Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

Delysia Eschaton.”
    “Delysia…”
    To her it sounded like he was feeling over the word with his tongue, applying it to some unknown memory or picture. Perhaps he was trying to imagine what she looked like…?
    “You stay put, all right?” she said. “I’ll tell the guards you behaved when they come.”
    “It won’t matter, Delysia,” said Haern.
    “Why not?” she asked.
    “Because they’ll kill me.”
    Delysia shivered, wishing she had worn something warmer. The blankets of her bed were not far away, but she didn’t want to leave sight of the pantry for a second. So far Haern hadn’t tried to get out, but he might be biding his time.
    “They won’t do that,” she said.
    “They will. You’re not safe. You have to get out of the city, Delysia. When my … when Thren realizes Dustin failed, he’ll send another after you. He won’t stop until you’re dead.”
    She wanted to believe he was lying. If he was, he was really good at it.
    “Who is Thren?” she asked.
    A soft chuckle echoed from within the pantry.
    “You really don’t know? Thren Felhorn, leader of the Spider Guild. He’s dangerous. He’s the one who killed your father. You should have died when he did, but the other killer…”
    His voice trailed off. Delysia’s hands trembled like little birds. In every corner she imagined the man from the hallway. He held a metal club in his hand, his pale face lit with a grin.
    “I don’t know where to go. Dad’s will gave all his farms to the workers. We have money, but Gran won’t listen. She never listens to me. Can’t we just hire some guards?”
    Another soft laugh within.
    “Guards? You really don’t know anything, do you?”
    Her anger flared.
    “Well, at least I’m not the one stuck in a pantry!”
    He didn’t seem to have a comeback for that. A minute passed in brooding silence. Haern cracked first, and that alone made Delysia feel a little better.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “How old are you, Delysia?”
    She puffed out her chest, even though he couldn’t see it.
    “I’m ten, almost eleven.”
    “I’m only thirteen,” said Haern. “I don’t think either of us know anything, do we?”
    She almost took it as an insult, then let it drop. Sitting there, scared and alone and wishing her Gran were back, she found it a little hard to argue.
    “You really think someone else will come for me and Gran?” Delysia asked.
    “Yes, I do.”
    Delysia sighed. She felt like crying some more, so she did. Again Haern waited patiently for her to finish. She wondered how much time had passed. Surely Gran should be back with guards by now?
    “Why are you here?” she asked after wiping her face with the hem of her shift.
    “I said already, to protect you.”
    “But that’s stupid,” she said. “You’re barely older than me!”
    “The man in the hallway is dead, isn’t he?”
    The way he said it gave her another chill. Delysia curled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. She stared at the pantry, oddly curious as to what Haern’s face looked like underneath his mask.
    “The guards won’t really kill you when they get here, right?” she asked. “You’re just saying that so I let you out.”
    “They know who I am. That alone will earn me death.”
    Again she thought of his mask.
    “You know who is after us,” Delysia said. “That means you can help us. Can you? I know you’re young, but you stopped that man before. Can you do it again?”
    “I don’t know,” she heard Haern say. “Maybe you should leave me for the guards.”
    That seemed to stoke a bit of fire in her.
    “If you can help me then say so! I won’t have you dying in there because of who you are. Daddy says … Daddy always said to judge someone by what they do, not by their name or what they say.”
    “Some names are so bloody they must be judged,” Haern said quietly.
    Delysia shook her head. Her father had hammered home certain things in his lectures, and that was one.
    “Grace is stronger than blood,” she said.
    On the far side of the house, the door opened. Delysia’s heart jumped, but then she heard Gran shouting at the top of her lungs.
    “Del? I’m here, sweetie! It’s Gran, and I’ve got the guard!”
    She looked to the hallway, then to the pantry. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave him to die.
    Even though she was still young, she was as tall as Gran was. It wasn’t because she was extraordinarily tall, more that Gran had never been tall to begin with, and her