The Rage by Richard Lee Byers

Author:Richard Lee Byers
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780786956951
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2010-04-21T04:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

14 Ches, the Year of Rogue Dragons

Taegan lifted his pewter goblet of brandy, guzzled it down, and waved for another. He wondered vaguely if had he not met Dorn, Kara, and the others, he might have spent the night actually doing what he was pretending to do: drowning his misery at the destruction of his school.

Not that there was anything fraudulent about his intoxication. He'd always enjoyed alcohol as he did all the other luxuries of the civilized human world, but not nearly enough to parade himself before Lyrabar as anything other than a gentleman with impeccable self-control, thus he almost never overindulged. At first his muddled thoughts and loss of coordination dismayed him, and he began to forget he was even impaired. He found himself craving more and more liquor, even though he was already about as drunk as a person could get and had to struggle to limit his further consumption at least a little. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to walk out of the filthy little tavern when the time came.

Finally Pavel pushed through the door. With his hood pulled up to shadow his features and his sun amulet tucked inside his clothing, he was, in a predominantly human city, the most nondescript of the hunters. Accordingly, he was the best suited to approach Taegan without arousing suspicion. He didn't even glance at the avariel, let alone speak, but it wasn't necessary. Simply by making his appearance, he'd given the signal that the cultists had gathered outside to waylay their intended victim.

The dastards thought they were so clever. It was comical, and Taegan had to stifle a laugh. He rose, the room tilted, and he clutched at the edge of his rickety table until it steadied itself. He tossed some coins down to clink among the empty cups, and some of them rolled off clattering onto the floor. He had a murky sense he was leaving too much coin, but it was easier than counting it. Besides, he was supposed to look drunk and heedless, wasn't he?

It was still work to keep his balance. He took two careful steps, then remembered the Tome of the Dragon. The wretched book had sat in front of him all evening in plain view of anyone who passed by, a lure to snag a cultist's attention. Presumably it had already accomplished its purpose, and Pavel, Kara, and Brimstone all agreed it had no light to shed on their current problems. Still, Taegan supposed he might as well take it with him. He returned to the table, tucked the purple -bound volume under his arm, and stumbled onward. The murmur of his fellow topers and the melancholy music of the longhorn, yarting, and hand drum trio followed him out into the dark.

The weather had grown cold again, frigid enough for the chill to bite even through his numbness. It couldn't clear his head, though. He supposed that was bad. Or would be, if he didn't have friends watching over him. In theory, they'd protect him from would-be assassins no matter how incapacitated he was.

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