The Black Bouquet

When she hit the ground, the impact jolted her but did no real harm. She rolled to her feet and charged the house. Given a choice, she would once again have skulked up in hopes of remaining undetected, but she felt speed was more important.

Nobody shouted or sent a quarrel or sling stone flying in her direction. She was certain Kesk routinely posted a sentry, but if she was right, if something was happening inside the house, perhaps it had already diverted the guard's attention.

The primary entrance was a pair of massive double doors. Neither their solid weight nor the intricacy of the lock would have hindered her spell of opening, but she begrudged even the moment it would take to stop and recite the incantation. She raced up the wide steps, leaped into the air, and thrust-kicked at the juncture of the panels, attacking it as if her entire body was a battering ram.

The doors bucked in the frame, and something crunched. Sefris rebounded and fell onto the porch. She scrambled to her feet and kicked a second time. The two leaves flew apart.

As she sprinted on, she heard the clamor that had been inaudible from outside. Sure enough, it was coming from upstairs. She smiled slightly to know she'd guessed correctly, and two ruffians scrambled out of a doorway up ahead. Evidently they were rushing toward the noise as well, but faltered when they spotted her.

While a tolerated guest, Sefris had taken the trouble to learn the floor plan of the mansion. Thus, she knew the bravos were blocking the shortest route to the solar, and likewise knew she needed to clear them from her path. Considering that they were still several yards away, magic might have been the safest way to go about it, but she'd already wasted a measure of her power creating the alarms her quarry had somehow bypassed, and she wanted to save the rest to address more serious threats. So she simply charged.

One Red Axe threw a dagger at her. He had a good eye, and it would have plunged into her heart if she hadn't slapped it spi

The second outlaw winced but stood his ground, a slim needle of a thrusting sword cocked back in one hand and a parrying dagger extended in the other. Maybe he fancied himself a duelist, for his stance, spine straight and knees flexed, bespoke some formal training in the fencer's science. Sefris kept on charging, one cestus-wrapped fist raised and threatening a punch. Confident that proper timing and the length of his blade would protect him, he'd almost certainly respond to her seemingly reckless advance with a stop hit.

He did. He stepped backward, and his point leaped at her breast. She dropped underneath it, smacked down on the floor, and still carried along by her momentum, slid at him feet first. She kicked at the proper moment, bone cracked, and the duelist went down with a shattered ankle.

It was unlikely he'd give her any more trouble, but Sefris saw no reason to chance it, not when it would take only a split second to finish him off. She scrambled onto his chest, crushed his windpipe with a jab of her stiffened fingers, leaped up, retrieved her chakram, and ran onward.

Nobody was on the marble staircase. Judging from the muddled racket issuing from the top, all the other Red Axes who'd remained in the house had already reached the solar. When she charged up the steps and peered into the hall, she saw that the situation was just about as inconvenient as it could be.

Along with Miri and Nicos, Aeron was at the far end of the room, up by Kesk's chair. The only way to keep him out of the Red Axes' hands and wring the location of The Black Bouquet out of him herself was to kill her way through a dozen or so gang members and the wizard in the green cloak, too.

So be it, then. At least Kesk's henchmen were all facing away from the door. That would give her a brief initial advantage. She sprang into the solar and punched, breaking a hobgoblin's spine. The tall, hairy creature needed to fall first to give her a clear toss at the small man. She'd already concluded he was no seasoned combat wizard-he was too hesitant and miserly with his magic in a fight-but he was still the most dangerous opponent in the room.

She was just about to fling a chakram when she glimpsed movement at the edge of her vision. She pivoted. Sewer Rat rushed her, clawed hands extended to rake. After the trouncing she'd already given it, the stunted, green-ski

She sidestepped out of the meazel's way, cracked its skull with an elbow strike as it blundered past, and returned her attention to the wizard. He'd spotted her and was jabbering a spell at her. Futilely. He wouldn't finish in time.

She hurled the chakram. It hit the mage in the forehead and bounced away. He bore an enchantment to shield him from missiles.

Even so, the mere fact of a blow to the face would have startled many a spellcaster into botching his conjuration. The small man, however, maintained his focus. He spoke the final word, and a ragged fan-shaped distortion, like hot air rippling over pavement on a torrid summer day, shot from the head of his cane.

Sefris tried to dodge, and nearly made it. The edge of the magic grazed her, however.

It didn't make her feel any different, and for a second imagined it hadn't affected her at all. Then she perceived that the wizard was backing away with an implausible quickness. In fact, everything-Aeron's battle with a gigantic bugbear, Miri's clash with an orc, the other Red Axes maneuvering to close with one foe or another-was scuttling and jerking around more rapidly than before.

Sefris realized that wasn't actually so. It just looked that way to her. The man with the cane hadn't sped the rest of the world up. He'd slowed her down.

Had the enemy allowed her a moment, she probably could have dissolved the enchantment with a counter-spell, but suddenly, or so it seemed to her, other Red Axes were rushing her. A dagger slashed at her eyes. From her perspective, the blade came in as fast as if one of her teachers was wielding it, and she nearly failed to duck. She riposted with a punch to the jaw, and the outlaw jerked out of the way.

She flowed into one of the combinations her instructors had drilled into her, following up with a blow to the ribs. The Red Axe didn't dodge that one. Her knuckles smashed bone. He stumbled backward and fell on his rump.

But already two more Red Axes, one human, the other a slavering, hyena-headed gnoll, were spreading out to flank her. She realized that, in her present condition, she could no longer count on simple trained reflex to snatch her out of harm's way. She had to read their stances and predict how and where each attack would come.

It looked like the gnoll would cut to the head and the human would try a low-line thrust, and when they pounced at her, it was so. She evaded both attacks and retaliated with a snap kick to the knee that crippled the goblin-kin. Unfortunately, that gave the remaining cutthroat time for a second stab, and she couldn't pivot fast enough for a clean, fully effective block. She kept the dagger out of her lung, but it pierced her forearm, grating on bone before ripping free.

It didn't hurt, not yet, and wouldn't until she allowed it to. Mere force of will, however, wouldn't stop the bleeding or the weakness it would eventually produce. She realized she was genuinely in trouble.

Aeron crouched before Tharag, and when the enormous bugbear swung its club, the rogue lunged forward, safely inside the arc of the blow, and swept his Arthyn fang in an overhand stab at the creature's stomach. The point plunged through magically thickened layers of ta