Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

what happens when you resist me?”
    They nodded. In response, Thren turned and rammed his short sword through one of James’s eyes. His face locked in a vicious snarl, Thren twisted the blade and then yanked it free. Gore splattered across the floor.
    “Do you see now?” he asked them.
    He cleaned the blade, sheathed it, and then turned to Kadish.
    “Get your men ready,” he said. “The Wolf Guild will surround them and cut off any retreat once they’re within the outer gate. We’ll crush them between us, all of them. We end this tonight!”
    Kayla followed him back outside as he walked toward the gate’s exit.
    “Where are you going now?” she asked.
    “To get my son,” he said. “The priests should be done with him. I want him to watch our victory.”
    “But Maynard might be on his way already,” Kayla insisted. “We don’t have time for you to go looking for him.”
    Thren snapped to a halt and turned. Something about her words, the way she was trying to stall…
    “Why would I need to go looking?” he asked. “Or do you know of some reason he would have left their compound?”
    The way Kayla stood there, mouth slightly open, told him all he needed to know. Lies grew and died on her tongue, unable to endure his glare. When she’d joined his guild, he’d seen great promise, someone willing to endure so much for the safety of his son, someone willing to kill and bleed just to join his guild. But now he saw weakness. Now he saw a heart not made for the night.
    “Aaron broke out,” she said at last. “He resisted their attempts and met with me on the rooftops.”
    Thren stepped closer toward her. His hand subtly shifted toward the sword strapped to his hip.
    “And you never told me this why?” he asked.
    “He’s dead to you,” she said. “He told me so. You’ll never see him again.”
    “Why did you not tell me!” he screamed, not caring that the different guilds were watching.
    “Because he deserves better,” she whispered. “Better than what you would make him be.”
    “Better?” asked Thren. “Every living man and woman would soon quake in fear of his name. He would be a killer even greater than I. He was so close to perfect, so close, but now he’s gone. Not your place, Kayla. It was never your place.”
    She dropped to one knee as he swung, drawing daggers free from her belt. They were slender, curved, designed for throwing instead of close melee. Thren knew that, and he kept closer, punching with his swords so that she must twist and parry instead of trying a throw. But despite her skill she was nothing, not to him. Just a girl who threw knives.
    One such knife whirled through the air, a single desperate attempt by Kayla. It missed Thren’s cheek by a hair’s width. And then he was upon her, thrusting his swords through her stomach. She gasped, her hands opening and closing, her dagger belt torn, her daggers clanging off the ground. Her knees buckled, and she fell to her back.
    “Doesn’t matter,” she said, blood dripping down her lips. “He’s free of you, Thren. Free…”
    Thren stood over her body, his shoulders slumped and his jaw trembling, as he watched her die. Everything was crumbling. The fire at Leon Connington’s. His son’s betrayal. So far no news had come from the castle about the Naked Bells’ attempt on the king, and he still had a chance of killing Maynard Gemcroft. The night wasn’t a total loss, not yet.
    He returned to the mansion to wait. There was no point in searching for Aaron, not then. When things calmed, he’d scour the city, search under every rock and look into every hole if he must. But not yet.
    “What in Karak’s name did she do?” Kadish asked when Thren returned.
    “She hid things from me,” Thren said. “Now see to your men. The Kensgold ended not long ago. They should return within the hour.”
    Kadish shrugged.
    “All right, then. Shame about that bitch, though. She was a cute one.”
    Remembering how that cuteness had helped corrupt his son, Thren snarled and struck the wall with his fist.
    “Or not,” Kadish said before going from Hawk to Hawk ensuring their readiness for the ambush.
    Maynard Gemcroft knew something was afoot when Laurie disbanded the Kensgold early, but he wasn’t sure what exactly. Madelyn’s absence was conspicuous, but that wasn’t something he could know about for certain. Leon had no shortage of grumblings and complaints, calling Laurie every possible name for a bad host, plus a few