The Brat's Final Gambit

Davin shook his head as he made his way to the Sartors’ kitchen with the sack he had taken from his two attackers slung over his shoulder. For the third time, he said, “I don’t think that would be a good idea right now, Lexa! You’ve already lost enough here as it is!”

Maerillus’s sister frowned, making her narrow face appear even more arrogant and stern. Her eyes flashed with impatience and her was voice curt. “That’s precisely why I want to send riders out to find them.”

Davin sighed. Alexandretta Sartor could be as obstinate as a mule when she had her mind set on something, and the moment he and Maerillus returned with Niam, she settled into a thorny mood because there was still no word of explanation about her brothers’ delay.

“Why am I arguing with you, anyway?” she asked in disgust.

“My perfect charm?”

“That would be Niam,” Lexa retorted.

“I would think that maybe it’s because I’ve killed a trall, fought walking corpses, and taken out two men stalking travellers on your property,” Davin said, allowing his voice to smooth out and loose some of its frustration.

Lexa noted the change in tone and sighed. “I just don’t like not knowing what is going on,” she complained. “There have been a lot of patrols, but none of the soldiers seem to know anymore than we do about who is behind this.”

Beside them, Maerillus walked silently. Davin figured it was because she was bullying someone else for a change. When he finally did speak up, it was to say, “I’m glad you two are finally playing nice.”

Lexa rounded on him with a look that could have wilted salad greens. “Shut up little brother.”

“Davin’s right, Lex. Until we have more help here, we don’t need to be sending staff out into lord only knows what.”

“And I think we know what Niam would say about who is behind all of this,” Davin murmured.

“That snake did leave us with a mess,” Lexa said angrily.

“There’s more to it than just Kreeth,” Maerillus told her, to which his older sister just threw up her hands and declared loudly, “That’s it! I’m leaving the family!” And then, more sulkily, “No one tells me anything anymore.”

Davin’s voice hardened. “You don’t want to know the half of it.”

As they neared the kitchen where Niam waited as old Casey tended to his face, Lexa pointed a stiff finger at Maerillus and poked him painfully in the chest. “I want to know what I going on. All of it. I can’t protect my family unless I know what I’m up against.”

Maerillus raised his hands and when he hesitated, Lexa jabbed him even harder. “Fine. We will all talk. AFTER this is over . . . when we have time.”

Lexa seemed somewhat mollified if not entirely satisfied. “How is Niam?” She asked quietly.

Through the open door, Niam’s tired voice responded, “His eyes hurt, but you may be interested to know his ears are fine. He has no problem hearing whatsoever.”

Davin rolled his eyes and walked in first, but first he noticed that Lexa had to use real effort to remove the worry from her face. He saw it flicker across her features. Which meant that it went from the semblance of expressionless stone to something resembling preoccupation. But Davin knew that was an unfair comparison. For a Sartor, Lexa was perhaps the most reserved member of the family. Right now, she had more than any rational human being’s share of worries.

Yet this was the second time tonight that Davin had noticed something more than passing emotion where Niam was concerned. Yet now was not the time to focus on something like that, so Davin stuck that away into the back of his mind for another day.

Still, Lexa . . . liked Niam?

Davin shook his head. That was certainly the way it might seem, but he was willing to bet good money that Niam had no clue. At the largest table in the kitchen, Niam sat still as Casey dabbed at the area around his eyes. Pink hued smears trailed down his cheeks she cleaned the caustic substance from his face.

“Is that blood?” Lexa asked quickly, pushing Davin aside and leaning down for a closer look.

“It’s from the powder Salb threw at me,” Niam said in a hoarse voice.

“Hold still, child,” Casey warned as she swabbed the most swollen areas beneath his eyelids.

“That hurts!” Niam winced. “Are you trying to take my eyes out?” Niam shrank back, but Davin wondered if it was from the pain or Lexa’s presence. He watched, somewhat amused as Niam did everything he could not to look up at Maerillus’s sister.

