Aeron obeyed, and Kesk brought his axe out from under his mantle. The edges glowed red as he activated the same enchantment that had enabled him to chop through the heavy chain so easily. Aeron caught an acrid whiff of hot metal, reminiscent of a forge.
"Are you just going to bash it open?" he asked. "You might spoil the book, it's crumbling as it is, and the box truly is liable to thunder and break your arm. Maybe you should send for Burgell Whitehorn, now that he's on your side."
"Just shut your hole."
Kesk waved his massive gray hand with its coarse nails and patches of bristle. After a moment's hesitation, a slender figure approached. To all appearances, he was an elf, short as Kesk, ivory-skinned, green-eyed, and clad in sturdy traveler's attire. When he spoke, however, it was in the cultured tones of the anonymous wizard. He'd masked himself with illusion instead of a scarf. Aeron suspected the yew bow in his hand was actually the blackwood cane.
"I thought we agreed," the magician said, "that I'd keep my distance."
"I'm settling this business now," Kesk said, "without another second of delay, and that means I need you to open this." He gave the strongbox a little kick. "Get to it."
"Very well," the wizard said. He dropped to one knee, inspected the coffer, and muttered a charm under his breath. "The wards are gone."
Kesk gave Aeron a suspicious scowl. The human outlaw shrugged.
"I'm no arcanist," the rogue said. "How could I be sure of that?"
"I suppose the important thing," said the wizard, "is what's inside."
He removed a silver key from his pocket. The metal shimmered subtly in a manner that made Aeron suspect it was enchanted, like Burgell's skeleton key. He slipped it in the lock, twisted it, and the box popped open. The magician raised the lid completely and lifted out the musty black volume inside.
It wasn't The Black Bouquet, just another old, similarly colored volume Aeron had pilfered from the shop of a used book dealer. But neither Kesk nor his employer had ever laid eyes on the original, and shouldn't be able to tell until they looked inside. For the moment, they gazed raptly at what they took to be the prize they'd worked so hard to win. Anyone would have done the same.
Excitement, however, didn't turn Kesk completely stupid. He never could have schemed and murdered his way to ascendancy in Oeble's underworld if he was that easy a mark. He still kept a wary eye on Aeron, but unfortunately for the tanarukk, Aeron wasn't the one who was about to attack him. The redheaded outlaw simply eased a step backward, out of what was supposed to be the area of effect of Sefris's spell. Her timing was perfect. A split second later, tatters of shadow exploded from a central point in the air like the petals of some hellish flower blooming all in an instant. Caught in the silent blast, Kesk and his employer thrashed as if some fierce beast had seized them in its jaws.
It was possible that Aeron could have killed them both in that moment of near paralysis, but he still would have had to contend with the other outlaws, and the two Gray Blades who, alarmed by the murky burst of magic, were pivoting in his direction. All things considered, he deemed it best to get Nicos moving away while everyone was still startled. The spell had stunned the old man, too. When, taking care not to touch the rippling corona of shadow, Aeron grabbed him by the arm and hustled him away from his captors, reflex kept him shuffling along until his senses cleared.
Aeron peered desperately around, looking for all the Red Axes who were no doubt rushing to attack him. The plan called for Sefris to throw at least one follow-up spell at Kesk and the wizard, Aeron's two closest and most dangerous enemies, to keep them from chasing right after him, which meant that for a second at least, he was on his own when it came to dealing with the common ruffians.
The man with the tattooed hands threw a javelin. Either he didn't guess Aeron still hadn't surrendered the Bouquet, he was too excited and full of bloodlust to care, or maybe Kesk had ordered his henchmen to kill the pest and be done with it no matter how the meeting turned out. Aeron jerked his father out of the way. The second spear flew wild, almost striking a curly-headed goodwife carrying a wicker shopping basket on her arm. She squealed. Other people started shouting and shrieking, too.
A bugbear charged with a mace in either hand. Aeron lifted a throwing knife, but then one of the Gray Blades scrambled into the creature's path. He almost certainly had no clear idea of what was really going on, but recognized murderous intent when he saw it. The Red Axe tried to smash him out of its way, and he parried the first blow with his broadsword.
A crossbow bolt streaked past Aeron's head. He didn't know precisely where it had come from, and was simply glad it would take the marksman a few moments to reload. He glimpsed motion and pivoted. A Red Axe was drawing his bow. Aeron poised himself to spring aside and pull Nicos out of harm's way as well. He would have succeeded, too, except that the arrow must have been another enchanted weapon, for in flight, it multiplied into three.
One of them struck Aeron in the forearm. Denying the shock that might otherwise have made him slow and stupid, he snapped the shaft off short so it wouldn't hinder his movements.
"Are you hit?" he asked his father.
"No," Nicos panted, "but you are. You have to leave me. I'm slowing you down too much."
"After I went to all this trouble? To the Nine Hells with that. Just watch my back."
A Red Axe armed with a short sword charged them. Aeron threw an Arthyn fang, and the snapping motion triggered the first flare of pain from the arrowhead still embedded in his muscle. Still, the knife flew straight, and caught the bravo in the chest.
An orc wearing leather gloves studded with copper rivets thrust out its hands like a wizard casting a spell. Aeron didn't know what to expect, but instinct prompted him to hurl Nicos and himself to the ground. A dazzling white flare of lightning crackled over their heads. He rolled to one knee and tossed a dagger. His aim was too low, and the blade only pierced the orc's thigh. Still, the Red Axe faltered, gaping at the protruding hilt in seeming disbelief, as folk sometimes did when they took a wound.
Maybe the orc would retire from the fight and take its magical gloves with it, but even if so, would it matter?
Aeron was hurt, and it seemed as if Kesk had brought his entire band of cutthroats to the square.
What was Sefris doing?
If she was dead, or simply too busy with Kesk and the wizard to cast the spell Aeron was awaiting, he and Nicos were as good as dead.
CHAPTER 17
Following the burst of shadow, Sefris regarded Kesk and the wizard with cold satisfaction. Her ambuscade had taken them entirely by surprise, and they stood dazed and all but helpless. Only for a moment, but that gave her time for another spell, one with an excellent chance of killing them outright, or failing that, so crippling them that she'd have no trouble finishing them off with her hands. Then she'd help Aeron and Nicos escape the rest of the Red Axes, which would probably provide her the chance to slaughter a goodly number of them. Afterward, the lone-wolf thief would give her The Black Bouquet, and as soon as she had it, she'd complete her work by butchering him and the old man, too. In a world where everything was dung, and all prospect of pleasure bitter and hollow, it would nonetheless be about as rewarding an evening as a servant of Shar could wish for.
She plucked a pellet of guano and sulfur from one of her pockets and swept it through a cabalistic pass, meanwhile whispering a rhyme. Ordinarily she much preferred spells of shadow and darkness to any that conjured fire, but she was pragmatist enough to use the most effective tool for the task at hand.