Tamlin let go the chains. "We must settle up first."
Zarrin gaped in horror. "Don't joke, Tamlin! Release me! The fire-"
"No, I'm sorry. Business before pleasure, as Father likes to nag. I have to renegotiate the gate tariffs." Tamlin raised his voice over the crackle of flames, groaning of the house, and clash of spells and arms outside. Smoke made him cough. "Father was not happy with our bargain. You wouldn't believe the nasty names I endured, Zar! Now let's see… As I recall, you get to collect duties on the North Gate and we got stuck with the western. Or was it the other way around? No, that's it. So we need-"
"Are you mad? Are you drunk or crazy?" Zarrin rattled her manacles. "Get these chains off immediately! Get me out of here or I'll kill you!"
"No, I'm afraid-ouch!" Rubbing his chin, Tamlin gouged a scab from an earlier fight. "Wheels of the wizards, this is my night to suffer!"
"Very well, you can have the gate!" Tears from fright and smoke poured from Zarrin's eyes. "You can have the northern gate and I'll take the western! Just please-"
"No." Tamlin fought to think. It had been a long night. "Escevar said never to accept the first offer. But how about-"
"All right, you can have both double-dark damned gates!" shrieked the woman. "Take them! I, Zarrin Foxmantle, hereby transfer to you, Tamlin Bloody Heartless Monster Uskevren, all taxes and duties collected at both gates! The Foxmantles divest themselves of any gates! Every gate in the city! Now get me loose or I'll skin you alive!"
"I guess that'll do." Tamlin coughed as he fiddled with the shackles. The locks were of new brass but the chains antique. Drawing his smatchet, Tamlin whacked the fetters against the wooden post. The new-fangled smatchet, weakened by its fancy blade-catching groove, immediately snapped.
"Drat the dark! No wonder Vox hates these things!" Drawing his long sword, Tamlin used both hands to whack at the chains. Finally he cut them. Zarrin leaped off the settle like a rocket and pelted for the door, chains jingling. Spitting smoke, Tamlin left his sword wedged in the post and followed.
Fire rippled and flared everywhere. No wizards warred on the stairs, for the front of the house had almost crunched flat. Zarrin and Tamlin skidded down the ruined stairs, slithered out the squashed doorway, clawed across the splintered gallery, and finally dashed to the safety of the street.
Panting, breath frosting, Tamlin wrapped his cape around the shivering Zarrin. Huddled, they gaped at the ongoing chaos.
The tilted house burned brightly. Chunks toppled into the gardens. Flaming trees shot sparks that the breeze blew throughout the neighborhood. Citizens scurried in flickering darkness, carrying buckets and lugging fire-hooks. The Hulorn's Guards worked in teams with spears to kill the last of the gnashers. Other guards fought the fire or shepherded neighbors to safety. Two hillmen lay dead and two more were trussed on their knees. Household goods, books, and clothes were strewn in the street. Proud Helara watched the blaze, a smirk on her face. Magdon and Ophelia stared in awe. Selgauntians milled, clustered, asked questions, and got in the way.
From the madness, Escevar trotted up and clapped Tamlin's shoulder. He was smudgy and bloody but grinning. "Deuce! Thank the fates you're alive! And you found Zarrin! Bravo! We won all around! Ratigan, that green wizard, ran screaming with his clothes half-turned to stone and his hair afire! And you'll never guess who showed up! Padrig the Palmer! He ran up flapping his hands because his house was burning! He rented it to the wizard! That's how he knew about Ratigan!"
"That answers a few questions." Tamlin spoke over Zarrin's blonde head. "So what did you do? "
"Oh, nothing," Escevar evaded. "What with all those flying sword blades, Padrig got whacked on the head and fell in the cellar, poor chap."
With a rush and gush, the house collapsed into its foundation. Sparks vomited into the sky. Trees sizzled like fireworks. People shouted. Escevar spotted someone and ran off with a laugh.
"I can't believe you took advantage of my misfortune." Zarrin peered from the folds of Tamlin's cape. "That was unfair, Tamlin. It was low and rotten. Holding someone's feet to the fire to drive a better bargain is vile, slimy, underhanded, deceitful and-unkind."
The girl shivered and snuggled into Tamlin's arms. "I'm just cold, so don't get any ideas. I'll admit, though, you were clever. I'd have done the same. Maybe there's hope for you, Tamlin. With all the schemes coming to a boil in this city, my family might find you useful if you care to stay with business."
"Oh, I don't know." Tamlin looked at the running burning raging chaos that engulfed the early morning street. "I find business so dull."
THE DAUGHTER
"Who are you," asked the lion faced man, above the din of the music.
"I'm not sure myself," giggled his raven-haired dance companion, "and even if I did know, why should I tell you?" With that, she threw back her head and laughed deeply as her partner spun her around the floor. The sound drew a few surprised stares from some of the nearby couples, but most merely smiled indulgently to themselves. Thazienne Uskevren was well known for her exuberance.
Tonight was one of Lliira's celebrations, and the Uskevren had opened the doors of Stormweather to some of the many revelers this evening. The main hall was filled with some of the most renowned members of Selgaunt's elite.
The partygoers wore various degrees of costumes for the event. Some sported only masques with their evening finery, while others had gone to incredible extremes to look the roles they assumed for the night. Musicians played nonstop and the aroma of richly flavored delicacies drifted throughout the hall.
"May I cut in," a man asked Thazienne's partner, as he gently pulled the pair aside.
"Now just a moment," the lion began to bluster at the tall, cloaked and hooded figure, "the song isn't yet finished."
The hooded man, however, simply passed his hand in front of the lion's face. All protest faded from his voice. Thazienne's partner immediately faced her and sweetly took his leave. At the lion's departure, the hooded man tilted his head questioningly and held out his hand in offer to Thazienne. She, however, miffed at the turn of events calmly drew out a dagger that was more than just decorative. The hooded man did not move. Something in the manner of the stranger's stance was familiar to her, and Thazienne used the point of her weapon to flick the hood back. Gray eyes, hawklike in their intensity, stared down at her. She moved the dagger under his chin. The cloaked man stood still, staring at her as the nearby dancers, too caught up in the music to notice the scene unfolding nearby, rushed past them.
"I would appreciate it greatly," he finally said "if you would kindly point your little needle somewhere else." He lowered his glance meaningfully at her dagger, which was still under his chin.
"Please forgive me," Thazienne replied in a mock apology.
With that, she flipped the dagger around so that it landed point down, on one of her gloved fingers. While balancing the dagger there, she gave a deep bow like a mummer and directed the gentleman to the dance floor. She returned her weapon to its hiding place and accepted his hand.
After a few turns, she sternly admonished the muscular, blond man. "Steorf, I told you never to play those kinds of tricks with me."
"The spell was completely unintentional and unconsciously instinctive," he replied. "I simply did not want to cause a fuss this evening. It appeared the easiest way."
The tenseness melted from her face as she smirked at him. Her deep green eyes lost their harsh glare and she giggled softly.
"To tell the truth," she admitted to him quietly, "I'm a little jealous. Even I can't get rid of men that quickly. Maybe one time you could teach me that trick," she teased.