“If you keep squirming like that I’m liable to put one out, child,” the grandmotherly servant warned.

“How are you?” Davin asked. Niam had not been in much of a condition to talk when he and Maerillus found him sitting with the Maries as Madeline’s father consoled his hysterical daughter. The fact that he and Maerillus arrived too late to help galled him. The only thing the two of them could do was gape as Niam recounted the fight with Salb. Nearby, the killer’s body had been laid out and a blanket stretched over the corpse. Before retrieving the horse Niam had loaned out to the mother of Salb’s first victim, Davin and Maerillus walked over to examine the body.

Salb’s face still wore a surprised expression which death had not removed. As Davin checked the pockets, he discovered that one of them was full of long, ropy, and reddish tubers. He placed those in the sack containing the dangerous vial confiscated from his own set of attackers. While he did this, Maerillus pulled back Salb’s eyelids and lips, and muttered quietly, “You’re right. His eyes are—”

“Not like ours?” Niam finished painfully.

Maerillus’s answer was quick. “No . . . they’re like an animal’s . . . like a trall’s,” he said in disgust.

Davin looked over Maerillus’s shoulder as he examined Salb’s corpse. No other physical signs were evident. Now Davin’s first concern was Niam’s own eyes. When his friend looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes were so bloodshot that just looking at them made Davin wince. He would not have been surprised if Niam wept drops of blood, yet instead of crimson tears, Niam’s were clear and normal as they flooded around the his rims and cascaded down his cheeks in fat, healthy streams.

Which was a good thing, he hoped.

“Had to flush my eyes five or six times to take most of the burning away,” he said with a raspy voice.

“Today was a hard one,” Davin said.

Niam’s voice was fatalistic. “It’s about to get harder.”

Davin hesitated to push Niam, but he knew that there wasn’t much time with all that had already happened. More was afoot, and if they didn’t keep ahead of this avalanche, he knew they risked seeing more than just themselves buried by it. He reached up and took down the sack and withdrew its contents. “Found something on one of the men who attacked me, I thought maybe you should take a look.”

Niam shrugged his shoulders. “I know. I can feel the thing you’re carrying.”

“Two things, actually.” Davin unwrapped the vial and laid it on the table in front of him. Its contents glowed faintly and continued to writhe with an unsettling agitation.

Old Casey exclaimed, “Oh dear!” She took a fearful step backward, and Davin offered a quick apology. Thankfully Maerillus jumped in and asked her to get a fresh bowl of slightly salted water for Niam’s eyes. Davin gritted his teeth. I’m getting so used to this kind of thing that I just laid that vial right out in front of the old girl.

Before he could say anything, Maerillus blew out a breath, “This is crazy!”

Davin nodded. “I thought nothing of it. When we’re surrounded by this all the time—”

What is that?!” Lexa broke in. By the look on her face, there was no doubting its effect on her.

Niam pushed her away. Lexa made no argument, though her voice rose an octave as he stood up and moved between her and the vial. “Don’t do that!”

“It’s okay,” Maerillus placed a hand on her shoulder. “Niam knows what he’s doing.”

Lexa crossed her arms nervously and backed away several more steps as Maerillus inclined his head toward Niam. “You do know what you’re doing, right?”

A look of distaste came over Niam’s face. He reached out and touched the vial, closing his eyes as he did. As if choking back a gag reflex, he let out a small shudder and his voice became detached. “There’s a terrible will bound up in this. I can see it inside the glass. It looks like the flow of living letters I saw on the exploding boxes at the Vandin camp.”

“What exploding boxes!?”

Maerillus looked at Lexa and raised a finger to his lips. Everyone’s attention went to Niam. He went absolutely still as his face began to tremble slightly. Davin moved forward automatically as Niam’s shoulders appeared to bunch up in pain, but suddenly all of the tension went out of his smaller friend and Niam sat back down hard in his chair with a loud exhalation. The sense of danger that surrounded the vial lifted like steam escaping an opened pot. Niam began coughing lightly. In a high, scared voice, Lexa demanded, “What was THAT?”

