Shadowguard

Leah pulled her satchel in front of her and flipped the top, rummaging around until she produced a small stick of chalk. Kneeling on the tavern’s floor, she pressed the stick to the wood and began drawing a complex circle of crossing lines and orderly runes. Leah, if Wil remembered correctly, was a mage before she found herself under the purview of the Golden Lady and her blessings.

"We're not all going," Osain said, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, save Lyra. "This isn't a raid. It's in and out, nothing else."

"Maybe it should be," Corden argued. His fist curled around the sword balanced across his lap. "This has gone on long enough, I think."

Wil caught the change in color as the light shifted across Corden’s blade. Dwarven steel, he realized. The same metal that comprised Everna's shortsword. Though hers was as long as her forearm and considerably narrow, Corden's was a beautifully forged falchion — a weapon not commonly found in Inverness. With how carelessly he handled it, it likely didn't have the same enchantments as Everna's.

Corden didn't need them. Wil had only worked with him on two occasions in the past, and he'd proved he deserved his place among the High Knights. It took an exceptional level of skill, and a generous helping of reckless stupidity, to challenge a shade without the aid of a cleric and win.

"And what? Get your sister, who can barely fight her way out of a wet sack, involved in another brawl?" Osain jeered. "Where none of you can keep a good eye on her? We really need another situation where she can throw herself at an Enforcer. That's what's going to fix this mess."

Evelina spun on her heels and flung her dagger at him. Osain leaned out of the way, hardly impressed, as it slammed into the wall behind him. Wil released a sigh. That was the third weapon she'd thrown in his direction in the last hour.

"Don't get mad at me," he said, pinning his sister with an icy glare. "It's your fault your daughter may as well be a helpless lamb."

"She's not good at fighting," Evelina hissed. "No matter what we would've done—"

"You refused to acknowledge what she is good at because you didn't like it," Osain said, his voice flat. "Quit acting like you wanted what's best for her when you just wanted what was best for yourself. You couldn't handle the fact that your daughter may very well be your daughter."

Evelina seized a butter knife from the counter and lunged. Ronan shot out of his chair, intercepting her before she took more than a couple of steps, and hauled her into his arms. Ignoring his wife's curses, and the few well-aimed hits at his face, Ronan dropped her harshly onto the bar.

Corden merely sighed.

Osain isn't wrong, Wil thought. They didn't have to train her as a full-fledged assassin or sellsword, but they could've done more. If they'd taught her the right sword style, and a few more under appreciated skills, she'd be much better off. Instead, it seemed they saw her perceived inability as the perfect excuse to justify their unwillingness to teach her more.

Everna wasn't untalented, especially in magic, as very few people could manifest the barest flicker of light during their first attempt. It'd taken him months before he'd lit even a spark. She'd conjured a full illusion in a matter of hours.

Her skill with the blade left more to be desired, but her instincts were sound. Ronan likely taught her to fight in the only way he knew and it served Corden well. There was no excuse for Evelina. She should've been the one who taught Everna to use a sword. With what he witnessed in the brawl, he suspected Evelina was the more skilled of the two.

As a former assassin, she'd have to be.

"If you're all done arguing and trading barbs," Leah said, ever the voice of reason, "I've completed the circle."

"I'm going," Evelina hissed, shoving against Ronan's arm.

"No," Osain chided. "You're—"

"She's my daughter!"

Osain leveled her with a withering look. "That's why you're not going. You're too emotionally invested in this."

"You—"

"He's right, Mom," Corden said, crossing his arms over his chest. "There's no telling if she's alright or not. The last thing we need is you getting yourself killed because you flew into a fit of rage—"

Evelina’s nostrils flared. "You think I can't handle myself? Who else would go, then? You?"

"Me," Wil sighed.

She threw him a dirty look. "You're the reason we're having this conversation. And you better hope, for your sake, she's unharmed when I get to her. Whatever they do to her, I'm returning the favor tenfold."

"Send the cleric then," Ronan mumbled.

"She'd draw far too much attention," Osain argued. "They'll feel the divine magic the second she arrives. It needs to be whoever can get in and out the quickest and who isn't overly emotional about the whole situation, and that's Wil."

"Last time I trusted him with my daughter—"

Osain ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, go with him, then. When Shroud uses your daughter against you and you end up with the lot of them on your ass, I don't want to hear it."

