A Dance of Chaos: Book 6 of Shadowdance Read Free Page A

powerful and dangerous one. Last night Tarlak discovered just how powerful.”
    Antonil suddenly straightened his spine, his arms falling to his sides. When he spoke, it was as if his jaw didn’t want to move.
    “The explosion in the western district,” he said. “I just thought it another mess caused by you or the Ash Guild. It was one of the tiles, wasn’t it?”
    Haern let out a sigh.
    “It was,” he said.
    “That explosion leveled two homes and blasted a fair chunk out of the wall surrounding the city. A wall that has stood for years, a wall more than ten feet thick built with ancient stone.”
    “I know.”
    Antonil turned away, ran his hands through his hair, and then suddenly spun about, striking his fist against the door behind him.
    “Do you know how many of those tiles have been buried against the castle’s walls?” he asked. “Two dozen at last count, more than enough to level the whole damn thing. We have to get them out, and now.”
    “You can’t,” Haern said, and he felt a pang of guilt for his words. It seemed everything he said drained more hope and life from the man. “There’s an enchantment upon them, something that messes with their weight and makes them nearly impossible to move by hand. If you do succeed, it will only break the magic and cause the tiles to activate immediately.”
    The weight of the words seemed to be settling on Antonil, and they were heavy indeed.
    “These tiles,” he said, “if they’re magical, isn’t there anything Tarlak can do to disarm them?”
    “Perhaps,” Haern said, after a moment’s hesitation. Tarlak’s rambling tirade about the differences between clerical and arcane magic, as well as the careful wardings built into each of the tiles, flashed through his mind. “It’s complicated, though, and Tarlak’s made little progress. Even trying to analyze one risks setting the spell off, killing anyone nearby. These tiles weren’t buried in quiet little corners, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
    “I have,” Antonil said. He walked to the edge of the battlement, joining Haern, and put his hands on the short stone wall. Swallowing hard, he overlooked the city, and Haern knew he was remembering all the places he’d seen those tiles on his patrols, every intersection, every home, every shop.
    “What does he want?” Antonil asked, his voice now a whisper.
    “If you mean Muzien, I’m not sure,” Haern said. “It’s possible he was used by someone else to smuggle them into the city. So far he’s made no threats and given no ultimatums. It may only be a final measure should he fail to retain control of the underworld. Honestly, I don’t think we’re supposed to know what they do yet. If we act quickly enough, we might be able to salvage the situation into something resembling a happy ending.”
    Antonil laughed, so tired, so bitter.
    “A happy ending,” he said. “I don’t see that ahead of us.”
    Haern put a hand on Antonil’s shoulder, patting the steel pauldron protecting it.
    “Don’t lose hope just yet,” he said. “I’m here now, remember?”
    He grinned, and despite his dour mood, Antonil grinned back.
    “I guess there’s always the chance you’ll pull off another miracle,” the guard captain said. “Stay safe, Watcher. Strange as it sounds, these streets are no longer yours.”
    Haern grabbed the coiled rope at his feet and tossed it over the side.
    “They were never mine,” he said. “But until I die, they will always be under my care.”
    Over the stone he went, using his cloak to protect his hands as he slid down, the rope curled once around his arm. The moment his feet touched ground, the rope ascended.
    “I pray matters went well,” said the lone soldier.
    “Best as I could hope,” Haern said as he returned to the dark streets.
    It took less than thirty seconds to spot a man following him from the corner of his eye. Picking up his pace, Haern traveled the main road running south from the castle to the heart of