now,' Zhia interrupted, 'and as for the spell carved all around the outer wall, I have only a vague grasp of how it worked. They managed to prevent my agents from discovering too much. Legana tells me it was Lord Isak who burned it down. There is nothing to be learned from the shell that remains.'

'But the players didn't die in the fire,' Doranei said. 'We don't care about the spell cast on this city, only the ones casting it.'

'The minstrel?'

'Amongst others.'

'Are they really so important to you?'

She offered him one of the bowls and instinctively he reached to take what was inside. Once he'd inspected the contents of his hand, Doranei's stomach sank. He couldn't even make a guess as to what it was, but the slimy texture and ridged green skin didn't inspire much confidence. Trying not to think any more about it, Doranei popped the object into his mouth and chewed quickly before swallowing it.

He cleared his palate with a mouthful of wine, then said, 'They are followers of Azaer; it's worth the risk if we can kill even some of them.'

'You fear this happening in Narkang?' Zhia said, offering the same bowl again with the twist of a smile on her face.

'No,' he said as he declined the slimy ridged thing politely, 'but it shows that Azaer is no longer content living in the shadows. How much do you know of it, even now? I doubt you've ever encountered any of its followers in the past. The shadow wouldn't have risked going anywhere near you, considering how powerful you are. Now it appears that has changed, and the shadow's confidence grows. It has made a grand promise of the horror it is capable of bringing; and it has taken great care in the slaughter of priests.' He leaned forward in his seat. 'Azaer wants the Gods themselves to witness what it has done in Scree, he wants them to watch, and to fear for their very existence.'

'You think it so powerful?'

'Powerful?' He shook his head. 'No, not powerful, otherwise it wouldn't have maintained such a low profile. But perhaps that is the danger; if few recognise it, then it can run unchecked for years – like the Malich affair, but on a global scale, and spanning centuries, perhaps even millennia.' Doranei frowned. 'Malich is dead and gone, yet now Lord Isak has learned the man's apprentice is in the city, he will not leave until that necromancer is dead. The echoes of Malich's deeds return to haunt us – and he was just a man from Embere. What if he had been an Immortal, with limitless patience and guile that we cannot even guess at?' He stopped, seeing she was not fully convinced, Have you ever heard of Thistledell?'

His question seemed to catch Zhia off-guard. After a while, she nodded uncertainly. 'In passing – was it something horrible, done the day before Silvernight? I don't believe I have ever heard the full story.'

Doranei shook his head. 'I'm not surprised; you won't find anyone willing to speak of Thistledell these days. This was the coronation festi¬val – always the most popular of our summer festivals because the king is extremely generous. It's almost impossible to believe such a thing could have happened in such a quiet little village, and over the years people have worked hard to forget – there aren't even any signposts pointing to Thistledell now.' Doranei hesitated, disquieted himself. 'I accompanied Ilumene there soon after I joined the Brotherhood, and what I saw scarred my soul. We stood there and watched the men from the neighbouring villages sift the ashes to unearth the bones. I still remember his words: "There are traces of darkness in our every deed. Whatever weakness was inside these people, were they any different to us!

'I low to see the shadow within a shadow?' Zhia said with weary understanding.

I)oranei looked into her eyes and remembered she and her brothers had been touched by a greater horror than he'd ever known.

'Azaer turned them against each other?' she asked.

'We don't know what happened exactly, only that they thought they had been blessed when a talented minstrel arrived for the cel¬ebrations… and then they tore each other apart.'

Zhia nodded slowly. 'And now your minstrel has come to Scree, to spread his traces of darkness here. I will give you one of my agents to guide you; Rojak and his companions have gone to hide in the slums to the south.'

She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, then began to whisper in some flowing arcane tongue Doranei could not recognise. He sat still until Zhia looked at him again, her earlier joviality gone. With a sigh the vampire pushed herself to her feet.

'My agent is waiting for you downstairs; he will follow your com¬mands without question.' She took Doranei's hand and held his fingers up to her cheek a moment. 'Once you have your revenge, leave this place before it consumes you, or the minstrel will have won after all.'

Zhia gave him a delicate kiss, hardly more than a brush on the lips, for all the tenderness in her eyes. 'Be careful; revenge is a wild beast and more often than not it isn't just the intended who are hurt as it rampages. I wouldn't like to see you hurt, not when you're such a sweet diversion. Tell your king he's lost this round, it's time to salvage what is left and prepare for the next.'

Doranei nodded dumbly and yielded to her gentle urging towards the door, but something stayed his hand as he opened it. Turning, he looked back at Zhia who was standing perfectly still in the centre of the room, her hands clasped together.

'What horrified the king about Thistledell was not that such a thing could happen, but what it meant. It isn't Azaer's way to force others, only to urge them. If we are all capable of such things, if that evil lives within every one of us, how can we hope to fight it?'

With that he turned to go, but before he could shut the door behind him Zhia called out, her voice as vulnerable as a child's, 'It's choice that makes you human; never forget that, just as it is fear that makes you less than human. Fear the darkness inside you and it will consume you – accepting that it is there is the only way to conquer it. Remember, Doranei, that you will always have a choice. However hard it might be, there is always choice.'

