He pressed the picture frame and went through the secret door, descending the stairs without the benefit of light. Soon he heard screams. They chilled the marrow in his bones, for he knew there was only one captive remaining in the cells. With fearful anticipation, he crept past the stands and peered over the edge of the baiting pit.
The cell gates were open, and Darrow spied Maelin through the bars of her cell. She lay across her bed, arching her back in agony while screaming her throat raw. On the other side of the cell floated Stannis, though the angle allowed Darrow to see only a fraction of his hulking body.
"I am beginning to enjoy our conversations," purred Stannis. "How good of you to give me cause to incorporate these delightful enchantments. It has been so long since I have employed them on someone other than my minions, whose screams are as street water compared to the fine wine of your delicious-"
Maelin cut him off with a searing string of obscenities. "You sick, demented monster! Just kill me and get it over with!"
"Charming to the end," said Stannis.
Whatever arcane terms he uttered, Darrow could not make out. The effects were immediate and clear, as Maelin shrieked and writhed against the unseen pain inflicted by the vampire's magic.
"Do not fret, my delicate princess. Your knight shall join you soon enough. Once he has served his purpose, you will have the chance to scream together before you dance with my brother. Perhaps he will let you face him together, like the elves. Not that you will provide much challenge in your present condition."
The thought of attacking Stannis never entered Dar-row's mind. He hoped to hide long enough for the mad vampire to grow tired of torturing Maelin, then slip down and free her from her cell. He crawled along the railing of the baiting pit to find a hiding place. Before he did, a feral hiss signaled his discovery. He looked up to see one of the vampire spawn clinging to the ceiling. The thing was completely hairless, with flesh as dark and rubbery as its sire's. Its mouth opened wide and round, revealing dozens of tiny, pointed teeth. Darrow froze, transfixed by the creature's hypnotic eyes.
"What's that?" called Stannis. "Has one of my cats found a mouse?"
A new surge of fear snapped Darrow out of his paralysis. He closed his eyes against the spawn's gaze and scrambled to his feet. He ran half-tumbling over chairs and couches as he fled for the exit. Behind and above him, the vampire's spawn pursued him.
As he reached the steps, he heard Stannis call out once more. "Fetch it, my loves. Bring it back to me, and I shall punish it."
Darrow felt an unearthly chill upon his back, and the stench of undying flesh filled his nose. He transformed as he ran up the steps, falling down to four legs by the time he reached the top. On four legs he gained ground on his pursuer, racing across the grand promenade, heading toward the warehouse.
The door was open, and beyond it stood Rusk, awaiting him. The pack was at his back, and all eyes were upon Darrow. Their expressions spoke more clearly than words that he was no longer one of them.
He stopped so suddenly that he skidded across the hall, his nails carving deep scratches into the parquet floor. With the pack before him and vampire spawn behind, he fled up the stairs. He hoped his pursuers would hesitate before following, but their howls were too close behind. He had nowhere to go but up, unless…
Darrow ran into the first bedroom he reached, dashing across the room to leap against the boarded window. The impact cracked the wood but did not break it. Shifting into half-wolf form, he slammed the door shut. As he shoved the bed against it for support, a hairy fist crashed through and reached awkwardly for the lock.
Darrow turned his attention to the boarded window, smashing it with both his fists. It broke away in seconds, but so did the door behind him. Taking a few steps back to run, Darrow hurled himself through the broken boards, feeling their splintered ends tearing his flesh as he burst out of the darkness of House Malveen and into the pre-dawn light.
Darrow barely felt the impact of the fall as he crashed onto a stack of pitch barrels. He scrambled down the collapsing pile without looking back.
Running alone into the misty morning streets of Sel-gaunt, Darrow finally understood how Talbot Uskevren must feel. Now he was utterly alone, with nowhere to hide from enemies on all sides.
Chapter 18
Tarsakh, 1372 DR
Tal woke to the sound of sparrows and the smell of fresh grass. The night's dreams evaporated in the morning air, leaving only a vague sense of contentment. His thoughts remained dreamy even as he rubbed his eyes and rose to stretch.
He was on his feet and was stretching his arms to the sky when the implications of his surroundings sunk in. He stood under a big oak tree surrounded by farmland. To the east he saw the walls of Selgaunt, their gray stone almost blue in the distance.
"Nine Hells!" roared Tal. "Where are my clothes?"
The sparrows burst from the tree, shaking down a few twigs. A big green leaf stuck to his naked chest.
"I hope these will fit," said Feena.
Tal turned to see her approach with a huge pair of homespun trousers and a worn wool tunic obviously meant for a man much shorter and fatter than Tal. Beyond her, Tal saw a sod home and a simple barn. Between the buildings ran a clothesline with several conspicuous gaps.
The events of the previous night became much clearer in Tal's memory.
"This is the worst part of the whole thing," said Tal. "You can't take your clothes with you."
When he saw that Feena wasn't looking at his face, he plucked the leaf from his chest and tried futilely to cover himself with it.
Feena laughed so hard she dropped the clothes to hold her sides. Tal stood indignantly for a moment, then jumped at the chance to grab the clothes and put them on. Feena was still wheezing when he cinched the trousers around his waist.
"You weren't so shy last night," she said in a tone of apology. Tal only blushed more deeply.
"I'm so sorry about that," he said. "I didn't mean…"
"Of course you did, and don't be insulting," said Feena. She was still mirthful enough that her reprimand didn't sting. "I think we both needed it, after all we've been through."
"I mean, I just hoped you didn't…" said Tal, confused, "… that I didn't do anything… anything that you didn't want me to…"
Feena laughed louder. "It wasn't the wolves, if that's what you're trying to say," she reassured him. "It was you and I, and while I can't speak for you, I didn't do anything I didn't want to do." She laughed again at his forlorn expression, and asked, "Why do you look so glum?"
"It might sound stupid, but it feels wrong to be way out here while Chaney's still stuck in the city. I don't want him thinking I've run off to leave him to face the music alone."
"I doubt he thinks that," said Feena. "He knows you aren't running away. The man practically worships you."
Tal snorted.
"I'm serious. You should hear the way he talks about you when you're not around."
"What, you mean all the times the two of you slip off together?" It was an exaggeration, but Tal had noticed that Chaney and Feena showed up together often these days.
"Please, Chaney is just a flirt. On the other hand, he doesn't beat me away with a switch, like some people I could mention."
"I've never-" began Tal. "All right. I could have been friendlier sometimes. But you came on pretty strong. If it weren't for Maleva…"
As he spoke Maleva's name, Tal realized he couldn't put off telling Feena what he'd heard at the Wide Realms. He took a deep breath and steeled himself to deliver the news.
"There's something you should know," he said.