Page 235 of Sword & Shadow
A suddenthumprattled the bedroom door, stopping him in his tracks.
They turned, staring at the door in the entry hall. “What was that?” Evylin whispered.
He stepped up to her side just as the lock was disengaged.
Evylin grabbed his hand with a sharp gasp. “It isn’t morning,” she said, a tremble in her voice. “He can’t be—”
The door’s latch clicked open. Deckard reached into his core, summoning the store of magic within. The Night Relic thrummed against his chest with a ready power. Whether Blount had arrived early or Renaul had changed her mind, he would be prepared.
But when two men stepped around the corner, Deckard hesitated. Both men wore dark coats and trousers, ideal for stealth. That’s where the similarities ended. One man stood tall and lean, his pale skin and sharp features distinctly Waulden. The other was the dark-complected Ephrian from the stable.
“Well,” the Waulden man said, his gaze swiftly taking in the room, lingering on the rumpled bed. “Looks like someone had a good time.”
“They are married, Jarrad,” Highlady Freye said, stepping into view.
Evylin’s grip tightened on Deckard as he angled in front of her protectively.
“Doesn’t mean it was a bad time,” the Wauldener, Jarrad, replied.
The Wind Mage muttered something prayerful in a language Deckard had never heard. Then she tossed him a familiar bag—one of the packs they’d purchased in Norhels for their journey through Wauld.
“Ignore him,” the highlady advised as though they shouldn’t be surprised to see her. “He’s a nuisance, but I’m not allowed to get rid of him.”
Scanning the trio warily, Deckard stood his ground. “What do you want?” he demanded.
The Mage sighed. “I had hoped you knew, but I suppose Auden and Ilain didn’t have the opportunity to tell you.” Her stance relaxed in a manner Deckard assumed was supposed to set them at ease. “This is Highlord Aterian Jarrad Hoult, Terrae Mage, and that—” she gestured to the Ephrian stableman, “is Emmaas Caarney, our Warrior.”
Evylin sucked in a sharp breath behind Deckard.
“We work for the Alliance.”
Gripping the pack tighter, Deckard couldn’t quite feel the hope underneath the shock radiating through him.
In their stunned silence, Highlady Freye continued, “If Auden and Ilain had known you were coming, they would have prepared you. I’ve been stationed here in Keale as Lady Renaul’s steward for the past three years to infiltrate Blount’s network. A worthy risk, as I am now in the position to save your lives.”
“With some help,” Jarrad added.
“Isla,” the Ephrian, Emmaas, said. Surprisingly, his accent matched that of the Schonese woman. “We’re short on time.”
Still hesitant to believe the Mage, Deckard drew Evylin closer. “How do we trust you?” he asked.
“You either do, or you don’t,” Isla Freye said, then gave a pointed nod to the pack in his hands. “However, that might aid your decision.”
After a shared glance, Deckard handed Evylin the pack. She pulled out two daggers, a change of clothes for her, including boots, and a black coat for Deckard.
“It isn’t much,” Isla admitted. “But in the hands of a Warrior, it’s a start.”
Evylin gave Deckard a casual shrug as if to indicate that trusting the three purported Alliance members gave them a better chance than attempting to escape alone.
“All right,” Deckard said, taking the coat. “Go change, Evie.”
“Hurry,” Isla instructed as Evylin darted for the privacy of the bathing chamber.
Eyes briefly locking with Evylin’s before she shut the door, Deckard crossed the room to where his boots waited by the settee. “What’s the plan?” he asked.
Isla and Jarrad turned to the Warrior, Emmaas. In the firelight, his bald head glowed with a rich mahogany sheen. “First, we’ll rescue your friends,” he said, his deep voice mellow like the finest Schonese wine. “They’re on the far side of this floor. Isla will enter the hall first, pretending to be on Renaul’s orders. With her distraction, we’ll take down the guards. Are your comrades good fighters?”
Deckard’s heel sank into place in his second boot. “We’re all soldiers. Thom and Rafferty are good. Ethenn is...” He paused, then decided their success necessitated honesty. “Ethenn is a Warrior too.”