Zhia sat and watched the candles burn slowly down. Outside, the city was strangely silent, but it remained as hot as ever. She'd hoped the destruction of the theatre would lessen that at least, but the sun had burned down as fiercely as it had the previous day. She sighed and reached for the wine, filling the goblets on the table. As she set the decanter down, the latch on the door clicked open again. The man who entered wore a studded leather surcoat and had crossed scimitars sheathed on his back. He was bloodied and bruised, but he hadn't bothered to clean the filth and gore from his skin or clothes; only the linen bandage around his neck was fresh.

Oh, honestly, Zhia thought to herself as she indicated the other seat. 'Is that bandage entirely necessary, Major? It will stand out a bit when you return to the Greengate.'

He grunted and walked behind the chair, resting his elbows on the back as he cast an unfriendly look over the food at her. She could see in his eyes that the gesture was intended exactly as she'd seen it. 'Not exactly my problem. You wanted to see me?'

'A little civility wouldn't hurt, Major. I doubt the rations for the garrison are quite so good, and you must be hungry.'

'True,' Amber growled, 'but I don't see you offering it to the rest of them as well. Let me make this clear for you; this is not my cause and it isn't my city, but I bleed in battle alongside the men still out there. I don't particularly enjoy abandoning them to go and have dinner with the woman who holds the purse strings.'

'Your sense of honour is admirable,' Zhia said, careful not to rise to his antagonistic tone, 'but I expect your sense of duty to your lord supercedes it.'

'Of course it does.'

'Then sit.'

When she didn't say any more, Amber's frustration eventually sub¬sided. He slipped off his baldric and hung his scimitars on the back of the chair and slumped down at the table.

'Good boy. Now, your mission in Scree is over. The Skull you were sent here to find is doubtless out of your reach, your companions are dead or lost to you and the necromancer – if he ever was a true ally of yours – isn't going to be healthy company soon. Perhaps I can offer you an alternative to returning home empty-handed.'

'I'm not for sale.' Amber's fingers tightened into a fist.

'I'm not proposing you become a mercenary; merely that I help you get home.'

'I don't understand,' Amber said.

Zhia offered him one of the goblets of wine and he took it, his expression one of puzzlement. 'The White Circle is finished,' she said. 'The remnants of their power are in Scree, and soon Scree will be no more. I shall have to revise my position in the Land to be a little less obvious, perhaps, but I will certainly outlast the Circle and its members.'

'What's this got to do with me?'

'Well, Major, you might have assumed I've made an alliance with the King of Narkang, but I assure you it is nothing more than an understanding. I have enough enemies that I see no reason to make more. Their goals are not mine, but as long as their plans don't conflict with my own, there's no need for trouble – and it's always sensible to be owed a favour when you're the enemy of the Gods.'

'And you want to offer the same to Lord Styrax?'

'In a fashion. I have no plans for empire-building, so I see no reason to get in the way of his. I've spent many years among your people; I've seen them at their weakest and at their strongest. Right now, they are led by a man whose footsteps echo across the entire Land. I think he would be a good man to come to an understanding with before our paths cross.'

'You don't care that he invaded your homeland and killed your brother?' Amber asked incredulously.

'Did you expect a desire for revenge?' Zhia gave him an indulgent smile. 'My brother is immortal; as you've seen, he has recovered en¬tirely from the incident and will bear no grudge. Do you know how many mortals have managed that throughout history?' She leaned across the table and held out her hand. 'Koezh was an exceptional warrior when he was mortal; from the age of sixteen he was bested in single combat only three times, the first time by a celebrated Elven duellist who had offered to train him.' She raised one finger. 'The second time, by Eperal, Hit's most violent Aspect, who took a wound that would have killed a man, in order to disarm Koezh.' The second finger went up, then the third. 'Lastly, of course, Karkarn, the God of War himself. Since then, only one mortal other than your lord has managed the feat and that was largely down to luck. Koezh tells me your lord was not lucky; he was astonishing.'

Amber nodded. 'I've seen Lord Styrax fight; you have good reason to be worried.'

Zhia almost choked on her wine. 'Worried? My dear boy, your lord is a great warrior, but Koezh and I are not children. To take on both of us would show a severe lack of judgment, and I would think consider¬ably less of Kastan Styrax if he tried it.'

Amber drained his cup and stood up again. 'So what is your mes¬sage?'

'That if he speaks, I will listen. I know he has not crossed the Waste solely to conquer the Chetse, so don't even try to deny it.'

'You will listen? That's the entire message?' Amber pulled his scimi¬tars back on and grabbed a handful of flatbread from the table.

'Small steps, Major, small steps. When the Menin armies move north and near wherever I decide to settle, I'm sure the Cheme Legion will be at the fore. When that happens, you might have a visitor in the night.'

'What about Mikiss?'

Zhia raised her eyebrows. 'Don't worry yourself about him; Mikiss is better off at my side. All I ask of you is to be at the Greengate when the city guard needs you; they're not soldiers and they'll need one to lead them. My intention is to destroy the Second Army and use the Greengate to evacuate those we can.'

'Evacuate them? Why do you care about the people of Scree?'

'That is not your concern,' Zhia snapped. 'Just be ready when I give the order. I walked the city last night; the mobs have been working themselves up into a frenzy, and they will boil over very soon, tonight maybe, or tomorrow at the latest. When that happens, even the sol¬diers in this city will be in great danger, and I would save anyone I can. Once we are away, you will be free to leave, understand?'

Amber stared for a while, trying to see in her face why the vampire had been stirred to compassion, but eventually he gave up and just nodded. 'I understand.'

'Good, now return to your post,' she ordered. 'I have murder to assist.'