“Nothing good,” Niam said tiredly.

Davin noted that his friend still avoided looking directly at Lexa. Apparently, disarming the thing’s potency hadn’t been enough to disarm Niam’s sheepishness around Maerillus’s sister.

Lexa made a frustrated tisking sound. “Don’t joke with me, Niam. Not tonight.”

Niam finally met her gaze. “That was a weapon of some sort. That’s all I know,” he said. Then, he shifted his attention to Davin and spoke before Lexa had an opportunity to say anything else, “What else do you have to show me?”

Davin opened the cloth containing the roots he had found on Salb and placed them on the table. Maerillus used a towel to cover his hands as he removed he tainted vial and stuffed it back into the bag from which it was retrieved. Niam picked several up and frowned as he examined them closely.

“They’re local,” he muttered to himself. When Maerillus asked him how he knew that, Niam rubbed the tips of his fingers around one and showed him the dirt on his fingertips.

“Oh.”

When Niam broke one in half, his frown became more pronounced. “I think I know what stained Salb’s fingertips. Take a look at this,” he said, showing them the broken end of the root, which was almost a purplish red at the broken tip.

“That looks like something used in a dye,” Maerillus said speculatively. Lexa agreed.

Niam nodded his head.

“A poison, then?” Maerillus offered.

“That makes sense,” Davin said.

Niam held the root to his nose and sniffed. “Bitter,” he muttered. When he touched the broken, fibrous end to his tongue, he grimaced. “I think I know where Salb got the pink powder he threw in my face,” Niam told them. “It burns.”

“That makes sense, too,” Davin said. The look on Niam’s face, however, told him that his friend was turning something unsettling over in his mind, and that whatever it was wasn’t sitting well with him.

Niam got up and began to pace.

Maerillus and Lexa looked at one another and asked in perfect unison, “What’s wrong?”

Niam looked up, surprised. “Do you know how uncanny that is?” With a shake, he scrunched his face up and went on hesitantly, “The stains on Salb’s fingers looked familiar . . . .” he mused. When he turned his face to Davin, he looked really bothered now.

“Well, he did throw the powder at you.”

“But I saw his fingers in the barn. They were dark. The powder was pink,” Niam grumbled.

“He used the roots to make the powder.”

“But he had to learn somewhere, didn’t he?”

“Salb’s obviously in league with the people behind this,” Maerillus said.

Niam became even more agitated. “I’m missing something and it’s right there!” he said, tapping his head. “And I know it’s important!”

“I’m sure it will come to you, eventually,” Lexa told him.

Niam made a disgusted sound. His voice became dark and troubled. “You don’t understand. I have to figure this out,” he said. “Salb almost had us tonight. Bug and I were going to die, and he . . . bragged about what he was going to do . . . and about Count Joachim and Jolan Kine not living to see the sunrise.”

“But I’m sure he was just trying to get under your skin,” Lexa told him. “The things you told us he said were abhorrent. Salb was a deranged, evil toad. Do you think maybe he was saying that to torture you, too?”

Niam shook his head emphatically. “I don’t, Lex. I know he was telling the truth. He had taken away our hope that we were going to make it out. He was trying to hurt us with the truth. He knew something we didn’t. He did, Lex. He did.”

Maerillus was the first to speak up after a long moment of silence spent watching Niam try to walk a rut into the tiled kitchen floor. “I just don’t understand how anyone plans on taking out a count with an active and mobilized force surrounding him.”

“But they aren’t are they?” Niam flashed.

Maerillus shook his head. “No. He’s brought them in closer for heavy patrols since word got to him that everything was going to hell around here. I saw that lieutenant we’ve practiced with . . . Brian, I think . . . about an hour ago.”

