Flamecaster (Shattered Realms, #1)(29)

Annoyance flickered over Usepia’s face. “The true faith. The Church of Malthus. Don’t pretend that you . . .”

Usepia’s voice trailed off as his attention was diverted. He eagerly extended a hand, palm cupped. Ash followed his eyes. Blood had soaked through the bandage on his arm and was again dripping onto the floor. The Darian brother was trying to catch the drops. Ash jerked his arm away, and Lila slammed Usepia’s wrist to the floor with a booted foot.

The Darian screeched like he was being tortured. “Aiiieee! That hurts!”

“Then stop that!” Lila said. Maybe it was the light, but her face looked to be a strange, gray-green color. The Darian brother went limp, and Lila removed her foot.

Ash pushed with his mind again. “Did he tell you why I was to be killed?”

“You are Adrian sul’Han, the get of an unholy union between a powerful mage, Han sul’Alger, and the witch queen in the north.”

Ash heard Lila’s quick intake of breath. He looked up, met her narrow-eyed gaze, and looked away.

Scummer. Never ask a question without considering what the answer might be.

Well, there was no jamming that cat back into the bag. After four years at Oden’s Ford, he’d been outed.

It also confirmed what he’d suspected. It was not a random kill.

“What if you’re wrong? What if I’m not the mage you’re looking for?”

The man smiled an awful smile. “Ah, but you are. And even if you were not, we have our own reasons to kill mages. We free mages from the sin of sorcery by drinking their blood.” Usepia seemed all too willing to share the good news.

Ash recalled the little goblet that hung around the blade man’s neck, and shuddered.

Lila held something between her thumb and forefinger in front of the man’s face. “What is this?” It was the stone that had paralyzed Ash.

Usepia squeezed the words out, as if they hurt. “That is Darian stone. It keeps mages still so they can be cleansed. It takes up the mana’in, the taint of sorcery, so it can be used for the good of all.”

Ash had never heard of Darian stone. Maybe it worked in the same way as an amulet—by storing flash, the magical energy wizards constantly produced. Only in this case, a wizard wouldn’t get it back.

“We’ve seen five of you,” Ash said. “Are there more?”

“There are many brothers in the guild, and we’ve all tasted your scent,” Usepia whispered. “You are a dead man, mage. We are the best, and we never give up. If you submit, I will take you quickly and painlessly. I am . . . quite skilled . . . with a knife.” Still flat on his back, he reached up with both arms, as if to embrace Ash. Light reflected off metal.

Ash jerked backward as the blade slashed past his throat. Then instinct took over. In one movement, he’d drawn his borrowed dagger and pinned the Darian brother to the floor with the blade through his chest. Lila all but impaled him a second time.

“Blood and bones!” Lila looked from the dead priest on the floor to Ash and back again, then shook her head in disgust. “I didn’t even search the bloodsucking crow. I’m too stupid to live.”

“I didn’t search him, either,” Ash said.

Lila pulled her blade free, using her foot to stabilize the body. “I’m sorry, Hanson, or sul’Han, or whoever the hell you are. He gave me the all-over crawls.”

Ash couldn’t argue with that. Usepia’s eyes were open, and it still seemed like they followed him around the room. Finally, he dropped his bloody handkerchief over the Darian’s face. Enjoy, he thought.

“Come on.” Lila spoke briskly, breaking the spell of indecision. “Let’s bind up your arm again so you don’t bleed to death. We need to change clothes, pack up, and get out of here.”

Ash stared at her, his thoughts muddled by loss of blood. “What are you talking about?”

Lila wiped her dagger on the assassin’s robe and shoved her sword back into its scabbard. She worked quickly, but spoke slowly, as if to the dim-witted. “The Peace of Oden’s Ford is broken. Clearly, princeling, Arden knows you’re here, and wants to cleanse the world of you. Unless you’re good with that, we need to go.”

I’m not a princeling, Ash thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

Lila crossed to the window, threw open the shutters, and scanned the empty, moonlit yard. Then pulled them closed again and latched them.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “Don’t open the door to anyone but me.” And she was gone again.

Ash was beginning to feel dizzy and weak from loss of blood. He needed to do something about that before he was too far gone. He sat down on the hearth, his healer’s kit next to him. Look on the bright side, he thought. At least poison’s not a worry. It would have been washed out long ago.

Ash cleaned the wound one-handed, then packed a poultice of herbs over it. He was in the process of trying to wrap it again when there came a tapping at the door.

It was Lila, dressed in clean, nondescript clothing, saddlebags over her shoulder. She’d scrubbed the blood off her face and hands, too.

Dropping her bags by the door, she gripped Ash’s elbow and led him back to the hearth. “Here, let me help with that. We’ve got to hurry, and I can’t have you falling off your horse.”

She sat next to Ash and began wrapping, but not without wrinkling her nose at the smell of the herbs. “At least maybe the stink will keep those bloodhounds off your scent,” she said.