Though much smaller than the one at the safe house, and drawn with glowing chalk rather than etched into the floor, the circle radiated magic no less powerful. It washed over Wil, cool and refreshing — like the rush of water against his skin — as he stepped over the runes and into the circle. Evelina followed suit, ducking beneath her husband's arm, glowering.

"One hair is out of place on her head," she said, motioning to his throat with one of her daggers, "and you're dead."

He bit back his reply. While he'd only seen her in action once, he'd seen enough to know she meant every word that left her lips. Evelina may not have explicitly said how far up the ladder she was in Shroud's ranks, but her ability to move through the shadows clearly implied that she wasn't the average grunt. If she wasn't one of their top assassins at one point, he'd eat his boot. She had that aura about her.

"Let's hope this isn't a trap or a mistake," Leah muttered as she placed her hands on a pair of runes.

Teleportation was disorienting, but not in the way many assumed. The woozy feeling that followed came not from traveling along the lines between the realms, but from the suddenness of it all. In the blink of an eye, the tavern gave way to a small bunk room. Beds lined the dusty stone bricked walls, a few rickety chests shoved into the space between them. The sheets were yellowed and stained. A putrid stench clung to the air. Two Shroud agents lay on the floor in the middle of the room, stripped of their garments.

Beside him, Evelina startled. "This is —"

"Mom?!"

Everna appeared before them. Dark robes rested over her shoulders, the ends brushing the ground. A black mask sat bunched beneath her chin. She held a bow in her hands, a half-full quiver of arrows slung over her shoulders.

Evelina shot past him, nearly pushing him into the wall, and pulled her daughter into her arms. "Oh, thank the gods you're okay! How did you get out? I doubt they let you run loose."

A smug smile touched her lips, a fiery brow raised. "I ended Landen's entire family line."

Evelina recoiled. "You... killed him?"

"No, only his capability to conceive," Everna said, a bit too cheerfully. "He is currently unconscious in his cell, er, well, my cell."

Wil immediately stamped down the annoying flutter in his chest at the sight of her smile. She was safe, at least for the moment — thank the gods.

Evelina glanced at the two agents at her feet, then at her daughter, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Then you killed...these two?"

"She killed the one further down the hall, but no, I took these two out."

Everna narrowed her eyes, her arms rising to fold over her chest. She shifted on her feet; her left hip popped out. Wil knew that stance. It preceded almost every argument he'd had with her.

Evelina's reaction was far more peculiar. Her eyes widened, her entire body rigid with surprise. She spun on her heels and her jaw dropped.

"Arden?!"

Wil could hardly contain his own shock. Mayor Ashburn himself stood behind them, Shroud's robes thrown over his imposing frame. He looked older than the last time he saw him — which was dead on the floor of the tavern's guest room. Strands of gray peppered his dark hair. The lines of his face were harsher and more pronounced.

Mayor Ashburn raised a brow. "You didn't really think I dodged Shroud's assassins for decades just to get taken out by Landen, did you? I'd have thought that out of everyone, you and Pala would know better."

"But... they had... you were dead!" Evelina said. "They buried you!"

Wil knew he should pay attention, but his attention returned, unprompted, to Everna. A few seconds later, her gaze settled on him, and her expression softened into smug amusement.

"I see my heroic gremlin with horrible morning hair showed up after all," she said. "To be honest, I wasn't expecting anyone to come."

Without thinking, he reached up to push his hair into place. "Would've been here sooner, but it took forever to find you."

"You look like you just rolled out of bed to me."

"I picked myself up off the street a few hours ago," he sighed. "Maybe I should've gone back to sleep. You seem to have things under control."

She shrugged. "Landen's stupid, and stupid people make things much easier. Though, I'm surprised it's just you and my mother. I figured my father would be tearing the town apart right about now."

"She's not supposed to be here," he grumbled. "But she wouldn't let me and Osain handle it."

"Typical. Probably for the best. The last thing we need is him flying off in a blind fury, not that I think Mom will be much better."

"I suggest we get moving," Evelina said, drawing their attention back to the other conversation. She still seemed stunned, though far calmer than she had been in the tavern. "It won't take Shroud long to realize Everna's not in her cell, or that they're missing agents.”

Everna's expression hardened as she turned back to her mother. "I agree. You and Dad have some explaining to do, and you're not getting out of it this time."