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dutiful attention to their master's welfare. Tibor, tall and lanky with close-shaven brown hair and clear brown eyes, was skilled with the hook-tipped saber, and now waited while Toret worked the latch. Sestmir had gone with Chane to the next window down the inn's alley side. "Don't forget about the dog," Toret whispered to Tibor. "It's fierce and unnatural. And its bite burns like fire and leaves scars." The window latch gave and he paused, listening for any sound inside the room.Nothing. "Let me enter first, master," Tibor whispered. "No," Toret answered. "Whichever one is in here will die quickly in bed. But if a fight breaks, you watch for any chance to kill from behind. Do you understand?" "Yes." Toret swung the window open and slipped down lower along the wall. He pivoted his grip on the sill and let his feet settle quietly on the ledge. Slipping his long sword out, he stepped down into the room. The bed's blankets were wrinkled but flat. The bed was empty. From his right, he caught a glint in the dark arcing toward his head. Toret lifted his long sword and felt the resounding clang of steel against steel as a foot slammed into his side and propelled him across the small room. He hit the wall near the door and pushed off, swinging the sword back to force his opponent away. Legs slightly bent, sword straight out, Toret faced his skulking attacker. Out of the corner came a slender man wielding a strange blade along one arm, naked to the waist. His skin was golden brown, and white-blond hair hung to his shoulders. Toret hesitated as recognition flowed into his mind. "Elf," he whispered. The half-blood's eyes widened. His jaw dropped ever so slightly in disbelief. Page 165 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "You?" he hissed. Tibor dropped in through the window, saber in hand. "Magiere!" the half-blood shouted. "Get up!" And Toret charged. Chane saw Toret slip through the window and knew he had to move quickly. He hoped the half-elf would be waiting inside the room he would now enter. As much as Toret feared the half-blood, Chane preferred to have his master battling the dhampir. Chane wasn't remotely afraid. He could handle almost any kind of fight, but he felt potential freedom lingering close. The dhampir had a better chance of finishing Toret. "Stay here unless I call for you," he said to Sestmir. The mindless minion nodded. Although pleased that the creation of these new slaves had weakened Toret, Chane found them almost as annoying as Sapphire. It was sickening the way they groveled so before their maker. He dropped through the window and landed without a sound. A low, rumbling growl filled the room. Chane turned to lock gazes with an enormous blue-gray hound glaring at him with crystalline eyes. Its coat almost shimmered in the dark room. The bedcovers shifted, someone turning beneath them. All Chane could see was dark hair around a pale woman's face as she groaned in annoyance. "Chap& ?" The dog leaped, wailing, and struck Chane hard at the waist. Its teeth sank through his cloak into his sword arm. Shock and pain hit him as his forearm began to burn as if ignited from the inside. A loud thud came through the wall from the next room, and a voice shouted, "Magiere, get up!" Blankets flew off the bed into the air. From behind the flurry of cloth, the woman scrambled for the near corner of the room. This was happening too fast. Chane punched the dog in the head, and it tumbled away and rolled back to its feet. Its snarling and wailing pounded in Chane's ears. The black-haired woman stood near the door, an unsheathed falchion in her hand. Dressed only in a loose shirt, she had pale skin like one ofhis own kind. A light below her throat pulled his gaze to a small stone on a chain that glowed brightly, casting her features in yellow tones. He had not expected her to be lovely. Thumping footfalls and scraping metal sounded from the next room, and the dog's attention shifted. It looked quickly at the woman. Without taking her eyes from Chane, she flipped the door's latch and flung it open, and the dog raced out. Page 166 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Saliva filled Chane's mouth, and he willed himself into tight control. If she was the dhampir, then Toret now faced the half-blood. Chane needed to make this look like a true fight, without killing her or allowing her to kill him. No small feat. She was poised, blade at guard, waiting and watching. Grunts and cries and the dog's wail sounded from the other room, and then another loud thud, but the dhampir remained fixed upon him. "Come for me," he said, throwing his torn cloak off. She took in the sight of him, and her gaze settled on his leather gloves. Chane felt unsettling confusion as her dark brown irises flooded to pitch black. She hissed at him, her mouth lined with elongated canines among sharp-edged teeth. Cold wrath coiled inside Leesil.Ratboy? How was that possible? He'd seen the little undead vanish into Miiska's woods with a wooden branch through his chest. Now he was somehow in Bela? The sly little creature looked different, well dressed and groomed, and brandishing a crafted long sword fit to his size. But it was indeed Ratboy, and he wasn't alone. Leesil wanted to rush the door and get to Magiere, but Ratboy stood in the way, and an armed sailor dropped through the window. No doubt some undead was slipping into Magiere's room as well. If two faced him, how many had come for Magiere? Ratboy hesitated, and Leesil feinted with his blade at the sailor, keeping him at bay. He was about to call out to Magiere again, when the door slammed inward as the jamb splintered. The snarling mass of Chap charged past Ratboy and into the sailor. Leesil quick-stepped toward Ratboy.He slammed the arm blade down hard against [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |