“Friends,” said Meisha. The fire died away, leaving the Harper’s skin sweat-slicked and flush. “Well met, Kall.”
“Meisha.” Kall held out his arm, and she clasped it gratefully.
“I see you brought the whole army,” Meisha said, greeting Morgan, Garavin, and Laerin with a nod. Her eyes fell on Dantane and widened with curiosity. “This one’s new.”
“Meisha Saira, meet Syrek Dantane.” Kall waited while Dantane bowed politely to the Harper. “I wish I could say that was the extent of the party, but the Shadow Thieves will be coming behind us.”
“That’s what the bats are for,” said Meisha. “We didn’t know if you’d be able to find us. We planned an ambush.”
“We’ll need it.” Kall looked at the boy. “Is this one trustworthy?”
“Likely more so than your wizard,” the Harper answered, grinning when Dantane flushed in irritation.
For his part, Talal bristled with all the fervor of his nineteen years. “Trust me not to catch on fire, without so much as a warning,” he muttered.
“Talal saved my life when I came down here,” Meisha explained.
Kall nodded approvingly. “Then I owe him my thanks as well. Go get the others together, Talal,” he said. “Not here—we’ll gather them in the entrance tunnel. We need to know where the seal is.”
Talal took off back the way he’d come. “What are you planning?” Meisha wanted to know, but Kall shook his head.
“You’ll see. Garavin and Dantane have it worked out. Meisha,” he said, pulling her aside, “where is your master, Varan?”
Meisha’s eyes were stone. “Varan is dead.”
“Dead? But your message …”
“Oh, he still breathes,” she said harshly, “and his mind functions, on some level. But there is no heart in his eyes, no passion driving his actions, unless you consider madness a sustaining emotion.”
“How did it happen?” Kall asked, shocked. “How did the Shadow Thieves overcome him?”
“It wasn’t the Shadow Thieves. They exploited Varan’s condition to get their magic items, but they didn’t put him in his current state. I don’t know how it happened, but now all he can do is sit in a room and make deadly magic.”
Kall took it all in. “So Chadossa’s illusion, the black market in Amn …”
“The what?”
“A piece of broken magic that twisted a boy into a monster. It came from the black market.” Kall’s expression darkened.
“And they got it from Varan,” Meisha said. “As far as I can tell, some of his creations work, some are … broken, and run wild. But they’re all dangerous, as long as the Shadow Thieves have them.”
Talal’s voice broke in as the boy came barreling back into the chamber. “They’re on the move,” he said breathlessly. “Every one of ’em.” He noticed Meisha’s stricken face. “What? What’s wrong?” He frowned at Kall, as if knowing instinctively he was to blame.
“I’m fine, Talal,” Meisha said, forcing a smile as she looked at him. “Are you ready to bathe in the sunlight, Dirty Bones?”
He sniffed. “Ale is what I’m aching for. Keep your water and sunshine.”
“We’ll use Meisha’s bats as distractions,” Kall said as they filed in to the tunnel. “Can you let them out safely?” he asked, looking at the Harper with concern.
“I’ll take care of it,” Meisha said.
She retraced Kall’s steps quickly to the portal room, while the others headed for the main entrance.
Careful to avoid the bats, Meisha placed her hands against the poison-treated net and called the fire. The power, simmering dangerously close to the surface, answered immediately. There was no flame, but the ropes began to smoke where her palms touched them. She waited a moment to make sure the hemp would burn, then ran back to the opposite tunnel.
She slowed, wary, when she saw Dantane waiting for her.
“What was that spell?” he asked curiously.
“It will slow-burn the net away,” she said. “Between the fire and the poison, the bats will have worked themselves into a fine furor by the time our friends arrive.”
“You’re an elementalist,” said Dantane, “and a sorceress. Have you learned to bypass spells completely, turning your raw power into whatever form you will?”
Meisha pulled on a loose end of rope left dangling by the tunnel mouth. A third net unrolled from the shelf of rock above the opening; poison slathered these ropes too. “No,” she said. “The power would burn my organs from within if I tried.”
“How can you be certain, if you’ve never experimented?”
“Because my master knew his craft. He trained all of his apprentices the same,” she said, “before they were murdered—before my master was driven mad and sealed in a lightless prison to make toys for a man I would trade my soul to slay in the most terrible of ways.”
She turned, and Dantane took a step back, disturbed—perhaps for the first time in his life—by the kindling power in the Harper’s eyes. They shone red—raw, blistering wounds in a face ravaged by grief.
“Yes, Dantane. I am a fire elementalist,” she said. “The best Varan Ivshar ever trained. And I intend to burn down the Shadow Thieves, even if it means suffering the fate I just described.”
Behind her, bats flooded the portal room.
“How many are left?” asked Balram, when Aazen entered the house.
“Four that I know of,” said Aazen. “There may be more. My contact said that when Kall departed for the Delve, he left behind the lady of the house and a handful of servants. She should not be mistaken for a helpless chatelaine,” he added. “She is a powerful servant of Silvanus.”
But Balram didn’t appear to be listening. “So Kall Morel has come full circle, back to the kingdom where he almost lost his life.” He looked at Aazen. “Now you see what comes from leaving tasks unfinished,” he said, as if Aazen were a boy sitting for a lesson. “The thorn has grown into a dagger, pressing at our throats.”
“Forgive me, Father,” Aazen offered, but there was no passion in the words.
“The past is done,” said Balram. “We will deal with what remains of Morels house and then we will never have to think of him again. Take men down to the Delve,” he instructed. “Kill them all.” He gripped Aazen’s arm when he would have walked away. “I mean all, Aazen. The Delve is due for a thorough scouring.”
“What about Varan?” Aazen asked. “Without his caretakers, he will eventually starve himself, or die of sickness, if his magic fails.”
“After you’ve killed Kall, bring the wizard to the surface,” said Balram. “The portal is no longer secure. We will continue the operation above.”
“You can’t be serious,” Aazen said. “Varan will not allow us to take him from the Delve. His magic is there. Whatever his diseased mind is planning, is there. He needs to stay in the Delve.”
“Use the Harper,” said Balram. “You said she knew him. Use her to get him to cooperate.”
“He is mad,” Aazen said clearly, trying to make his father see reason, “and the Harper is dead.”
Balram’s lip curled in a mocking sneer. “You don’t believe that any more than I do. They must have switched bodies on us. Why else would Morel be seeking the portal, unless he had been somehow warned of our connection to the Delve? The Harper bitch is alive. The tunnel rats are hiding her, and now they’ll pay the price for their betrayal. After you’ve secured the wizard, kill her and seal the portal. We have no more use for the Delve.”
Aazen didn’t know what to say. “Is this my death sentence, then?” he asked bluntly. “For betraying you as a boy and allowing Kall to come back to torment us? For that you’re sending me into the Hells, hoping I won’t return?”
Balram seemed genuinely taken aback, which gave Aazen a strange bit of comfort. “Never, my son,” he replied. “I send you because you are the only one I can trust to see this done.” He put both hands on Aazen’s shoulders, as he’d so often done when Aazen was a child. The gesture had always come across as equal parts comfort and threat. “With the Shadow Thieves at our backs, we need never worry about failure, about weakness, ever again. They are our family now.”