Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

punishment, not even his own son?
    “I want to know,” Aaron blurted, his voice no longer a whisper. He pressed on, speaking faster and faster as if to outrun his own doubt. “What we do, what we are. I train and train, but I am still treated as a child. I know so little of the city, and if it weren’t for Kayla, I’d be in a dungeon. Or dead.”
    “That still does not give you permission to spy on my activities!”
    Aaron expected the boy to cower. Thren’s fury was like a monster all its own, and against that raised voice even Robert had felt a momentary flinch of panic. But instead Aaron only tilted his head, and then spoke so softly.
    “But spying on you is how I saved your life.”
    The battle-hardened guildmaster was struck by the simple pronouncement. He looked at the young man before him, and he looked lost in a past Robert knew nothing of. The old man looked away, for some reason worried that if Thren should realize he watched, he’d react violently against him.
    “You’re right,” Thren said, his fury subsiding. “Just a child you were, yet you killed without hesitation.” Thren looked to Robert. “Killed his own brother, even. That is the level of his loyalty, that he would remove that brash, unworthy fool so he might become my proper heir. I do not want him coddled, not anymore. When you teach him, teach him the truth, no matter how painful.”
    Thren put a hand on his son’s shoulder.
    “Though you disappoint me with your trespass, part of the blame is mine. From now on, you will be at my side at all times. My life is not safe, Aaron, as you will soon discover. But know that regardless of the risk, I will bring you with me.”
    “I’m not scared,” Aaron said.
    “Even I am sometimes afraid, as will you often be.”
    The boy shook his head.
    “Scared or not,” he said, “I’ll never show it.”
    A foolish boast, one Robert had heard a thousand times. But looking at that child, seeing his resolve and courage, Robert knew without a doubt that he believed him.

CHAPTER
9
    T he message had come yet again, and this time James Beren was tempted to shout out his Ash Guild’s response at the top of his lungs. At least that would get Thren off his ass. Either that, or a dagger stabbed into it, but by this point he might have preferred the brutal attempt of force over the sickeningly sweet diplomacy Thren seemed prone to lately.
    “Shall we give our usual answer?” asked Veliana, his right-hand man … although since she was a woman, he figured he should change her title, but crude amusement kept him from doing so. She was a pretty thing with cream-colored skin, red hair tied in a long ponytail, and dazzling violet eyes. Several daggers were clipped to her belt, her skill with them almost legendary, especially for one her age, and she was rumored to have a bit of magic in her as well. A few had murmured about how the little girl of eighteen had slept her way to James’s side, but that was all hogwash. Her mind was as sharp as her dagger, frightening in its deadliness.
    “His plan is suicide,” James said, pacing within the warmly lit study. They were holed up in a safe house deep within the slums of Veldaren. Hundreds of families provided ample cover for their coming and going, and a bit of well-placed coin and occasional bread did wonders to ensure those families’ discretion. A few hanging bodies had helped as well.
    “Perhaps such a risk must be taken to end this,” Veliana said. “He writes that we are the last holdout; all the other guildmasters have signed on.”
    “That’s because he’s killed everyone who disagreed,” James said, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “And the rest he cowed with a few subtle threats dripping with poison. He’s grown desperate and delusional. Surely you can agree with me on that?”
    Veliana smiled at him, a practiced smile that hid any of her true emotions from James. He felt her watching him as he paced. He also felt every bit of his forty years graying his hair and wrinkling his face. The Ash Guild was the smallest of all the thieves’ guilds, but it was certainly not the weakest. With small size came added secrecy and stealth. They did not need to pad their numbers with riffraff and lowborn drunkards who couldn’t steal a diaper from a suckling babe. But despite that core strength, they could not challenge the Spider Guild. Not yet.
    “I’m not sure I can agree,” she said, not revealing whether she meant with Thren or with