The Darkwood Mask (The Inquisitives) by Jeff LaSala

Author:Jeff LaSala [LaSala, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786962808
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-03-20T00:00:00+00:00

When they passed through the curtain of shadow, the natural lights of Korth’s early hours returned. The Storm Moon hung full overhead, casting its flickering image into the dark waters of King’s Bay.

Tallis watched the inquisitive, Soneste, as she walked in front of him. She moved with the easy gait of a natural thief. What was her part in all this? He was glad to have found Haedrun again—at last, he was getting somewhere—but he couldn’t stop wondering about Soneste. Had she followed him to the Market, shadowed him all day? Did she know of the Midwife?

Answers for later.

“Brelander,” he said, deliberately adding a derisive tone to the imprecise term. When she looked back at him over her shoulder, he looked pointedly at the warforged and the hooked hammer he carried. “I would very much like my property back.”

“And I would very much like mine returned,” she answered.

“Naturally. A trade, then?”

The inquisitive looked to the warforged. “Give it to him, Aegis.”

“Mistress, are you sure?”

“Yes. Can you wield this?” She held her rapier out to the warforged, which gleamed in the moonlight. Was that the same weapon he’d tossed over the bluff’s edge just yesterday? He’d thought for sure it would have been nabbed quickly. Every Karrn knew a good blade when he saw it.

The bulky construct eyed the slender, fine-pointed blade. “I’d … rather not.”

Despite himself, Tallis nearly laughed. They made their exchange.

Soneste retained both her sword and the curious, violet-tinged dagger. The warforged seemed content without a weapon. Tallis knew the thick buckler attached to its forearm was weapon enough.

The hooked hammer came into his hands with pleasing familiarity, like an old friend. It seemed so long ago that he’d lost it, but it’d only been three days. He pulled a handkerchief from his coat and did his best to wipe the pick’s head clean of blood. Fortunately, mithral was easier to clean than most metals.

His arm still hurt from his injury—it needed to be dressed soon. He shook the thought away and looked to Haedrun. The Red Watcher was eyeing Soneste as if she expected an explanation, but Haedrun herself had much to explain.

Haedrun led them in a wide, staggered line out to the waterfront, steering clear of the White Lion patrol routes. She kept furtive watch behind them, ensuring that none followed without her observance. Only the odd sailor or vagrant marked their passing, but she seemed unconcerned with these.

They came to an empty and precarious pier whose repair had clearly not been a high priority after the war. Where the dock touched the wharf, a dilapidated warehouse with shattered windows stood, silent as a corpse. When Haedrun led them through a broken door, Tallis noticed that part of the building was still in use. Against the south wall, lumber was stacked nearly to the rafters. The walls shielded them from the wind but did nothing to neutralize the cold air.

Shadows stirred at the base of the woodpile.

Tallis pushed Soneste aside and swept the curved hook of his weapon low to the ground.

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