Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

at risk, and no simple child would keep her from him.
    “You can and you will, Delysia,” she said. “I must return to my husband. You must return to your brother. Isn’t that what you want? Forget what others expect of you. They don’t decide your life. That isn’t their right. I will ensure everything goes well for you, all for being a friend to me in my dark time. Help me, Delysia. Please. I’m asking you.”
    Delysia wilted under the barrage of words. She slowly nodded.
    “You promise to take care of me?” she asked.
    Madelyn smiled her sweetest smile.
    “I promise,” she said.
    “Fine. Everyone else is asleep except me. Bertram was to help me with my nightly duties, but he’s so fat he dozed off in his chair. I don’t know if the door’s locked.”
    “Only one way to know,” Madelyn said, taking Delysia’s hand. “Lead me there.”
    Haern scratched at his mask, wishing he had found something smoother to wear. When finished, he wrapped his cloak tighter about him. Other than his blond hair, he was a mess of gray lurking in the shadows. The temple was before him on the other side of the street. Haern hid beside a shop set up to take advantage of the temple’s traffic, selling a multitude of sweet cakes and treats that got devoured after every service.
    Looking at the temple, Haern wondered how the Abyss he was going to get inside. He saw no windows, just rows and rows of columns. The columns themselves were too smooth and wide for him to scale. The giant front doors were closed. They were unguarded but most likely locked and barred from the inside. The roof was sharply sloped, pointed in the middle but nearly flat at the edges, the shape created by a clever interlocking of additional tiles. A statue loomed on either side of the short white steps leading up into the temple. The left was of a noble-looking man in armor holding a set of scales. The right was of a young woman with her arms raised to the heavens as if singing in praise.
    “Never abandon as hopeless something you’ve never tried,” he whispered aloud. One of his earlier swordmasters had favored that saying. There was only one place left Haern could check, and that was the roof. So to the roof he went.
    He’d taken nothing with him but his cloak and his knife, so he did what he could. At full speed, he curved to one side and leaped into the air. He kicked off the statue of the woman, vaulting himself atop the other statue. Not letting his momentum slow, he leaped again, his whole body reaching for the edge of the roof where it was flat.
    His fingers brushed it, slipped, and then he was falling.
    The front of the temple had large inset sections depicting mountains, fields of grain, and a rising sun. Below those carvings was a second edge jutting out just before the pillars began. Haern banged his elbow against the edge, twisting him midair before he could grab hold. A sharp intake of breath was the only cry he made.
    He swung one foot up to the ledge, glad for once that he was still somewhat young and small. He had an inch and a half to stand on. More than enough with his feet turned sideways. He stood upon it, his back to the carvings, and looked down at the street. He saw no one. It seemed whatever activities might be normal for the night, they took place nowhere near the temple.
    He was about to turn and jump for the roof when he heard a loud crack from the doors below.
    “Hurry,” said a woman’s voice just above a whisper.
    “I am,” whispered back a girl. Haern’s heart leaped. He recognized that voice. Then the two walked out from underneath him, hand in hand. Haern saw the red hair and knew for certain.
    “Shit,” he said, realizing where he still was. For all his efforts to get to the roof, Delysia had come out on her own, and now there was no easy way down…
    Haern slipped back down to his fingers, took a deep breath, and then tried to fall forward instead of straight down. The higher up on the steps he landed, the better. Luck was with him, for he landed on the very top step, which gave him plenty of room to roll. His knees still ached, and there was no way for him to remain silent, but that was better than a painful tumble down the sharp edges of the steps.
    Knowing time was short, he ran down the steps, chasing after the two who had hurried north from the temple. As if fleeing, they ducked between some stores. Haern felt his heart stutter. The way the older woman had led, it seemed like she’d been dragging