Niam closed his eyes tightly. “I still don’t like this. Someone showed Salb where to find these roots and how to prepare them. Jolan Kine told us that some of the most deadly poisons he’s ever seen grow grew around here. I bet this is moonflower vine,” he said, indicating the root in his hand. “Which he said can do any number of things. I’m sure burning my eyeballs was just one of them. You remember, he said that depending on the dosage, some poisons could kill—”

“Or make someone incredibly docile!” Maerillus exclaimed, and then slapped his forehead with the flat of his palm. “I do remember! Dad was like a baby when I left him. But Kine said that particular poison had to be administered over a long time.”

“I think Salb knew someone was poisoning Joachim and Kine,” Niam said.

“We need to get to Joachim’s estate,” Davin said. “If you’re right, we might be too late already.”

Before anyone had a chance to say more, the kitchen door opened and two soldiers stepped into the room wearing long, thick overcoats covering leather armor. Both of their faces were bright red from the cold night air. One of them stepped forward to address Lexa. “Begging your pardon, my lady, but we’re here for the prisoner.”

Lexa frowned. “We sent for guardsmen hours ago.”

The soldier appeared flustered. “We came as soon as we could. There’ve been several prisoners taken so far.” This grabbed everyone’s attention. Only Niam—who continued pacing—seemed unfazed.

“You mean you haven’t heard, yet?’

“Am I a mushroom being kept in the dark about everything!?” Lexa stormed. “What is going on!?”

“Pirim Village, ma’am. It’s burning.”

Davin felt the blood drain from his face.

“Great Lord have mercy,” Lexa said, stunned.

“I’m truly sorry, lady Sartor.”

Maerillus’s sister waved a dismissive hand. “Information has been hard to come by.”

Beside Davin, he heard Lexa whisper to Maerillus, “That explains why the rest of our family isn’t here.”

“What can you tell me about your prisoners?” Davin asked.

“Some were professionals, some were paid criminals.”

Davin grunted. “They were soldiers, then? Any idea where they’re from or who sent them?”

The soldier shifted uncomfortably and his voice dropped. “Someone got to the prisoners before they could be questioned by the count. They were all killed.”

“Let me guess,” Davin said. “They were poisoned.”

The guardsman’s surprise was obvious. “How did you know?”

“It seems to be going around,” Maerillus said flatly.

“We were hoping to bring the prisoner back for interrogation.”

“Where is Lord Joachim,” Davin demanded.

“The count was with his physician when I last saw him. The Hammer has taken ill,” the soldier said.

Niam suddenly stopped pacing. Everyone looked questioningly in his direction when he exclaimed, “Pokeweed! That’s it!” Niam then froze, and added, “I mean that’s not it!”

“What’s not it?” Davin asked.

“You said that it looked like Salb has been stained with a dye. Pokeweed is a dye!”

“But . . . I thought we were talking about poison?” Maerillus interrupted.

“Of course we are,” Lexa said. “Pokeweed is poisonous.”

“But not poisonous enough to be used to kill someone,” Davin said.

Niam looked as if he was about to come undone. “But don’t you remember that Kirse told us that he had gotten his hands stained by pokeweed the night he was wrapping our injuries. It wasn’t pokeweed!”

Davin looked at Maerillus, “I remember that night. It was the night he got sick and left the room.”

“Yes!” Niam declared forcefully, “But it wasn’t because I was sick. It was because Kirse had been using sorcery.”

The soldier who had been speaking cleared his throat nervously and said slowly, “While I don’t like all of this talk about sorcery, I know the Hammer’s been at these things with you three . . . and I can loose my place and be thrown out of the guard if any word of this falls on wrong ears.” He hesitated in order to give them time to consider his words before going on.

Lexa moved to stand before the man. As she came forward, Davin realized that her imperially slim figure bore the mantel of aristocratic authority, that it seemed to be imbued even in the way she held her slender shoulders and the courtly grace of her gait. This wasn’t Lexa, his best friend’s sister. This was Alexandretta Sartor, who may have been the daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants in the Kingdom, but had been born noble with all the hereditary mien of royalty.

