Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

back had bent with age. Delysia climbed atop the chair and stretched for the dagger lodged in the lock. On the second tug it broke free, showering a few splinters atop her head.
    “Say something, hon, you’re scaring me!” Gran shouted.
    “I’m in here,” Delysia shouted back as she pulled the chair away and then flung the door open. Haern stood waiting for her, his mask pulled tight around his face. Blood had soaked it throughout. For a brief moment she expected him to attack her. He didn’t. He only stared at her with the strangest of expressions.
    “Don’t stand there,” she whispered. “Hide!”
    When Gran arrived, accompanied by two gruff-looking men in the brown armor of the city guard, Delysia was sitting in the chair facing the pantry. She looked up and smiled at Gran, but her eyes were wild with fear.
    “Are you all right?” Gran asked as she scooped her granddaughter into her arms. The guards had stopped to examine the body in the hallway. When Delysia didn’t respond, Gran glanced at the pantry door and saw it slightly ajar.
    “Did he hurt you?” she asked, her eyes suddenly widening with fear.
    “I’m fine,” she said. “He got away is all. He wasn’t dangerous.”
    “Wasn’t dangerous? Wasn’t … did you even see what he did to that man? He cut his damn throat, you stupid girl!”
    At this point one of the guards entered, looking around with a distant, tired expression.
    “Where’d you say the boy was?”
    “Um, er, he’s…” stammered Gran.
    “He got away,” Delysia said. “He kicked open the door and ran.”
    “Hrm,” muttered the guard. “You see what he looked like?”
    “He had a mask,” Gran said, finally composing herself. “I didn’t think to remove it.”
    “Can’t do much about that, then. What do you reckon happened to the thief back there? Those cuts don’t look like a boy made them.”
    “I’ve told you what I know,” said Gran.
    The guard shrugged and left the kitchen. They examined the body a few minutes longer, then gave the estate a lazy search, finding nothing. When a third guard showed up with a wagon for the body, they picked it up and carried it outside.
    “I’d reckon you should get yourselves some mercenaries,” one said to them. “Place like this, it looks like you should be able to afford a sellsword or two.”
    Delysia stayed in her seat the whole while, not once getting up to leave the kitchen. Gran wandered about before dismissing the guards. When she returned to the kitchen, her face was a lively red.
    “Well that was embarrassing enough,” she said. “I tell them stories of a dangerous young man locked in my pantry, and all I can show them is dust bunnies and some rotted cabbage!”
    Gran caught Delysia’s eyes drifting over her shoulder and turned to look. Sitting on top of the counter, a cabinet door open below him, was Haern. Delysia winced as Gran screamed bloody murder.

CHAPTER
19
    T he third safe house was the correct one. Veliana glanced around to make sure no one watched, then pushed aside a false brick in the giant wall surrounding the city. When she did, a lever snapped within the wall, unseen gears turned, and the dirt below her shifted as a circular sheet of metal lifted upward. Replacing the brick, Veliana climbed down a small ladder, and then replaced the lid. It would be visible under close inspection for a day or two until the dust settled over it and a few walked across it.
    Not that it mattered. If Gileas really had told Thren its location, they had less than an hour to get out.
    In the darkness that overcame her when she replaced the lid, Veliana had to feel around to get her bearings. There was only one direction to go, back toward the city in a cramped tunnel. She squirmed on her belly, elbows tucked tight against her sides. About twenty feet in, the tunnel started sloping upward. Another twenty feet and she bopped her head against a solid piece of wood.
    “Shit,” she said as she touched her throbbing forehead. Normally, close to the false bottoms of buildings, there’d be light sneaking through the cracks. Here there was nothing. Feeling around blindly, she found a small lever and pulled it. Grating noises from both sides filled her ears, and then a whoosh of air above her signified the board’s removal. She climbed out.
    It didn’t take long to figure out why there was no light warning her of the false bottom. She was in the basement of a rather large mansion. She’d known of the entrance