A Dance of Chaos: Book 6 of Shadowdance Read Free

Noticeably absent were any patrols by the city guard. From what Tarlak had told him, the king had given the Sun Guild near-total immunity to any sort of punishment, and it seemed keeping the guard at home was the easiest way to accomplish that. Haern frowned, and for hardly the first time he wished a better man sat on the throne.
    Before him loomed the castle, its large double doors shut and barred. Scaling the stone walls to the upper windows wasn’t the hardest thing to do, but Haern had no need. Keeping to the shadows, he looped around to the eastern side of the castle, opposite the attached prison. There he found one of the many soldiers posted for patrol, an older man with a gentle demeanor that seemed to run counter to the armor he wore and the sword strapped to his thigh. Haern gave one last look about to ensure no one watched, then dashed toward the soldier.
    Instead of being alarmed at the sudden approach, the man only nodded curtly.
    “You’re late,” he said, putting his back to Haern and walking over to the stone wall of the castle. After a quick whistle, a rope fell from one of the battlements.
    “Had to be more careful than usual,” Haern said, grabbing the rope.
    “Ain’t that the truth,” said the soldier.
    Haern flew up the rope, easily scaling the castle and climbing onto the stone battlement, which was little more than a balcony overlooking that side, accessible through a single heavy door. Waiting for him, arms crossed and armor polished, was the man responsible for protecting the city of Veldaren: Antonil Copernus.
    “You’ve been gone awhile,” Antonil said as Haern pulled the rope back up. “Almost thought your note to meet was a trap or trick.”
    “By who, the Darkhand?” asked Haern. “He seems more the type to demand a meeting, not request it.”
    “Given past experience, it’s more that if Muzien wished a meeting, he’d break into my bedroom to have it.” Antonil shook his head. “Gods damn it, where have you been? The city’s gone to shit in your absence, in ways we never could have anticipated.”
    Haern thought of his trek to the Stronghold with Delysia and his father, of how fruitless it had turned out to be, and he pulled his hood lower over his face.
    “My reasons were my own,” Haern said. “And I thought the Sun Guild was crushed when I left. I pray you’ll forgive me the error, so long as I make it right.”
    Antonil rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. The man looked exhausted, and though they met just before midnight, Haern knew the late hour had little to do with it. The responsibilities of his station, coupled with his inability to fulfill them due to the terror Muzien inspired in the king, was clearly wearing on him.
    “If you want to make it right, bring me Muzien’s head so I can hang it by the ears over the city gate,” Antonil said. “Hopefully that’s the reason you’ve requested our little clandestine meeting, to let me know of the bastard’s impending fate.”
    Haern chuckled.
    “I wish,” he said. “No, I have something far worse to share, Antonil, something I need you to swear to secrecy until we have a way to deal with it.”
    The man frowned, the dark circles beneath his eyes making him look more dead than alive.
    “You have my word,” he said. “Now what is it that could possibly be worse than an insane elf who’s declared himself unofficially king?”
    Haern almost didn’t tell him. There wasn’t much the man could do beyond spreading panic if he refused to keep his mouth shut, but Antonil was a loyal ally, and had proven his trustworthiness a dozen times before. Given the dire situation the city was in, he needed all the help he could get.
    “Have you seen the tiles bearing the mark of the Sun that Muzien’s placed all throughout the city?” he asked.
    Antonil looked surprised at the question.
    “I have,” he said, brow furrowing. “What of them?”
    “They’ve been magically enchanted with a spell, a very