A Dance of Cloaks - By Dalglish, David Page 0,135

life for yourself in Kinamn, or even Mordeina if you feel like travelling all the way across the rivers. But this is Thren’s city. Your father’s city. Leave, please. You’ll only get yourself killed trying to interfere.”

Haern shook his head.

“I’m no coward,” he said. “And you’re wrong. This city belongs to no one. My…Thren’s only scared people into thinking that. I can stop them. I can stop the fear. Can’t you go?”

Kayla stood to her full height and shook her head.

“We’re ending this whole stupid war. The Trifect dies tonight. Don’t die with it, Haern.”

She turned to go, then stopped. One of her throwing daggers whirled through the air, embedding into the wood roof beside Haern’s leg.

“In case you need it,” she said. He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot. Kayla saw how much fear there was within them, but she also saw his determination. The night before came back to her, reminding her of what she had wished to tell him.

“If I tell you something,” she said. “Something good, something hopeful, will you leave my operation be?”

Haern tucked the dagger into his belt. It weighed less than a dagger should, and its curve was greater than he liked, but it was vastly better than nothing.

“I promise,” he said, not sure if he was lying or not.

“Delysia is alive,” Kayla said. Her words struck him like a hammer. “I brought her to the priests of Ashhur. They saved her. Whatever vendetta you carry, whatever guilt, just let it go. Make your new life elsewhere, Haern.”

She blew him a kiss and then hopped off the roof, slowing her fall by grabbing hold with her hand for a brief moment. Haern didn’t come near to listen to her take charge, didn’t look down the streets where members of the three guilds seemed to come out of nowhere. All he could think of was of how Delysia had bled in his arms, the arrow piercing her back.

Hearn remembered the phantom image of the girl that had haunted his stay in Karak’s temple, of her pleading with him, of the cold fire and her insistence that she had prayed to deaf ears. All lies. The Lion’s lies. He felt his anger grow.

“Kayla,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

He turned and leapt from wall to wall, feeling his heart soaring at the news. Delysia was alive. He couldn’t believe it. Delysia was alive. Praise Ashhur, alive.

Despite his joy, he knew he couldn’t abandon his responsibility. He’d keep his promise, though. Kayla had said Senke was leading the other assault. Hoping he still had time, Haern dropped to the ground and raced his way toward Leon Connington’s estate.

At Kayla’s command, the three guilds split and surrounded Gemcroft’s estate. James and his Ash Guild took the east, Kadish and his Hawks the west. They used no stealth, no subterfuge. Tonight was a night of open power, a display for the whole city to see. The underworld had risen, its teeth were bared, and while the moon crept over the wall, they would taste blood.

“You see them?” asked Veliana, who had insisted she stay with the Spider Guild instead of accompanying her guildmaster. She pointed toward one of the lower windows. Its curtains ruffled and swayed.

“Guards” Kayla said. “There shouldn’t be many.”

“And if there are?” asked Veliana.

Kayla shrugged.

“Then we have more to kill,” she said as she raised her hand. Scouts from both guilds saw her movement and mimicked it. After a count to five, she flung down her arm. With the soft sigh of ruffled cloaks and padded feet, the assault began.

Kayla led the front, climbing up ropes that her guildmembers flung over the spikes at the top. She vaulted over, Veliana at her side and keeping up with every movement. Fifty of the Spider Guild landed on the front lawn. Once gathered together, Kayla charged ahead, her cloak flapping behind her and her hands clutching two of her throwing daggers. During their planning, the one thing they couldn’t account for with certainty was the deadliness of Gemcroft’s traps. Her heart in her throat, Kayla dashed across the grass toward the front door, praying she wasn’t one of the unlucky ones.

An explosion from behind knocked her to the ground. Rock and dirt rained atop her as several men screamed in pain. Veliana’s arms were upon her instantly, tugging her up and pushing her forward.

“Never stop,” Veliana shouted as they ran. More explosions rocked the lawn, turning its pristine slopes and gentle curves into a violent assault

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