2012-08-In the Event of My Untimely Demise Read Free Page B

a charm—a rat perched on a raft. From her reading, Luma vaguely recalled this as the symbol of an obscure river god from the faraway River Kingdoms. The man was likely a priest, able to call down magic from his deity, much as Luma did from the city itself.
    “What would you say, young lady, if I told you I wasn’t following you?”
    Luma couldn’t help finding him likeable—and resenting people who projected charm so readily. “I’m not that young, and a lady only by the skin of my nails.”
    “When you get to my age, you’ll consider everyone young. And I wasn’t following you, I was following the dwarf.”
    “Jordyar.”
    “You’ve met my truculent former colleague, then. Honestly, my dear, let me up. We may discover common goals.”
    “Introduce yourself first.”
    “I am Rieslan, once known as Rieslan the Drowner, now sadly diminished.”
    Luma relaxed the pressure of her knee on his spine. “And let me guess. You went with Jordyar and Aruhal into the Demonsweald, in search of a valuable reliquary.”
    Rieslan sighed. “He told you about that, did he? Dear fellow’s grown talkative in his dotage.”
    “I’m going to let you up, Rieslan. Try anything and you’ll—”
    “No need to complete the threat,” said the river cleric. “I’ve had a long career, and heard them all.”
    Luma got up, her sickle still ready. “You shadowed him in case he was pursued?”
    Rieslan rose, brushing gravel from his leggings. “That’s what I thought you were doing, my dear. Jordyar and I have had a falling out, shall we say, since the old days. I know why I’m chasing him. Why are you?”
    “I’ll ask the questions,” Luma said, watching him rub his creaking finger joints. “I suppose you’ve heard that, too.”
    The old priest twinkled at her. “Very well.”
    “I care about the reliquary only insofar as it might have led to my client’s murder.”
    “Your client?” Rieslan interjected. “You work for Aruhal’s estate?”
    Luma nodded.
    Rieslan steadied himself against the wall. “Someone might have hastened his demise for it. But it wouldn’t be me. Or Jordyar, for that matter.”
    “Why not?”
    “Haven’t you found it notable that we waited till we got word of Aruhal’s death to come for it? He had a curse placed on himself. Whosoever slays Aruhal will himself be slain.” The priest studied Luma’s expression. “You look like someone who’s just had an epiphany.”
    Luma flushed. She hated it when others saw through her. “How did you hear of this curse?”
    “He sent a messenger, to warn us, back when we still stalked him for our share of the loot.”
    “He told you he had a curse placed on himself, and you accepted it as truth?”
    Rieslan held his hands together, as if in prayer. “I asked my god, Hanspur, and was told it was true.”
    “But, as in the way of gods, received no clearer details.”
    Rieslan winced.
    “What is it?” Luma asked.
    He waved her question away. “I get headaches. It is nothing.”
    “So you and your comrades—”
    “Former comrades,” Rieslan said.
    “You all waited until you learned of his death, then came for the treasure. How did you hear of it?”
    “Naphrax posted a spy, who sent word that Aruhal was sick. Jordyar had Naphrax’s dogsbody in his pay, and so learned that Naphrax had broken from his seclusion and was bound for Magnimar. And of course I have been keeping an eye on Jordyar.”
    “This Naphrax, he’s your party’s other survivor? Let me guess—a wizard?”
    A vein pulsed on Rieslan’s forehead. “Sorcerer, but let’s not make fine distinctions.”
    A spell-slinger complicated the possibilities. He might have found a way to break the curse, and killed Aruhal off despite it. But then, why wait until he was sick?
    Luma caught herself playing with her hair again and stopped. “Let see where that leaves us. I don’t care about the treasure. You have no particular reason to protect Aruhal’s killer—if indeed he was killed