Part 16 (2/2)

Cale looked into her eyes. ”What will you do?”

She smiled and waved a hand at the cottage. ”I will keep up the house and tend my garden. I will draw water from the well and put food on the table. This is home for me now. It will not be the same without you, but it will still be home.”

”I am sorry, Varra,” Cale said, and meant it.

She smiled. Her tears glistened in the starlight. ”I know those are not idle words. That is why I love you.”

She touched his lips. He kissed her fingers. She closed her eyes and smiled. Without another word, she rose, pushed him back in the chair and climbed atop him.

”Varra ...”

She hushed him with a finger on his lips. He looked into her eyes and understood-they both knew this was farewell. He surrendered to the moment, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her neck. Her body radiated warmth; his radiated shadows.

Her hands answered his, caressing his shoulders, his hair, the back of his neck. She kissed his ear, his lips. He slipped her nightdress over her head and ran his hands down the length of her nude body. She tugged at his nights.h.i.+rt.

He put everything out of his mind except her-her smell, her touch, her taste. He wanted to remember them always. She responded with the same urgency. Soon they were lost in each other, and his hands, the blood-stained hands that had killed demons, slaads, and dozens of men, were gentle for a time.

Afterward, they walked naked to the cottage in silence, holding hands. When he entered, he took his gear from his old wooden chest and donned his enchanted leather armor, strapped on Weaveshear and his daggers, pulled on his boots. His gaze fell upon the book he had received from the guardian of the Fane of Shadows. He had not opened it in over a year. The last time he had opened it, he discovered that Mask had placed a black mask within it-a new holy symbol. He held the book in his hands, studying its face. He flipped open the cover.

No mask. He smiled with relief and put the book in his satchel.

Varra watched him throughout. ”Must you leave tonight?”

”I think it is better this way, Varra.”

She nodded and said softly, ”I have something for you.”

She went to her night table and took something from the drawer-a piece of cloth, a black piece of cloth. A mask. Cale's holy symbol. Shadows swirled around him.

”I found it in the garden two days ago. The wind must have blown it there. I knew what it was but I said nothing. I'm ... sorry. But I kept it for you. I've known since then that you would leave.”

She held it out for Cale.

He hesitated, took it, and stuffed it in his pocket. It lay there like a lead weight.

She looked up into his face. ”When I wake up, you will be gone?”

He nodded. ”I will wait until you fall asleep before I leave.”

”I hope you will return.”

He said nothing, kissed her once more, embraced her one last time, and she climbed into bed, into their bed. He sat with his hand on her hip while sobs shook her. He could not stop his own tears. Exhaustion eventually overcame her and her breathing grew steady.

He stood and took a long look around the cottage. He had called it home for over a year. It had been a good year. He looked down on Varra, committed her sleeping face to memory, pulled the shadows about him, and transported himself to Selgaunt, back to the only family he'd ever had.

CHAPTER EIGHT

29 Marpenoth, the Year of Lightning Storms.

Cale appeared where he had intended, in a narrow alley off Rauncel's Ride in Selgaunt's Warehouse District. Crumbling mudbrick walls boxed him in. Barrels and crates lay haphazardly strewn through the alley. The smell of old vomit and stale p.i.s.s hung in the air. Cale almost smiled at the familiarity of the odor. He glanced up and down the alley and saw no one.

”Ao, but you took time enough coming back,” said a voice.

Cale whirled around, jerking Weaveshear from its scabbard. Shadows swirled from steel and flesh. He spotted the speaker-a slim, dark-haired man with several days' growth of beard on his face-huddled p.r.o.ne against the alley wall. How had Cale missed him the first time?

The man lifted himself on his elbow and peered up at Cale out of a ma.s.s of threadbare, filthy clothes and a misshapen, stained cap. Cale figured him a drunk. He saw no weapons.

Cale lowered Weaveshear, took a few fivestars from one of his belt pouches, and tossed them on the ground near the drunk.

”Mind your own affairs, friend.”

The drunk did not even glance at the coins. He had eyes only for Cale.

”Haven't I been doing that all this time?” he asked.

The man's knowing tone made Cale wary. Weaveshear still in hand, Cale approached until he stood two paces from the stranger. Shadows oozed lazily from Cale's blade.

”How do you mean?” Cale asked.

The drunk chuckled and sat up with a grunt. Cale realized that the stench of vomit and p.i.s.s came from the man's clothing, not the alley. Close proximity made the smell worse. Cale wrinkled his nose.

”Foul, eh?” the man said and looked down at his clothing. ”Keeps the stray dogs from bothering me.”

The man seemed to notice the coins for the first time.

”Ah,” he said, and all three vanished under a single deft pa.s.s of his hand.

Cale could tell the man was not what he appeared-he was too clear-eyed, to precise in his movements-though Cale did not yet know whether he was dangerous. He had encountered shapes.h.i.+fters before and decided to take no chances. He pointed Weaveshear's tip at the man's face.

”Who are you?”

The man seemed unbothered by the shadow-bleeding blade pointed at his face. He reached up and put a fingertip on the edge. Shadows from the steel corkscrewed his finger.

”Nice weapon,” the man said. He took his finger from the blade, produced one of Cale's fivestars, and tossed it into the air. He caught it on his fingertip, balanced upright on one of its five corners.

Cale kept the wonder from his face. He knocked the coin from its perch with Weaveshear and it c.h.i.n.ked on the stones of the alley.

”I will ask you only once more. Who are you?”

The man frowned at the fallen coin. He looked up and asked, ”Who do you think I am?”

Cale said nothing, though something about the man felt familiar.

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