Blood of the Underworld by David Dalglish

Haern,” she said, quiet enough that no one else would hear. “He has to know who this Widow is, or what it means. And contact that wizard of his. I will have this murderer found, no matter the cost.”
    “Will you be safe without me?”
    Alyssa sighed.
    “No, but I trust no one else. Go, now.”
    Zusa headed for the front gates, then stopped. Hurrying back, she kissed Alyssa’s hand and pulling her close.
    “Something is wrong in this city,” the Faceless woman whispered. “Too many pieces are moving at once to be coincidence. We are lost in someone’s game. Be wary, and be safe.”
    With that, she left, vaulting over the spiked walls with ease. Alyssa watched her go while absently rubbing her hand. She did not know all Zusa meant, but she understood the feeling well. Her mother, Victor’s arrival, the Widow, plus Zusa had mentioned a personal matter...
    “Stay safe,” she murmured, staring at the wall Zusa had vanished beyond. Wrapping her arms around her chest as if cold, she returned to her mansion.

 
     
     
     
     
    7

    H aern awoke a little after midday to the sound of the tower doors slamming shut. Instinct told him that something was wrong, a bad feeling in the air. Grabbing his sabers and cloaks, he slipped out his room and down to the bottom floor. There, before the fireplace, he found Delysia sitting on a couch, her brother pacing furiously.
    “The audacity!” the wizard muttered.
    “Care to fill me in, Tar?” Haern asked, still on the steps. Tarlak heard him and stopped. His look was none too friendly.
    “Honestly? No. I’m too pissed.”
    “Behave,” Delysia said, and despite her brother’s mood, she laughed. “You’re overreacting and you know it. And good morning, Haern.”
    Haern joined Delysia on the couch, and together they watched Tarlak fume. Delysia leaned over, her head resting against his chest. After a sniff, she sat back up.
    “Your cloaks smell like death.”
    Haern shrugged.
    “That tends to happen.”
    The priestess sighed, and reached out her hand. When he removed his cloaks, she took them to the door and set them down to be washed later that day. As she did, Tarlak stopped pacing, and instead crossed his arms and frowned at the assassin.
    “Lord Victor was just here,” said the wizard.
    “That so?” Haern lifted an eyebrow. “What did he want?”
    “Wanted me to ward the home he’s currently staying in, cover it with various protection spells so no clever thief can teleport under his bed and stab him while he sleeps.”
    “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Haern said as Delysia returned, leaning against his arm and resting her head on his shoulder. “Why the fuss?”
    “He wanted...bah!” He threw up his hands. “He wanted to pay us after his quest or mission or whatever this nonsense he’s doing is over. Said he couldn’t spare the coin just yet, something about mouths to feed. Worse, he actually hinted he’d appreciate me doing it for free. You hear that? Free!”
    “Truly, he is an evil man,” Haern said.
    Tarlak stopped and gave him a death glare.
    “Care to share your opinion, mister cloak and saber?”
    “It’s pretty simple, though you won’t want to hear it. I think you should help him.”
    Tarlak blinked.
    “You do?”
    Haern shrugged. He still hadn’t fully made up his mind about the man, but he had little doubt Victor meant to see through to the end his desire to clean the streets of Veldaren. If he could be trusted to at least do that...
    “I think he truly thinks he’s helping. More importantly, I think he might pull it off. The thief guilds haven’t faced a man quite like him before. Look at you. The only reason you’re so bothered is because you’re thinking of helping him for free, despite all desire otherwise.”
    Tarlak shook his head.
    “He’s an egotistical ass.”
    “Hardly the only one around here.”
    The wizard glared as his sister covered her mouth with a hand to hide her laughter.
    “Careful,” he said to