A Dance of Chaos: Book 6 of Shadowdance (30 page)

For ten minutes Nathaniel watched, each one a shivering torment of rattling and breaking. When it ended, a bridge of the dead spanned the chasm, and with a triumphant bellow the army began its march across, three abreast. If the soldiers were afraid of the drop, they showed no sign of it, so great was their blood lust. The prophet remained behind, watching the others pass, and Nathaniel was grateful. He feared to be in that man’s presence, even in spiritual form.

As the army crossed, Nathaniel felt his vision beginning to break. Colors dimmed, as if a thin cloud floated in the way of the sun, and the sound of the army dulled. Nathaniel looked about as it seemed his world crumbled, and in the distance he saw the strangest sight: a winged horse, flying in circles high above the ravine, with a rider clad in green and brown. Nathaniel stared, and he’d have furrowed his brow if he could. The vision collapsed further, turning to gray and black. All sounds ceased, all physical sensations ended, as if a blindfold were over his eyes and mud pushed into his ears.

And then he opened his eyes, and saw he lay on his back in his bed, his room pitch-black but for the faintest moonlight seeping in below the curtain. His lungs burned, and he felt a desperate need to breathe, but he dared not make a noise. The presence remained, powerful, humbling.

The time approaches
, Karak whispered into his ear.
An end to chaos and the beginning of a new age of order. Play your part, Nathaniel. Keep the gems of the chrysarium close. When my might roars free, the sinful of this city will learn to fear the name they have mocked and despised since before I was ever imprisoned
.

Like moisture evaporating beneath a hot sun, so did Karak’s presence dissipate, seemingly thinning instead of leaving at once. Upon its absence, Nathaniel finally gasped in air, and he felt his heart pound in his chest as if he’d run a hundred miles. Filled with a sudden need, he reached underneath his pillow and grabbed the nine gems of the chrysarium he’d hidden there. They were like ice to his touch. When he pulled them out and held them, each shimmered with color. Relief flooded through his body as their glow settled across his skin.

“Keep me safe,” Nathaniel prayed as tears ran down the sides of his face. “I’ll do it, just keep me safe, and Mother, and everyone else … keep us safe, and help me sleep.”

Eyes closed, he let the gems give him comfort, and when he dreamed, he was amid the marching legion, eyes to the rainbow sky, free from worldly struggles. A wonderful dream. A dream he never wanted to end.

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Z
usa awoke to find herself chained to a wall and bathed in light. Seven torches burned in a semicircle, each one equidistant from her. Her wrists were bound behind her with metal shackles, the short chain attached to them hooked to something on the wall she could not see. Blinking at the brightness, Zusa fought through a momentary spell of dizziness. She had to regain her surroundings. She had to recover before …

“Welcome back to the waking world, Katherine.”

Muzien’s voice rolled over her like a wave, killing what little hope she’d had of escape. He knew of her ability to manipulate shadows, had seen her use it to execute the former members of the Spider Guild. There was too much light, the manacles on her wrists were too tight and too low, forcing her to a crouch. The master of the Sun Guild stood beneath one of the torches, which was suspended from the wall of the small room by a metal hook. His arms were crossed over his chest, and though his pose was relaxed as he leaned against the wall, there was nothing calm or controlled about the awful hatred in his eyes.

“Or should I call you Zusa?” he continued when she refused to acknowledge him. “I thought I’d rescued whoever you were before the religious dogma and abuse changed you, but apparently I was wrong. You’re still a slave, though the god you serve appears to have changed. You bow before the Gemcrofts now, don’t you?”

Zusa refused to give him anything. It hardly seemed to surprise him.

“I’ve dug into your past,” he said, coming closer and kneeling down so he could stare at her level. “Not hard after knowing of your connection to the Gemcrofts. You see, there’s these … whispers about Alyssa I never quite understood. A wrapped woman who helped seal her ascension by killing Yoren and Theo Kull, a lurking specter who watched after her, guarded her. I thought them merely stories or rumors, ways to make her mercenaries seem more special than they were. But you … you’ve been the one at her side, haven’t you? Her loyal shadow, her little lapdog?”

She kept her mouth shut, but her glare was answer enough. Muzien let out a sigh, and he rose back to a stand.

“So disappointing,” he said, beginning to pace, hands deep in the pockets of his coat. “Twice I’ve had you imprisoned before me, but I fear this second meeting will not go as well as the first. You had such
potential
, Zusa. The way you kill, it is such savage beauty to behold, yet to turn on me in my hour of need, as if a mere mask and hood would prevent me from recognizing your masterful grace … it’s as baffling as it is insulting.”

His darkened hand touched her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“I hold no doubt you’ve cast aside your faith in Karak; you never lied to me on that. But for you to be in Alyssa’s pay doesn’t feel right. You can’t have betrayed me just for coin. I could give you more with far less risk, and you’re a wise enough woman to know that. Power? I am true power, while Alyssa is a fading light. So what answer is left, Zusa? Come, surely you are willing to save yourself the pain and torture I would inflict upon you to have my answer. What is it that Alyssa offered you?”

