Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

killed, and sent as gifts into the underworld in many different-size containers. After five years, the Trifect was desperate for any sort of victory.
    … eighty-five, eighty-six…
    She heard Haern shout her name. The guards must have seen her own shocked look, and they spared a quick glance. Haern stood before the gates, lock in hand. Men charged after him from the estate, murder on their minds, yet the boy only smiled and hurled the heavy metal contraption toward Kayla’s attackers. When they glanced back, she had already thrown her daggers.
    She didn’t wait to see how badly she’d hurt them. At full run she dropped to one leg, sliding between the group, rolling to preserve her momentum coming out on the other side. And then she was on her feet, heart pounding, legs churning. Haern had pushed open the gate for her by the time she arrived. She grabbed his arm as she passed, never slowing. He cried out in pain, but his leg moved as fast as it could go, which was not fast enough.
    The guards poured out of the gate, sure to catch them.
    For a moment she thought of ditching the boy to save her own skin. In the end she laughed the thought away. They’d made it this far. To run like a coward now just felt pathetic. Besides, she could count at least three times now she’d thought them doomed and they had survived. Why not try for four? Kayla had hoped to lose herself in the crowd, but the crowd gave way instead, wanting no part of the bloody affair. Swearing, Kayla spun to face the guards, determined to die fighting rather than in the torture cells of Laurie Keenan’s mansion.
    A small quarrel shot into the nearest guard’s throat. Several others fell back as more crossbow bolts whizzed through the air. Kayla grabbed Haern and pulled him down, cradling his head against her breast as she held him tight. Another volley of bolts tore into the guards. The common folk screamed and fled, even the few who had desired a bit of spectacle. A single errant shot was all it’d take to change their role from spectator to dead participant.
    Men wearing tattered green cloaks and wielding crossbows surrounded Kayla and Haern. Several others held long dirks, and grinning feral grins they dared the remaining guards to attack. In their indecision, more crossbow bolts shot at gaps in the guards’ armor. Whoever remained their leader, for a good many were dead, raised his arm and shouted a command. The guards turned tail and fled back to the Keenan mansion.
    “Stand up, girl,” one of the green cloaks said to her.
    Kayla glanced up to see a bearded ruffian smiling at her. His eyes were green, and covering both cheeks were tattoos of snakes, one red, one emerald. When she tried to pull Haern along, they closed ranks, blocking the way with their dirks.
    “We have no business with the Serpents,” she told the man, doing her best to add a hard edge to her voice. It was the voice she used when someone offered to pay far less than her information was worth, or even worse, refused to pay at all.
    “The Serpent Guild chooses its business. Now move your ass. We have places to go.”
    There were eight of the Serpents, and with their crossbows loaded they searched up and down the street, which was slowly returning to its normal hum of voices and trade. Kayla started to ask where they were to go, but then the bearded man struck her with his fist. Rough hands grabbed her wrists. Another pinned Haern’s arms behind him and pushed him along.
    “Hope he’s worth it,” another of the Serpents said.
    “Someone both the king and Laurie Keenan wants?” the bearded man said. “He’s worth it.” He turned to his two captives. “Keep your mouths shut and your feet moving, or you’ll find out just how much venom a Serpent can spit.”
    Kayla was in no shape to argue. Through the street they marched, the green cloaks encircling and protecting their recent acquisition. They took a winding path through the streets, but the general direction was west. When she realized this, Kayla perked up, her eyes searching the blur of faces they passed. Haern had said his guild’s hideout was in the west. Perhaps, just perhaps, one of those blurs might be reporting their location…
    The bearded man led them on an abrupt turn to their left, passing between two vendors selling apples and pears. The Serpents’ crossbows fidgeted in their hands, and their eyes seemed to be more alert. They hurried along, jabbing Kayla harder in the back, one helping Haern due