The masked witches

Falconer hesitated before saying, All right. I see your point. Rest assured, it s not the only stronghold my army has occupied. But I m based in the Fortress of the Half-Demon.

And the warriors of the Griffon Lodge were sneaking north. Dai Shan had their destination, although how they knew to go there and the current whereabouts of Aoth Fezim and Jhesrhi Coldcreek remained unclear.

He considered telling Falconer to expect callers. But he quickly decided against it for two reasons.

The first was that he d already done the undead marauders one service tonight. It would be wasteful to perform another so quickly. Doling them out in a measured fashion was the way to keep Falconer from feeling beholden to him.

The other was that he might decide he actually wanted the Griffon Lodge to take the fortress by surprise. In the multilayered game of Stones he was playing, there was no reason to close any line of development prematurely.

After a moment or two, Falconer spoke again and roused the Shou from his contemplation. Does that satisfy you? he asked.

For now, brave champion, it does indeed, said Dai Shan. And I thank you for the honor of your confidence.

Then let s get back to my question. Whom do we kill next?

I ll have to explore the possibilities. Most of your enemies are less gullible than Folcoerr Dulsaer.

Well, then, while you re exploring, maybe you can do something else for us.

Falconer then proceeded to explain, and Dai Shan found himself intrigued. Because, despite his own expertise in the mystic arts, he didn t understand what the point of such an operation would be.

And unfortunately, his trader s instincts told him it would be futile to ask for explanations. For the time being, he d extracted everything from Falconer that he was going to get.

EIGHT

If anyone were to catch Dai Shan exploring the cellars under the Iron Lord s citadel, the results could be unfortunate. But the Shou soon decided detection was so unlikely that he didn t even bother exerting his mystical abilities to hide from prying eyes. He simply prowled along like a mundane, but exceedingly accomplished, sneak thief.

Some of the cold, echoing vaults were storerooms, and others, merely empty. Noting the lack of dungeons, Dai Shan wondered what Mangan Uruk did with captured outlaws and other prisoners who fell into his hands. Maybe, like the barbarian he was, Mandan slaughtered them on the spot, without even considering the potential advantages of keeping them alive.

If so, then Dai Shan definitely wanted to avoid discovery. He wanted to find what Falconer claimed was here for the finding and return to his quarters and his bed before anybody missed him.

Before long, he left kegs, crates, sacks, and the dim, wavering glow of the occasional oil lamp behind. In order to investigate the chambers beyond the uttermost reach of the light, he would require one of his arcane talents, the ability to see in darkness.

The chambers appeared, despite what Falconer had said, to be empty of anything but dust and spider webs. Dai Shan felt a twinge of impatience. He took a breath and exhaled it. He reminded himself to search calmly and methodically, and, whatever he discovered, to devise a way to turn it to his advantage.

Yet, when at last he came to something promising, he nearly passed it by. Someone had done a good job of sealing the archway with blocks of sandstone to match the ones that made up the surrounding wall. Still, there was a subtle variation in the color and an interruption in the regular spacing of the mortared cracks.

Dai Shan placed his hands against the obstruction and gave it an experimental shove. It felt quite solid, which was unfortunate. He had the tools, mundane and otherwise, to open almost any door, but passing through a wall was more challenging.

Although such a feat was possible, of course. He opened one of the concealed pouches contained in his belt, took out a bit of glowing quartz, and set it on the floor. To exploit his power over shadows, he first needed to create one, namely, his own.

The light from the quartz splashed his shadow across the floor and up the wall. He focused his will and said, Wake. The shadow sprang away from where it lay.

As it did so, Dai Shan felt a jab of pain behind his solar plexus. Evidently, he d been overexerting that particular talent. But it wasn t easy keeping tabs on everyone and everything of potential interest in Rashemen all by himself.

And at any rate, all was well. His heart was still beating, and he hadn t reduced himself to one of the mad, maimed wretches called the Shadowless. Go through, he said. You know what I m looking for.

The shadow ran its hands over the stonework, plugging the arch. Its fingers occasionally seemed to snag on the blocks and mortared cracks, stretch, and then snap back to a more normal length when they pulled free.

Dai Shan knew that the entity was seeking some tiny hole or fissure that extended all the way through. Writhing through a gap would make the barrier easier to penetrate.

It didn t find one, but fortunately for an agent that lacked physicality in the truest sense, an opening was merely a convenience, not a necessity. The shadow drew back a pace, then lunged at the obstruction.

Dai Shan felt a stu

Dai Shan examined his face by touch. Despite the throbbing, his nose was not broken, nor did he find any scrapes or cuts. The impact had only occurred in his mind. He d suspected as much, but it made sense to be sure.

Dai Shan could only think of one other way to get through the barrier, and it required a certain amount of risk. Was his particular ploy truly that important? Couldn t he simply tell Falconer that he d been unable to access the proper part of the cellars? By the Black Moon, it would even be the truth.

And perhaps everything would work out thereafter. But once Dai Shan set his mind to a task, he preferred to accomplish it, in part because of a conviction that success bred further success, and failure, only failure. And the thought of failing in Rashemen and returning home without the griffons, of his father s gibes and sneers, of being consigned to trivial matters while his brothers swaggered like princes and steered the destiny of the House, was insupportable.

When the affair is over, he thought, I ll keep the blue-eyed griffon for myself. That will be my reward for daring what I m about to do.

He took another look at the hidden arch. It was fairly wide. He estimated that four smallish men like himself could stand shoulder to shoulder in front of it.

He turned to the shadow he was again casting. Wake, he said.

The pain in his chest lasted longer, as if some tormentor were taking his time sliding in a knife. But he endured it, and the shadow leaped up.

As soon as it did, another lay in its place, as was the way of shadows. Dai Shan animated that one, too, and had to grit his teeth to hold in a cry. Regrettably, he couldn t do anything to restrain the tears that ran down his cheeks.

Blinking, he regarded the two living shadows awaiting his command. A voice inside his head whispered that surely two were enough.

But that was the voice of fear, and a Shou gentleman couldn t heed it. Dai Shan had decided that three minions would maximize his chances of success, and three it would be. Wake, he said.

He d expected the final act of creation to be the most agonizing of all, and probably it was. But when he woke sprawled on the floor, he couldn t truly remember it, or passing out, either, although he felt like a gong shivering its way to silence a moment after the beater s stroke.