Uneasy Alliances by David Cook Page B

us that was her name, Entreri. Now, what’s the lad talking about?”
    Artemis looked at Kern, who cleared his throat.
    “Noph found Lady Eidola in this cell. Apparently she was chained. When he released her, however, he must have broken some sort of restraint, because she showed her true form as a greater doppleganger. The shapeshifter turned into a crocodile and attacked Noph. I suppose it must have thought he was dead, because it swam out of the cell just as we were coming in.”
    He turned to Trandon for confirmation. The fighter nodded. “Obviously there’s a lot more to this affair than any of us suspected. We probably won’t know exactly what’s going on until Miltiades and the others catch Eidola—that is, catch the doppleganger who looks like Eidola.”
    Sharessa grunted. “So now what?”
    Artemis stepped nearer to the beautiful mercenary. It seemed to her that his voice took on a peculiar intensity, as if he wished her, and her alone, to understand some hidden meaning in his words. “This city is infested with an army of fiends bent on killing everything human in it. We’re caught between them and the mad king Aetheric, who has ruled this city from a fish tank and whose armies are in total disarray. If we’re to survive, we need his source of power. We need the bloodforge.”
    He stopped. Sharessa felt a shiver run down her spine. Artemis had some plan for the bloodforge beyond saving Eldrinpar, of that she was sure. But she’d learned enough of this secretive man to know that he would keep his plans to himself.
    The diminutive master assassin broke the silence himself, stepping nearer Noph and assessing the youth’s condition with the practiced glance of one who has seen many wounded men. “He’ll not last long. We’d best leave while we can.” He drew a dagger from his belt and moved closer.
    Kern stepped in front of him. “What d’you think you’re doing, Entreri?”
    The slender man shrugged slim shoulders. “As I said. He’s dead already. It’s kinder to let his body know now.”
    Kern’s eyes blazed. “You’ll not murder him—not while I’m in charge of this party.”
    Entreri looked calmly at the golden paladin, whose armor sparkled in the flaring torchlight. “Be reasonable. I’ve seen what the fiends that inhabit this place can do. Ask them”—he waved at the mercenaries—”what happened to Brindra at the bridge. I’d rather spare the lad that agony.” His eyes glittered suddenly, hard and dry. “And by the way, who says it’s you who’s in charge? I led my employees here through the jungle. I pulled them out of a scrape in Tharkaar. And I understand exactly what we’re after.”
    “We’re after …” Kern started to reply, then clamped down on the words. Gaining control of his temper, he spoke slowly and distinctly. “We have to care for this lad, even if you’ve abandoned him. And while I’m here, I’ll not let you harm him.”
    Trandon moved next to Kern, their bodies shielding Noph from Entreri. “Nor I, assassin.”
    Entreri glanced at them contemptuously. “Shar, let’s get this over with quickly.” His sword was in his hand, the point toward the paladin. Shar also drew her sword, but its blade dipped to the floor. She stared hard at the little assassin, then shook her head and stepped away from him.
    “No, Artemis.” She sheathed her blade. “The lad might live if we can find a way out of these damned cellars. Until then I won’t give him up.” She gazed at the assassin steadily. “And I won’t let you hurt him.”
    Entreri’s usually impassive face showed no emotion, but his knuckles whitened on his sword. He looked at the golden paladin. “Ready?”
    “More than ready,” snapped Kern, raising his blade.
    Behind the little man, the door suddenly rattled. Through the barred window in the cell door shot an elongated three-jointed arm ending in a rounded claw. Quick as death, it seized Entreri round the neck, dragging him backward against the