Wynn held her breath as Leesil exposed his hair. Her friends were almost to the safe house. She jumped slightly when Ghassan touched her shoulder. Looking up, she followed where he pointed.
Eight imperial guards emerged from a side street in the market. They moved silent and quick heading toward Magiere and the others. And worse for Wynn’s stomach, this was no accident.
Magiere had been spotted as she and hers had passed through the market.
Panic rushed through Wynn. She and Ghassan were too far away to act yet. Somewhere above, Osha and Brot’an would fire when necessary, but more guards could be coming. Magiere’s group had to reach the house at the right moment.
“What do we do?” she whispered.
Ghassan didn’t answer ... as the guards suddenly stopped.
Two of them turned and hurried off the way they’d come.
“That is what we needed,” Ghassan whispered. “Two have gone to report that the prisoners have been found. The others are waiting for orders.”
The domin let out a long breath, but Wynn didn’t share his relief.
“Chane still has time to get everyone into the cellar,” Ghassan added.
As if signaled, Chane hurried up the front porch, opened the door, and entered. Magiere, Chap, and Leesil followed him, but Wynn wasn’t certain any of them had noticed the guards lurking among the market stalls. And when she looked away ...
The two missing guards returned to the others. They had not been gone long.
A tall, thin figure in a hooded gray robe stepped out of the shadows behind them.
At least twelve more guards followed after that, and the robed figure raised one arm to halt them. He then strode through the guards already waiting in the market until he was in the lead. Without even slowing, he dropped his arm, and all the guards began to advance.
“Too soon!” Ghassan hissed. “Chane will never get them through the hidden door!”
Before Wynn could respond, one imperial guard cried out and toppled backward in the street. An arrow protruded from his chest.
Another went down as his shoulder was struck.
Shouts erupted as other guards scattered for cover, calling out to one another as more arrows struck. But that gray figure didn’t break stride and approached the front door untouched with five men behind him.
“We need to get in there!” Wynn whispered loudly.
Chapter Fourteen
Chane led the way into the house with Magiere and Chap directly behind him. He heard Leesil follow and close the door. As il’Sänke had described, Chane found himself in a hallway aimed straight ahead.
Through the eyeholes of his mask, he barely made out small lamps lining one side of the way. None were lit, and he could not see to the hallway’s end. He moved on without a word to the others. At least while wearing the mask he did not have to guard his expression.
The trek through the streets had been more difficult than anticipated. It did not bother him that the three he led all hated him. He welcomed their hatred as it meant he did not have to attempt any false civility.
What did bother him was their unmitigated hypocrisy.
Magiere viewed him as a killer, which he was—or had been more than now. But she saw herself as some paragon fighting the good fight. He remembered how this contradiction had once played out.
On the eastern continent in the dank forests of Droevinka, he had been trailing Wynn in secret as she traveled with Magiere, Leesil, and Chap. Wynn ended up separated from her companions and in danger, and Chane had had no choice but to reveal himself to protect her.
Magiere later stumbled upon them and attacked him.
He managed to step inside her guard, catch her with a fist, and knock her off her feet. As he was about to ram his sword down through her chest, Wynn threw herself in his way, begging him to stop.
He hesitated ... but Magiere did not and struck upward with her falchion.
The blade’s broad end cut into his neck and jaw. He never saw the second blow that took off his head. When he awoke much later in a shallow grave, little more than a pit, he was covered in freshly killed corpses and blood, though his head was back on his neck.
Magiere had not known that was possible—neither had he. It was only accomplished by the arcane intervention of Welstiel Massing, another undead and Magiere’s half brother.
During the fight, he had hesitated to kill. She had not, and yet she viewed herself as so much better than him.
It was insufferable.
He kept his eyes straight ahead, for hatred had likely turned his irises clear.
“Where’s the door to the cellar?” Magiere asked.
He heard the strain in her voice at having to speak to him.
“The hallway’s end, on the left,” he answered.
Chane drew the extra cold-lamp crystal from his pocket and brushed it against his cloak. It glowed softly.
“Where did you get that?” Magiere demanded.
His first impulse was to ignore her. “Wynn gave it to me.” And he walked on.
As he passed a large archway on the right, he saw a well-furnished sitting room beyond it, filled with low couches, chairs and tables, and framed paintings on the walls.
“How will you get us through the lower ... hidden door?”
This time it was Leesil who questioned him, but Chane did not answer. The half-blood could pick a lock but knew nothing of the arcane. Il’Sänke had given Chane a pebble and told him how to use it. The outcome depended upon whether or not they had been spotted entering the house.
So long as they had, the plan was fairly simple.
Once Magiere and Leesil were recognized and observed going inside, whoever among the guards saw them would slip away to report. Chane was to lead his group downstairs, open the hidden door, and take everyone into the secret windowless cellar chamber. Wynn, Shade, and il’Sänke were positioned close by outside, and the specter—in whatever host—would come directly for this house and enter. He would never risk leaving their capture purely in the hands of the imperial guards.
And the identity of the specter’s host would be revealed.
The domin insisted that Khalidah possessed the ability to easily see and breach the sect’s ensorcellment that hid the final cellar door from all senses, and he would enter. Il’Sänke also claimed that he himself would sense when this occurred.
The ease of entering the sanctuary unimpeded would leave Khalidah believing that he was in control as il’Sänke, Wynn, and Shade rushed the house. Brot’an and Osha would scatter any guards trying to stop them.
Acting as bait, Magiere would draw Khalidah farther inside the sanctuary as il’Sänke, Wynn, and Shade closed in from behind. After that, il’Sänke claimed he would be able to hold the specter in place, inside the host’s body, and trap him there in the ensorcelled cellar chamber until dawn broke.
Chane would know the moment came only when he had to fight to keep from falling dormant. And what then? He would succumb not knowing whether the others had succeeded. At that point Magiere’s task would be to drive Khalidah from the host by making him believe she was about to kill that body. The specter could not remain inside someone in the moment of death, or he might share it, and so would flee the host.
The only safeguard was the crystal atop Wynn’s staff.
Khalidah would have two choices: to be burned out of existence by the crystal or to flee from the house and burn in the dawn.
During a late-night talk in which Chane had been present, Wynn had asked, “What if the specter leaves the host but tries to take one of us?”
“I will stop him,” il’Sänke had answered flatly.