here she stood before him, almost as tall as he, though appearing so much smaller, so much meeker.
‘There are . . .’ She turned her head away, as if sensing his scrutinising judgement. ‘There are more of those things around.’
‘There were, yes,’ Denaos replied. ‘I took care of them.’
‘Took care of them how?’
‘How do you think?’ he asked, sheathing his dagger. ‘I found the other two and did it quietly.’
‘Two?’ She turned to him with concern in her eyes. ‘There were four others besides this one’
‘You’re mistaken, I only saw two.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I caught a glimpse of them from the porthole as they swam by. There were five in all.’
‘Five, huh,’ Denaos said, scratching his chin. ‘I suppose I can take care of the other two.’
‘Assuming they aren’t looking,’ she grumbled, retrieving her staff. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Are you certain?’ he asked, his tone slightly insulting as he looked her up and down. ‘It’s not like you should feel a need to fight.’ He glanced at the pale corpse against the wall. ‘After all, you took care of this one well enough.’
He blinked as the thing shifted beneath his eyes. It did not stir, it did not rise. Its movement was so subtle it might have been missed by anyone else. Yet, as he took a step forwards, the body responded to his foot striking the floor. It quivered, sending tiny ripples through the flesh as though it were water.
Flesh, he knew, did not do that.
‘Leave the dead where they lie.’ Whatever authority Asper hoped to carry slipped through the sudden crack in her voice. She drew in a sharp breath, quickly composing herself. ‘The thing’s almost naked; it doesn’t have anything you can take.’
His attentions were fixed solely on the thing lying at his feet. The rogue leaned forwards intently, studying it. Its own body had begun to pool beneath it. He let out a breath as he leaned closer and the tiny gust of air sent the thing’s skin rippling once more.
‘Leave it,’ Asper said.
Curiosity, however morbid, drove his finger even as common sense begged him to stay his hand. He prodded the thing’s hairless, round head and found no resistance. His finger sank into the skin as though it were a thick pudding and when he pulled it back, a perfect oval fingerprint was left in its skull.
No bones.
‘Sweet Silf.’ His breath came short as he turned to regard Asper. ‘What did you do to him?’
She opened her mouth to reply, eyes wide, lips quivering. A scream emerged, though not her own, and echoed off the timbers. Immediately, whatever fear had been smeared across her face was replaced with stern resolution as she glowered at him.
‘Leave the dead,’ she hissed one last time before seizing her staff in both hands and tearing out of the room into the corridor.
Ordinarily, he might have pressed further questions, despite her uncharacteristically harsh tone. Ordinarily, he might have left whatever had screamed to her, given that she could clearly handle it. It was simple greedy caution that urged him to his feet and at her back, the instinct inherent in all adventurers to protect their source of pay.
The scream had, after all, come from the direction of Miron’s room.
He doesn’t know, Asper told herself as they hurried down the corridor, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know. He won’t ask questions. He’s not smart enough. He won’t tell. He doesn’t know.
His long legs easily overtook her. She sensed his eyes upon her, angled her head down.
The litany of reassurances she forced upon herself proved futile. Her mind remained clenched with possibility. What if he didn’t need to ask questions? He had seen the corpse, seen what it was. He saw her sobbing. He was a coward, a brigand, but not a moron. He could be replaying it in his mind, as she did now, seeing the creature leaping from the dark, seeing her hand rise up instinctively, hearing the frog-thing scream . . .
He heard the scream.
Stop it, stop it, STOP IT! He doesn’t know . . . don’t . . . don’t think about it now. Think about the Lord Emissary. Think about the other scream. Think about—
Her thoughts and her fervent rush came to a sudden halt as she collided with Denaos’s broad back. Immediately, fear was replaced by anger as she shoved her way past him, ready to unleash a verbal hellstorm upon him. But his eyes were not for her. He stared out into the corridor, mouth