The Legend of Asahiel: Book 02 - The Obsidian Key
heard. As a consequence, their gossip escaped him. But he could pry that from Faldron later, if necessary. Some things weren’t worth the risk.
    A cold wind probed the folds of his cloak, seeking to slow the pulse that kept him warm. Hunkered against its chill touch, Zain waited for the secret meeting to draw to a close. Once it did, he had every intention of following this shadow figure—from a distance, of course—to see what he might learn.
    Faldron’s hushed account went on for quite some time without interruption, more recitation than conversation. Not once did Zain detect the voice of the other, if indeed it had one. From the night without came the occasional clop of a distant horse or the echo of a drunkard’s merriment. In this far-removed quarter, at least, the city slept.
    His level of attention was starting to sag, his sharp mind drifting, when he heard the scooting of a chair. He perked at once and ducked lower against the protective dormer. There was the sound of footsteps, the closing of a door, and silence.
    Zain waited. Had the shadow exited by a different route? He started to look, then stopped himself. That was exactly what a hunter did, outlast his prey, wait for it to show itself. The parallel almost made him laugh. Which of the two was he?
    It was not until he heard the slamming of the Hive’s front door that he craned his neck to peer around. There was no sign of the shadow. Quickly he scampered across the roof’s peak and down the other side. Faldron was shuffling toward the stable. Orru, when finished locking up, did the same. The pair stopped briefly to share a grumbling exchange, then disappeared within. A moment later, each was on his separate steed, and headed off in separate ways.
    Zain sank back on his haunches, feeling a slight twinge of regret. He’d missed his chance to gather anything more this night. He should have known that anyone who would go through as much trouble as the shadow had to enter a place unnoticed would not leave the same way. Or maybe he had just flown away on the wind like smoke.
    Either way, the commander’s disappointment was assuaged by an even stronger sense of relief. There were safer ways to study strangers than to track them through the city streets. With Faldron, he knew what he’d been up against, but this other had caught him completely by surprise.
    No matter, he assured himself, delaying for good measure a few moments longer before dropping from the roof and heading for the balcony ladder. He could still rely on Faldron. Maybe even Orru. One way or another, there was clearly more to uncover here, and he intended to do so—just in case it was something he might twist to his own advantage.
    As he made off to retrieve his waiting mount, he felt the stars, like the eyes of a bird of prey, watch him go.

CHAPTER SIX
    M ORE OFTEN THAN HE COULD REMEMBER, Xarius Talyzar had killed a man as a matter of precaution. Every now and then, he let one live for the same reason.
    The spy on the roof of the Queen’s Hive was not Faldron’s. The assassin could see that just by watching the man’s furtive movements around the building’s exterior. More likely a flea picked up by the armorer somewhere along the way. A nuisance rather than a threat. But Xarius tolerated neither.
    He went straight for the roof, cutting off the spy’s approach to the lighted window. His purpose was not to confront it, but to startle it, then gauge its reaction. Had it scampered off in fright, it was probably of no concern. Instead, the insect had held its ground.
    It had come no closer, however. The assassin’s abrupt appearance had made sure of that. He’d marked its skittering movements even while listening to Faldron’s account, making sure it did not venture near enough to see or hear anything. He’d made no mention of it to the armorer. For all his subtlety, the mistrustful smith might have ended their meeting then and there.
    One thing at a time.
    Afterward, given Faldron’s

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