A Prince Among Killers - By J. B. Redmond Page 0,100

night.”

Stormbreaker let out a breath. “Trials test the nerves of all who care for the apprentice.”

“It’s not that.” Cayn’s teeth, but Dari wanted to slap the man. “I mean, yes, it feels wrong to hurl Aron into mortal peril for no reason save guild tradition. But aside from that—there’s strange energy about. Unrest.”

“Perhaps you’re sensing the forces gathering to attack Triune.” Stormbreaker placed his own hands on the sill, and his tone softened—which was as much feeling as Dari could usually mark, when it came to him. “Such a thing has never happened in Eyrie’s history.”

“Stone can defend itself.” Dari spoke the words even as she thought, Like Aron. But she didn’t feel convinced.

Stormbreaker nodded. “Triune is more of a fortress than our foes suspect. And help will come to us, if nothing stops Lord Cobb or Lord Ross.”

When Dari didn’t respond, Stormbreaker lingered a few more moments, then excused himself, stating he would be in the Den library if Dari changed her mind about a late-night hunt, or a late-night walk.

His absence came as a relief to Dari, which surprised her. Yet she couldn’t stand the stillness and silence that descended on her chamber once he departed. After a few unbearably quiet minutes, she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and headed for the infirmary.

Triune’s grounds seemed unnaturally quiet to her, or perhaps it was the absence of Blath and Iko, who had gone to the main kitchens for mead and bread. It was traditional for Sabor to eat and drink when they prayed, and they would be keeping vigil for Aron until morning. As would she—though in her own fashion.

Soon she came to the crossroads that led to the Shrine of the Mother, that spot that had so bedeviled Aron since her arrival at Triune. She glanced toward the spot out of habit—and stopped walking.

A silvery glow rose from the direction of the Shrine, faint, barely detectable. Almost like a wisp of smoke. It vanished before she could take a step in that direction.

“I’ve seen that a few times,” said a voice from beside her, and Dari startled so badly she swung her fist as she turned.

Her blow connected with Nic’s jaw, sending him staggering to one side. He collapsed on the byway as she grabbed her smarting knuckles and let out a shout of surprise.

“Nic. Oh. I’m—I’m so sorry.” She ran to him, her heart squeezing from shock and regret. Had she damaged him? What if he went into a fit?

But he was already pushing himself to his knees as she reached him, and he was laughing. The bright, happy sound put her at ease immediately, and she appreciated him for his ability to relax her so easily.

“I think it’s me who owes you an apology,” he said as she helped him to stand. He rubbed the spot on his jaw where she had connected, and even in the moonslight, Dari could see his skin darkening. “I should know better than to startle a lady.”

“That wasn’t very ladylike, was it?” She brushed dirt off his tunic, grateful that she hadn’t made him bleed all over his clothing. “I don’t think playing the role of a proper noble female suits me well. What are you doing on the road in the middle of the night?”

Nic’s grin flashed in the moonslight. “I could ask you the same question, but I’d like to hope you were on your way to visit me.”

Dari felt her face grow warm. “I was. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I couldn’t either, so I told Snakekiller I was heading for the Den.” Nic’s grin faded. “All I can do is worry.” He glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the Ruined Keep. “I would have gone with him, though I might have been a liability.”

“Aron would have been fortunate to have your company.” Dari wished she could go to the Keep herself, just to see that Aron was intact and fighting his way through the night. She looked away from Triune’s far wall, and her attention returned to the byway she had been about to take when Nic startled her. “Did you say you saw something at the Shrine?”

“A few times. A light, or maybe some stray energy. It’s never very strong, and it’s always gone when I arrive.” He gestured to his misshapen legs and limped a step. “I’m not very fast, you know.”

Dari did know, but she had never felt pity for Nic. He didn’t seem to seek it either, but brought up his disabilities