Zusa pulled away from his touch, closed her eyes, and did her best to ignore his words, his presence. Crouching her body in tighter, she leaned against the wall, pretended to be far, far away. She’d been taught how to endure torture in her training as a faceless. Muzien would be better at it than most, and he certainly could break her in time. Her only hope was that time was something Muzien did not have. Cheek pressed against the rough wood, she thought of her visit to Angelport, her youth with the other faceless; anything other than Alyssa, and the answer to Muzien’s question.

A sharp blade pressed against her throat, then a hand grabbed her hair to yank her gaze back to him.

“I am not one you should ever ignore,” he told her, eyes so close she could almost feel the anger and disgust rolling off him. “You’ve betrayed me, Zusa, and you have no idea how terrible a choice that was.”

“You think I’m afraid to die?” she asked him as the blade pressed tighter against her flesh. “Do it. Cut open my throat.”

His lips pressed against her ear.

“No.”

He let her go, put away his blade.

“I want my answers,” he said. “And I will get them, one way or another … though I feel I already have one of them. You aren’t afraid of dying; that much is obvious. You didn’t betray me for coin, nor for power. So that leaves two possible solutions as to why you would remain so loyal to Alyssa, even now refusing to turn against her when facing torture and death. Either you feel you are in her debt … or you love her.”

Zusa tried to remain perfectly still, to let the comment wash over her as if it meant nothing at all, but the wounds were too fresh. Alyssa’s words hammered in her head. Muzien watched her like a hawk, searching for the slightest bit of information, and it seemed something in her reaction caught his notice. His eyes narrowed, and he halted his pacing.

“It’d be a powerful debt indeed to have earned so many years of loyal service,” he said. “But love … I wonder, Zusa, is love what keeps your lips sealed? Not surprising, really, given how love’s irrationality answers so many of my questions. I’m curious … does Alyssa love you back?”

Out came his dagger, and before she could react he’d already cut off a lock of her hair. Seeing her hair held in his blackened fingers unnerved her to no end.

“Love and loyalty,” he said. “We’ll discover just how deep each goes when Alyssa discovers you’re my prisoner. Will she ransom for your life, Zusa? Offer an exchange? Send out soldiers? Or will she leave you here to die alone and unworthy of the risk…?”

“You damn fool,” she said. “The city isn’t yours, Muzien. It isn’t now, and it never will be. Thren, the Watcher … they’ll kill you. It’s only a matter of time, and when it happens, I can’t wait to watch every single thing you think you’ve built come crumbling down.”

At last it seemed she’d struck a nerve. His darkened hand grabbed her by the neck, squeezing hard enough to choke. His flesh … it was so hot, so cracked, it seemed a demon of the Abyss held her, not an elf.

“This city,” he hissed into her ear, “this overcrowded pit of humans, is mine. The only fools here are those who would resist the inevitable.”

He let her go, and she gasped in air despite the horrible ache in her throat. Muzien put his back to her, just for a moment, and when he turned around he was his calm, cool self again. If anything, he looked to be in a better mood.

“You’ve given away your loyalty at last,” he said, smiling at her. “You love Alyssa, don’t you? It’s almost … adorable, really. Like seeing a lovesick puppy licking at her master’s boot. You never thought she loved you back, did you? I hope not. That would only make your betrayal of me all the more pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” Zusa spit. “Just kill me so I don’t have to listen to this nonsense.”

Muzien smiled, and he waved the cut piece of hair before her.

“If I thought you beyond saving, I would, but you’re not. You are a complicated thing, which means the complications must be removed so you might reach your true pinnacle. Alyssa, and your love of her, is one of these complications. So that means we need to discover just how much Alyssa loves you, and how dedicated she is to your release. Once I have my answer, I’ll capture her just like I captured you. I’ll bring you two together, and then I’ll make you watch as I cut into her. I’ll make you watch as she bleeds, and screams, and begs for death. And when I’ve wrung every drop of enjoyment from her suffering, I’ll hand you the blade. Then, when the only mercy you can offer her is a swift execution, we shall see just how much you truly love her. There is still hope for you, Zusa. There is still a future where you wield your skill and power in service of a worthy master. But it won’t be with a divided heart.”

He brushed her face with his blackened hand, the heat of it sending a wave of repulsion traveling down her spine.

“A worthy master,” he whispered. “All your life you’ve sought to serve, first Karak, then his priests, and now Alyssa Gemcroft. It’s all you know, isn’t it? You’re a woman of loyalty, of devotion … but you’ve been casting diamonds before the feet of beggars. It isn’t too late to open your eyes. A worthy master, Zusa. That’s all you’ve ever lacked, but one is before you now.”

“Never,” she said. “Kill me, torture me, do whatever sick act you can conceive. I will never serve you.”

He smiled that dangerous smile of his.

“My dear Zusa,” he said, “never is such a very long time. Thren will soon make another move against me, and when he does, I will kill him, and the Watcher as well. When those two die, and Alyssa’s body rots on the floor beside you, there will be no one left to resist me. The city will be mine, and once that happens, I will have all the time in the world to teach you the meaning of loyalty.”

He slapped her across the face, gently, almost playfully, and then strode toward the door on the far side of the room.

“You swore your life to me,” he called out over his shoulder. “Never forget it, because I assure you, I never will.”

The door opened and slammed shut, and then Zusa was alone with the bright light of the torches and the burning terror of her thoughts, both equally cruel, both unwilling to let her escape.

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