Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

him.”
    “Please,” Alyssa said, falling to her knees. “Let me rest a moment.”
    “Rest on the other side,” Zusa said. “He may be here at any moment. Life or death, girl. Choose.”
    She staggered to her feet and grabbed Zusa’s shoulder.
    “Life,” she said.
    The water came up to their necks, and it was shockingly cold. Alyssa’s lips turned blue, and her teeth chattered. Zusa tugged her along, although Alyssa could no longer feel her hand clutching her wrist. She dreaded the coming feel of open air, but a dim part of her was certain it’d still be warmer than the water.
    “Fire will bring him to us,” Zusa said, even her gravelly voice chattering a bit. “But we have no choice. I can fight the paladin. I cannot fight the frost.”
    A minute later they emerged on the other side. Alyssa took a few steps before crumpling to her knees, doubling over with her arms crossed before her chest. She tried to speak, but her shivering was so severe she could not make the words.
    Zusa knelt in front of Alyssa. Shadows curled off her body, moving sluggishly as if they too were affected by the cold. Zusa’s hands touched the grass, her fingers digging into the earth.
    “
Nuruta
,” Zusa hissed. Purple fire erupted between them. It burned bright, then faded to the size of a man’s head.
    “Stay close to it,” Zusa said. “The warmth is weak, but it will keep you alive.”
    Zusa looked back to the river. Alyssa followed her gaze. She saw nothing in the dim starlight, but evidently the faceless woman’s eyes saw far better in the darkness.
    “The paladin approaches,” she said. “Half a mile away, perhaps farther. We have time for warmth.”
    The two huddled before the fire, feeling its heat fight away the wetness of their clothes.
    “Karak has abandoned me,” Zusa said as the fire popped. “My soul is already doomed to the Abyss. What does one more broken law matter?”
    Alyssa watched as she peeled away the wet wrappings from her head. Her eyes were a sparkling green, her lips pale and supple. Her cheeks were smooth and round, as if Zusa had been carved from stone in the image of a goddess. Short black hair stuck to the sides of her face, but she pulled it back into a ponytail and tied it with one of her wrappings.
    “If Karak would hide such beauty from the world, then he is a foolish, jealous god,” Alyssa said. She looked to the river. “Can you kill his paladin?”
    “We shall see,” Zusa said. She glanced down at her wrappings, which were still soaked from the river. With a shrug she removed them and cast them beside the fire, along with her wet shift. Looking like a naked nymph of the forest, Zusa kissed her dagger and then approached the water’s edge. Alyssa thought to do the same, then decided she would wait. If Zusa died, then her fate was sealed as well. She would not die naked.
    “You are determined, servant of Karak,” Zusa shouted across the river. With her back to the fire, Alyssa watched, her eyes adjusted enough to see the man standing on the other side. His armor was even darker than the night. He drew his sword, and black flame swelled about it.
    “My name is Ethric, and my faith is fervent,” the paladin shouted back. “But you have cast aside your wrappings, disobeying the order of our god. Will you fight me like a naked whore, or do you hope to distract me while you cut my flesh with your dagger?”
    “When you are dead, I will cast your body to the river,” Zusa shouted. “The fish will nibble on your eyes and worms will feed on your guts. Do you still desire to cross?”
    Ethric laughed.
    “Desire? My desires mean nothing. Karak has commanded your death and the return of Alyssa Gemcroft. I will cross, and I will burn your head and leave your body for the wolves.”
    He took a step into the water. Zusa crouched, her dagger held before her eyes. To Alyssa, she appeared some strange wildling, dangerous, calm, and insane. She shifted closer to the fire, feeling for the first time in her life an urge to pray. Whatever fate lay before her, she knew she wanted the dark paladin to have no part of it. But whom could she pray to in her desire for death other than Karak? Surely Karak would accept no prayers aimed at the destruction of his own champion.
    “One more step,” said Zusa. “Just one more, and I will kill you. The water is your death, Paladin.”
    Ethric waded into the river. At first it flowed to his waist, then rose until it was above his chest. He kept his