“No one will give report of your words tonight, soldier. If they prove to be nothing, we will take them as they seem to us—the honest concerns of a loyal guardsman.”

A look of relief came over the man’s features. “My lady, none of us has had an easy feeling about the lord’s physician for quite some time. I know that’s not a lot to go on, but I don’t trust the man. He’s been acting oddly for some time.”

Davin nodded his head. “We need to find Brian. Where’s the lieutenant?”

“Ready to eat hot coals over everything going on. The lord kept him at the estate instead of sending him out.”

“Good. We need him.”

“But the prisoner,” the man said.

Lexa immediately interjected. “Has sustained injuries that must be seen to before he’s fit to go anywhere.”

“That’s right,” Maerillus said. “The person that captured him did quite a number on the fool’s forehead.”

The guardsman gave them a sly smile. “Right. I’d like to thank that person.”

“You’re welcome,” Davin said.

As they left with the two soldiers, Lexa called out, “Be careful!” When Davin looked back, he noticed that she was watching Niam as he walked through the door. When she caught his gaze, she placed a stern finger over her lips and Davin nodded his head. He wouldn’t say a word.

Besides. If Maerillus ever even suspected her interest in Niam went beyond general feed-the-poor-and-give-charity-to-the-lepers sort, he knew that his wealthy friend would have plenty to say about it.

The ride was a quick one, and aside from Maerillus’s grumbling about Niam’s stolen horse, it went by in silence. When they rode up to the estate, soldiers were busy. Soldiers coming off duty wearily made their way to the cook tents and those leaving checked their saddles and armor.

“We can find the lieutenant from here,” Davin told the men. “You should probably go eat before the food’s gone.”

The soldiers gave all of them a pat on the back and left to report to their commanding office before eating.

“I see him over there,” Davin said, and they pushed their way through a thick knot of surrounding a fire on the other side of the food tables. The officer looked up and gave them a wide smile. “I’m glad you managed to live through the craziness.”

“I’m afraid that it’s not over yet,” Davin said.

Brian’s expression became serious. “When one of you three shows up to say something like that, all kinds of bad things are about to happen. It would have to be my luck that I get all three of you on my shift.” He sighed tiredly. When Davin got closer, he saw smears of soot covering the front of his breast armor and there were small, livid burns on one of his hands. “Let’s hear it, Hapwell.”

Brian listened as Davin filled him in, and his expression became stony and tense by the time he finished. “Are you sure about this?” he asked with the voice of a man about to contemplate lethal action.

“As sure as we can be, yes.”

Brian turned toward several men holding their helms beneath their arms at the food line and bellowed out, “You there! Flick! Nabs!”

The two, weary soldiers were quick to respond. “Find the rest of your squads and get them ready to fight and move.” And then he stood up on his chair and bellowed even more loudly, “I need the entire company on standby immediately!”

Murmurs and complaints rippled though the entire tent. A stout man in mail and a flowing cape approached them, eyeing Davin and his friends with a sharp glare. “What’s the meaning of calling my company to alert, lieutenant?” The man’s emphasis on Brian’s rank led Davin to conclude that this had to be the company captain.

Brian saluted with his hand over his chest. “Apologies Captain Send. I was about to send for you. Count Joachim and the Hammer may be in danger, sir.”

The captain looked at Davin and his friends sourly. “These would be the ones who brought you this information?”

“That is correct, sir.”

Captain Send looked to be as grizzled from hard work as Joachim himself usually was. He had quick eyes and a hard, cautious stare Davin had come to associate with seasoned veterans. He spat and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “This have anything to do with that bastard?”

Davin knew exactly who “that bastard” referred to. “He’s fled, but there are more like him, sir.” Send swore as Davin told him what he had told Brian.

