Casket of Souls

safe.”
    She held the knife out in front of her and hissed, “Safe? I never want to see you again! If you ever come near my children, I’ll tell them exactly what their papa does, and I’ll put this knife through your black heart! Get whatever you need and get out!”
    Her voice was rising dangerously again. He dressed and packed quickly and buckled on his sword. Then, heart breaking, he turned to her one last time, but the hatred in her eyes sealed his throat.
    She pointed to the door. “Don’t come back. If he kills us, our blood is on your hands.”
    He knew it was the truth. Shouldering his pack, he went back to Atre.
    As he always did.

 
    A LEC almost missed the shadowy figure slipping around the corner of the house. It wasn’t tall enough to be Brader. He smiled a thin hunter’s smile. Atre; even better.
    As the man ghosted silently away to the backstreet behind the house, Alec could easily have put an arrow in his back, but they needed him alive to lead them to Illia’s soul. There was no time to go for the others or his horse, so he had to chance an owl’s hoot. The figure was nearly out of sight when Seregil and Micum appeared silently beside him.
    “He’s alone,” Alec told them as they set out after Atre.
    “I wouldn’t wager on it,” Seregil murmured, looking around.
    It wasn’t easy tracking. The faint glow of the false dawn and the echoing empty streets made it difficult to stay close enough to keep him in sight. After a few blocks, Atre began to disappear between houses, walking through yards and jumping over low walls.
    “He’s not going toward Basket Street,” Seregil muttered.
    “Could be taking the long way,” said Micum, grunting as he heaved himself over a wall. He was a fit man, but even Sebrahn hadn’t been able to completely heal the scars left on the back of his thigh by the
dyrmagnos
.
    Seregil glanced up at the sky. “It will be light soon. Why would he chance moving around in daylight? Something’s wrong. Change of plan. Catch him.”
    With that, he took off at a dead run, vaulting the next wall with ease.
    “Go on, I’ll track you and catch up,” said Micum.
    Alec nodded and went after Seregil.
    Abandoning stealth, they soon startled their prey into full flight and gave chase. Atre was fast, but Seregil was faster, and managed to tackle him as he ran through a kitchen garden. The two of them tumbled together across rows of garlic and turnips, Atre struggling like a wildcat. His hood fell back in the scuffle and Alec saw that Seregil had captured Teibo, not Atre.
    “Bilairy’s Balls, I knew it!” Seregil snarled, grabbing the boy by the front of his tunic. “Where is Atre?”
    “I don’t know!” Teibo cried, throwing up his arm as if he expected Seregil to hit him. “I don’t know what they’re up to, but when Brader said ‘run,’ I ran!”
    “Is Atre alone, or is Brader with him?”
    “I don’t know, my lord! They were both at the house when I left.”
    Seregil released him and stood up. “Should have known he’d use a jilt. Come on!”
    Doubling back the way they’d come, they soon found Micum.
    “What now?” he panted.
    “No sense being subtle. We’ve already been tossed.”
    The first hint of true dawn threw the eastern half of the city into black relief against the sky as they pelted south toward Basket Street.
    They were within half a mile of it, running along narrow Goose Lane, when a dark form stepped into the middle of the lane just ahead of them, long sword drawn, effectively blocking their way. There was no mistaking his stance; Brader was ready and perhaps even able to take on the three of them.
    “We don’t have time for this!” Micum growled.
    “Seregil, go!” Alec said, falling back.
    Micum drew his sword and charged Brader head-on while Seregil dodged right along the wall and kept going. Behind him the sound of steel on steel rang out.
* * *
    “Luck in the shadows, and hurry!” Alec whispered, watching Seregil hurtle through the early-morning crowd.
    There were too many people in the street for Alec to risk his bow. Instead he and Micum drew their swords and rushed Brader together, expecting a quick victory, two against one, but the man surprised them both. He had youth on Micum and height on Alec, but it was more than that: he had Seregil’s skill and speed.
    People screamed and scattered as they fought. Maneuvering was difficult, making it virtually impossible to flank Brader. Instead they pushed each other back