The Black Bouquet

"Fair enough," said the man in the green cloak. "I suppose, then, that she wears your brand?"

"She just joined," the tanarukk said. "We haven't gotten around to it."

The stranger reached into one of the pockets of his mantle, produced a copper piece, and made it vanish and reappear like a mountebank performing on a street corner. He murmured an incantation behind his scarf, and magic sighed through the air.

"Well, now," the wizard muttered.

"What?" Kesk asked.

"I'm listening to other people's thoughts. The prisoner's. Hers. Yours."

The tanarukk jerked, as did his axe, and he said, "How dare you…"

"Oh, calm down. I'm the one with a legitimate grievance, because it's all true. Dark Sister Sefris is an agent of the Dark Moon, and you and she have been plotting behind my back. The only reason I'm not more upset is that you haven't yet decided which of us you truly mean to betray. I'm afraid the time has come to choose. I can't continue our arrangement until I'm sure I can trust you."

"If I decide against you, merchant, you won't leave this house alive."

"I assumed as much. You could have killed me back in my study, and you were alone then. I'm certain you, your henchmen, and the Dark Sister working together can manage the job. But I'm still willing to press the issue to see it resolved."

"So be it," Sefris said. "Kesk, I've told you what I offer. A fortune in gems, and the guarantee of future aid from a secret society feared the world over for its power and guile."

"Show me the jewels," the tanarukk said. "Show me just one of them."

"I don't have any of them on my person," Sefris said, "but they're real enough, I assure you."

"She's lying," the wizard said. "I can see it in her mind."

Kesk snorted, a nasty, porcine sound. Slobber, brown from the sausage, dripped down his chin.

"What else would you say," the tanarukk challenged, "when you're trying to turn me against her?"

"Well," said the mage, "consider this, then. I may be a scoundrel by some people's standards, but I'm not lunatic enough to worship the Dark Goddess. She is. Which of us is likely to prove more dependable?"

"I sought power," Sefris said to Kesk, "and took it where I found it. I don't believe we're so different in that regard."

"Maybe not," the tanarukk admitted.

"You differ in at least one way," said the man with the cane. "She's an outlander. She came to Oeble for The Black Bouquet, and when she has it, she'll leave. At that point, what becomes of any promises she made you? Why should she keep them, or spare you another thought? I, on the other hand, am like you. I live in this city. I've built something here, and will bide here the rest of my days to enjoy and protect it. That means it's in my best interests to deal fairly with you. If I don't, you can always find me to retaliate."

"That makes sense," said Kesk. "But this is twice you've tried to muck around inside my head with magic. I didn't like it either time, and I do like emeralds and ghost stones."

Leering, he lifted his axe, then suddenly pivoted and struck at Sefris.

She skipped back out of range, and the weapon whizzed harmlessly passed her. Her foot snapped out and caught Kesk in the chest. Despite the squat massiveness of him, the attack slammed him staggering backward.

"Get her!" the tanarukk roared.

The Red Axes snatched out their knives and swords and rushed in.

Nicos wouldn't have imagined that anyone could survive such an onslaught, but Sefris dodged and sidestepped unpredictably. When the Red Axes veered to compensate, they stumbled into one another's way. Somehow her hands and forearms deflected sharp steel without being cut, while her punches, elbow strikes, and kicks thudded home to stun or injure one orc, bugbear, or human assailant after another. As she fought, she gradually retreated toward the row of windows. In her place, Nicos would have done the same. It was the best escape route available.

She was nearly there when the small man reached inside his mantle, produced a silver dirk, brandished it, and chanted words of power. Another knife, this one made of blue light, shimmered into existence, floating in the air before him. At first it was so vague and ghostly that Nicos could hardly make out what it was supposed to be, but it became more clearly defined, somehow more real, by the second. Nicos surmised that in another instant, when it was substantial enough, it would fly at Sefris and attack her.

The monastic simultaneously ducked the swing of a scimitar, rattled off a rhyme, and swirled her hand through a mystic pass. The floating knife blinked out of existence like a puffed-out candle flame.

She then shifted in close to the Red Axe with the scimitar, grabbed him by the sword arm, pivoted, and flung him at the row of windows. The outlaw crashed through one of the panes and plummeted out of sight

Kesk had been maneuvering frantically, trying to bull his way past his own men and get at Sefris. When she tossed the swordsman through the glass, she finally cleared a path. The tanarukk charged in and swung his axe. Nicos was sure that if the weapon co

Her expression as calm as ever, Sefris swayed backward like a reed in a breeze, and the stroke missed. She hooked Kesk's ankle with her foot and jerked his leg out from under him, staggering him for a moment. She used the time to scurry to the broken window, where a few triangular shards of glass still hung around the frame. She dived through the opening headfirst. Nicos assumed that, agile as she was, she managed a safe plunge into the river below.

For a second, the Red Axes and the wizard in green simply stared at the shattered window as if unable to believe Sefris had truly succeeded in escaping.

Kesk roared, "Useless! Useless, the lot of you!"

Spit flew from his mouth. His men quailed before his anger-or rather, most of them did. Sefris had kicked one ski

"What?" he mumbled, drooling a little. "What happened?"

"You let her get away!" Kesk replied. "Just like Aeron! Just like everybody!”

He charged. The battle-axe hurtled down and split the human's pinched, petulant-looking face from scalp to chin.

The tanarukk wrenched the weapon free, spattering blood and brains in the process.

"Find them!" the tanarukk commanded. "Aeron sar Randal and that monk-bitch, too!"

Most of the Red Axes, even those still dazed or in pain from Sefris's attacks, hastily exited the room.

"It's unfortunate the monastic escaped," said the man in green, "but the important thing is that we kept our partnership from foundering."

Kesk spun around to face him and grumbled, "You miserable… You're supposed to be a wizard, but you were just as worthless as the rest of them."

"I'm sorry about that, but I'm not a battle mage. Just a dilettante, when you get right down to it I don't have any experience fighting other spellcasters, whereas Sefris manifestly does. She dispelled my sending before I could, ah, send it. If need be, I'll do better next time. Meanwhile, we mustn't lose sight of the fact that our objective is still to lay hands on the Bouquet, not chase a Shar worshiper around town."

"I wish I'd never heard of the cursed book. Or you."

"You won't say that when it makes you the richest, most powerful outlaw in the Border Kingdoms. Sefris's gems were just a fantasy, but the joyous tomorrow you and I are going to share is quite real."

"It had better be." Short and burly as he was, the tanarukk only had to stoop a little to stick his wild-boar face close to Nicos's. "Now, old man, you're going to learn a lesson about speaking out of turn. What Sefris put you through is nothing compared to what I'm going to do."