“And the Hammer is with Joachim, who may be with a Sorcerer,” Send mused and hit the flat of his hand with his fist. “The cat’s in the hen house this time . . . and we have no Hammer to help us.”

“You have me, sir.”

The captain regarded Niam for a moment, then said skeptically, “Kid, you look ten years too young and like something I saw a wildcat once spit out after eating a rabbit. No offense, of course.”

Niam met the man’s gaze and replied hoarsely, “I’ve followed a dead dog to an almost dead boy, survived a sorcerer’s fire traps, gotten past the sorcerer’s defenses, faced two tralls, and set a bully’s pants on fire, and no offense, sir, but I’m all you’ve got right now.”

Send said nothing for a moment. “Good to know if I need to light someone’s butt on fire.”

“I also screamed a lot at one of the tralls, sir—and called it names.”

“Good to know, Kid. You see one, feel free to tell it whatever you like.”

Brian placed a hand on Niam’s shoulder. “They may be green, but they’ve seen more than most of the men under our command. I’ve seen them in action. They’ll hold their own.”

“They’re going to have to,” Send said harshly. “I was with the company that tracked Devon Schatz all the way to the Shakta waste during the Litho campaign. Was with Joachim through all of that mess. I’ve seen what sorcerers can do.”

Davin’s ears perked up at this. He had no idea Joachim had been a part of that battle. Devon Schatz was a sorcerer—a summoner—who had taken control of a small country on the southern tip of the continent. Several western nations put together a coalition to drive the foul man out of his lair and bring him to justice. The fighting had been brutal. “We have been training hard with Jolan Kine,” he declared.

Send spat once more. “I know you’ve been working with the Hammer. That’s the only reason I’m letting you get my men back into action tonight, boy.”

Brian took Send aside, and the boys heard him telling his commander, “I have two squads assembling right now. My men are the most rested. Let us move ahead and check things out, sir. With the rest of the company standing ready, we can have this matter in hand within the hour.”

Send nodded. “Do it. I will seal off the entire estate. No one will get in or out,” he declared. “Two more squads will follow.” Send then called for his other lieutenant and began giving orders. Brian put on his helm and said, “Let’s move!”

As the squads fell in with them, Davin felt a sense of comfort knowing they weren’t going after a magic user alone. As they approached the estate, one of the servants stepped out of the count’s office door and blanched as he saw a mass of armed guards moving around the entrance with weapons drawn “What is all of this?” he croaked in surprise.

Brian addressed the man crisply, “Where is the count, Leonard?”

“He’s left, sir . . . is something wrong?”

“Where did he go, man?!” Brian snapped.

In a jittery voice, the servant stammered, “He went with Kirse to tend to Mr. Kine. What’s wrong?” he asked in alarm.

“Lock the manor down,” Brian commanded. “If you see Kirse, do not stop or talk to him. Go get Captain Send immediately, do you hear?”

The man nodded his head and darted back inside. The sound of the closing door was followed immediately by the click of the latch locking tightly on the other side. “Kirse’s private office is just on the other side of the count’s gardens,” Brian said.

“We should go in first,” Davin warned him.

Brian nodded his head. To his men, he ordered the two squads the captain sent to circle the physician’s home, and to his own two squads, he ordered them to prepare for entry once Davin or his friends gave the signal. After a tense approach, Davin stood before the front door with Niam beside him looking as if he were staring through the home rather than at it.

“I feel it here. There’s a taint to this house just like the one at Kreeth’s estate.” He shivered and kept his head slightly turned, as if afraid of inhaling something rotten. “I don’t know how Kine missed this,” he said wonderingly.

“Move out of the way,” Davin warned, pulling him aside as Brian joined them with his sword drawn. Two soldiers carrying a battering ram climbed the steps.

“Once the door is open, my men will go in and fall to the side. You go in after them, but do not let yourselves get too far ahead of them. I will not have you so far in that we cannot get to you or pull you out if things go bad.”

