Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

watching for the slightest movement on Kayla’s part.
    “You gave me warning,” Veliana said. “For that I’ll let you live.”
    “Aaron has done nothing wrong,” Kayla said. “Hate the Spider Guild, and justly so, but he’s not his father. He’s done nothing wrong.”
    “Neither did she,” Veliana said, pointing at the body of the dead girl. She put her ear against the door, listening. When all was silent, she kicked it open and ran. Kayla rose to her knees, rubbing at her throat where Veliana’s knife had pressed. She stared at the bodies around her and wondered how she had fallen so far. All she had wanted was a bit of coin, but Thren had given her a taste of power. He’d hinted at something even greater. Now an ocean of blood swirled across the mansion floor, its guilt on her as much as anyone else. Except Thren.
    As if her thoughts had summoned him, Thren Felhorn stepped inside the room and glanced about. Dimly she wondered how much time had passed.
    “The Ash Guild is no more,” he said, sounding disinterested. He stepped about, seeing the dead Hawks and the young girl. “What is going on here, Kayla? Get off your knees. You aren’t some low-rent whore.”
    “We lost too many,” Kayla said. She felt cold inside. Her skin tingled, and she felt certain death awaited her. “We failed you. We can spring no trap here.”
    Thren tilted his head to one side. He cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the eye.
    “If you failed, it was because of the strength of our opponent and my failure to prepare accordingly. I saw the remnants of the spells on my way inside. Maynard prepared well for us, far better than the others.”
    Thren nodded toward the carnage.
    “You haven’t answered my question. What happened here?”
    She glanced at the two dead rogues.
    “They disobeyed orders,” she said. “I made them pay for it.”
    Thren smiled at her.
    “Death for disobedience,” he said. “A woman after my own heart.”
    He kissed her forehead.
    “Come with me to the Kensgold. The attack at Leon’s has gone smoothly so far, and I’ve ordered Senke to leave Leon alive so I might give him his deserved punishment. Still, we have much to do before that fight begins. We’ve struck at the Connington and Gemcroft families, but the Keenans have so far gone unscathed. That changes now.”
    Thren left the bedroom and headed toward the mansion’s exit.
    As if lost in a nightmare, Kayla followed.

CHAPTER
33
    T he king was in a fouler mood than normal. From the window of a castle tower he had observed the great masses traveling west out of Veldaren, followed by the start of the feasting and celebrations. Gerand was waiting for him in his throne room. Sixteen guards protected His Majesty when he entered.
    “It looks like an army gathers at our doorstep,” King Vaelor said as he sat on his throne. “And where are my subjects? Shouldn’t I have petty squabbles to settle?”
    “Most have decided to partake in festivities that transpire every two years rather than wait in line for a ruling they may get on any day,” Gerand explained.
    “But everyone?” Vaelor wondered. “Surely there’s a few level-headed men about somewhere.”
    “There were a few,” Gerand said, clearing his throat. “I sent them away. From everything we know, today should be … interesting, and I felt it best to keep you safe.”
    King Vaelor rolled his eyes. As if determined to show how brave he was, he dismissed half his retainer of guards, leaving only a paltry eight watching over him. Gerand did his best not to roll his own eyes in return. With the sheer amount of mercenaries gathered outside the walls, the advisor had thought it best to keep the king’s day dull. Besides, with all eyes turned to the Kensgold, there was too much risk of a silent dagger striking the other way.
    “Safe,” the king muttered. “Often you have promised to keep me safe, but where are the results of your promises? What has grown from your comforting words? I was promised the head of Thren Felhorn, yet where is it?”
    Gerand coughed and looked at the guards. King Vaelor realized what he wanted and dismissed the remaining eight.
    “Don’t get any ideas,” the king said once they were on the far side of the throne room. He pulled back his robe to reveal his gold sword belted at his hip. Gerand was far from impressed but didn’t dare let that show.
    “As you must understand,” Gerand began, “arranging Thren’s murder is