“Oh, they always go bad,” Niam intoned darkly.

Brian looked at him and frowned. “Then we’ll have to go badder.” With a motion of his hand, the soldiers with the ram made the frame shudder with the first blow. The second knocked the door open with a resounding crash.

As the soldiers rushed in, an awful stench wafted out of the residence. Davin forced himself in despite the gag reflex threatening to bring everything left in his empty stomach up. Several men around him coughed and choked.

Holding his sword ready, Davin brought Niam around in front of him, and they worked their way forward into an ornately furnished room. Nothing stirred within the house.

“I can feel a dark power all around me,” Niam said. “The strongest presence is coming from back there,” he told Davin, pointing further into the dwelling.

“That’s where the smell is coming from,” Brian said.

“And that’s where we have to go,” Niam said, bracing himself for what he knew was going to come next.

Davin took a lantern from one of the soldiers and moved down the hall with his friend, coldly intent on keeping his focus on the slightest movement or presence that might crop up. When they came to a closed door, Niam stopped. The stench of decay was heavy in the cold air. Brian motioned them aside as he tried the latch. The door swung open, groaning on its hinges. Holding the lantern aloft, he allowed Niam to stand at the threshold and looked at him questioningly.

“It’s thicker here,” he said, voice trembling from the strain of the forces he was feeling. “I . . . I think that what I’m feeling is old, though. An echo. An extremely strong one, but an echo.”

Brian moved into the room; the lantern threw grotesquely distorted shadows scurrying across the walls. Davin stepped into the darkness and immediately realized he was in a bedroom. A writing bureau stood against one wall, and on the opposite, a wardrobe nearly half the length of the wall sat, tall and stout, made of a dark wood that seemed to blend into the shadows. On the bed in the center of the room, sheets bulged in an easily recognizable shape. Dark stains stood out prominently against the light fabric at the head of the bulge and in its middle. The only reason there were no flies was because of the bitterly cold.

Brian nodded his head to several soldiers, and the men flung the sheet off, revealing the bloated corpse of a man. Vomit and a dried white crust encircled the cadaver’s mouth, spilling down both sides and onto the fabric below. In the lantern’s light, the bottom of the cadaver was thickly stained where the person, tied to the bed, had messed himself as he perished.

“That’s Kirse!” Niam said, placing his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stave off the worst of the stench.

“That’s impossible!” Brian hissed. “If someone were impersonating him, the Hammer should have known.”

Maerillus looked over at Niam, catching his attention. “What if something interfered with his ability to detect the use of sorcery?”

“Something slow . . . like a poison?”

Maerillus nodded his head.

Niam shrugged his shoulders. “If it was subtle enough . . . and if he never got too close to this house, sure. I don’t see why not, but we’ll have to ask Kine.”

“It has to be Kreeth,” Davin said.

Niam shook his head. “He’s part of this, but there’s still Mayor Braun running around somewhere.” Niam quickly backed out of the room and closed the door once everyone else was out. “Back there is where most of the dark power is coming from.”

“That’s where his office is located,” Brian told them.

Davin followed Niam, who moved cautiously, keeping alert for traps like the one he had almost sprung in Kreeth’s basement several months ago. Almost as if reading is mind, Niam look back and shook his head. The door to the office stood ajar, and before either of them got close enough to open it, Brian let out a growl and pulled them to a stop. He pointed a finger at them and told them to wait. He opened the door and held the lantern in the room, then glanced back at Niam. “Anything?”

Niam nodded his head. “I don’t think it’s trapped. I just feel a stronger presence in there.”

Brian directed soldiers into the room, who once again fell to the sides of the door, ready to protect Davin and his friends or pull them out at the first sign they were in danger of being harmed.

Niam led them in and stopped abruptly. In the middle of the floor, a gaping hole opened up into darkness beneath the house. “This is where the dark power is coming from,” he groaned. His eyes held a disquieting fear. “I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s bad down there . . . really bad.”