Caim jogged through a groined archway into another wing of the palace. As he passed a flight of stairs, distant sounds caught his ear: the slam of a door followed by a wailing roar. The storm.

Caim shook the excess gore from his knives as he turned onto the steps.

The shadows coursed before him.

CHAPTER THIRTY

ur chariot awaits, Princess," Ral crooned into Josey's ear.

She tried to bite him, but he kept his arm well away from her mouth. The sharp point of his sword pressed into her back.

A carriage awaited in the bailey courtyard below, surrounded by fluttering torches held aloft by rain-drenched soldiers. Ral shouted to catch their attention, but his words were lost in the storm. Josey almost laughed at his predicament. Besides the door there was no other way off the roof except for a fifty-foot drop to unforgiving stone.

"Your lover," he said, "is dead by now, darling. A pity I didn't get the chance to cut his throat myself. Shall we go see the corpse?"

Before he could take a step, however, a shape appeared in the doorway. Josey didn't have to see the face to know who it was. A gasp broke from her lips, and relief, so long withheld, suffused her body and drove away the bitter chill as Caim stepped out onto the roof. He moved with his customary grace, but Josey could see his side was paining him by the way he walked. His long knives glittered in his hands, their blades stained scarlet. And he wore something new. The hilt of a sword jutted over his right shoulder.

While Josey took in the sight of her savior, a hulking figure moved from behind the door. She opened her mouth to warn Caim, but Ral mashed his forearm hard against her lips. The Brother swung. Josey's muscles went rigid as she witnessed what happened next, for she had seen it before in the cellar beneath her father's house.

The night came alive.

One moment the mace was sailing toward Calm's head, and then he was gone, wrapped in impenetrable shadows. Red stains blossomed on the Brother's uniform, at his side, his arm, his chest. Slack-jawed, the soldier collapsed and did not move again.

Josey sighed as Caim emerged from the darkness.

"Bloody Phebus." Ral yanked Josey sideways. "Not another step! The princess and I are leaving. You'll stand aside if you don't want to see her insides splattered all over the yard."

Caim stopped a dozen paces away. "I don't think so, Ral. Without Josey you're just an upstart with dreams of grandeur."

"I've got important friends, people who want to see me on the throne. Princess or no princess, I will rule Othir."

"Then prove it." Caim took another step. "Kill her."

Josey shuddered as she looked into his eyes. He wasn't bluffing.

"Stay back!" Ral shouted.

But Caim took yet another step, closing the distance between them.

Ral shifted his grip, and Josey felt herself slipping. Her bare feet scrabbled on the slick tiles. Caim leapt for her. He had dropped his knives. Pick them up! she cried inside her head even as she reached for him.

They slid down the slope, both of them straining to reach the other, but all she could think about was Ral, lurking above them, ready to pounce at any moment. A scream lodged in Josey's throat as the roof ended and empty space yawned beneath her feet.

Their fingers missed by inches.

Then, she was falling. Josey closed her eyes, the cry forgotten, and resigned herself to a swift death.

Something seized her arm and jerked her plummet to a halt. She looked up through the pouring rain, thinking Caim had somehow managed to catch her, but what she saw instead brought the scream rushing up her throat. Black as coal, so dark she couldn't make out its outline at first, it perched on a stone rainspout like a gargoyle. It looked like an overgrown wolfhound or a great jungle cat, with deep black holes for eyes and huge fangs like sooty icicles. Though the thing looked monstrous, it held her arm gingerly in its massive jaws.

Josey shook with body-jarring sobs as she hung from the mouth of the beast. Choking on tears of joy and fear, she contemplated the stones of the courtyard below. With firm resignation, she reached up around the creature's neck with her other arm. Rough bristles scraped against her wet skin.

With a rumbling growl, the creature shook its head and let go. Josey's piercing wail sliced through the storm as she fell, but her scream was cut short when her heels landed on firm footing. Shivering, she clutched at the wall. Her fingers found purchase on an entablature of ornamental scrollwork below the building's cornice.

Josey looked up. The beast was gone, vanished like a phantom, but the silhouette of a head peered over the edge of the roof above. She cried for help, but the wind snatched the words from her mouth. Lightning split the sky, followed by an epic crash of thunder that shook the palace walls, and the head disappeared.

Eyes squeezed shut, Josey tightened her grip and prayed.

Thunder rattled the roof tiles as Caim attacked.

He had recovered one of his suetes-a small miracle-but his thoughts were on Josey, dangling below. He didn't know what she had managed to grab onto; he couldn't see five strides in front of him through the storm's gloom. Whatever it was, he didn't think her grip would hold for long. He had to finish this fast. He feinted and cut low.

Ral beat the strikes aside and countered with a jab of his slender blade, but Caim was already moving. He slashed for the head, but the bastard jumped out of range. Something else was bothering him as well. When Josey had fallen over the side of the roof, he panicked. She was going to die and it was his fault. He deserved to die with her, but when he reached the edge, time had slowed to a crawl. In that instant, the shadows had scattered and he'd felt the presence again-the same presence he had felt in the Vine and again in Josey's cellar. The sensation had jangled his nerves like a splash of ice water. He'd stopped himself as his feet started over the side, but the feeling was gone.

Caim wiped his face with his free hand. The bizarre presence might have left, but his situation had deteriorated. The shadows were gone, back to wherever they came from, and his side ached worse than ever.

Ral adopted a casual fencing stance, sword arm halfway extended, feet apart. The gleaming point of his weapon wove small circles between them as he glanced to Calm's shoulder.

"Pick up a new toy, Caim? Watch out. You might pick up a little style and ruin your reputation."

Knees bent, knife held low, Caim slunk toward his prey. "Worry about how you're going to get away."

"Get away?" Ral laughed. "This is exactly where I want to be. You and me, the winner takes all."

Caim couldn't believe the man's hubris. Ral was no slouch with the sword and as cold-blooded as any killer on the street, but even he couldn't hope to defeat Caim in a fair fight. "Do you really think you can-?"

A sudden motion cut off his words. Caim dropped flat to the rooftop as a steel sliver sailed from Ral's off-hand. The throwing blade spun over Calm's head to strike the wall behind with a metallic clink. Caim ground his teeth together, pissed at himself for forgetting Ral's penchant for dirty tricks. Ral didn't give him time to browbeat himself, but rushed in behind the throw.

Caim pushed off the wet tiles. He blocked the first thrust and spun away from the follow-up. In turning, however, his foot slipped on a loose tile. Pitched off balance, he parried a swift slash, but the impact knocked him on his back. He grunted as a tearing sensation ripped through his side. A trickle of warmth oozed down his ribs. He rolled back to his feet on the unsteady surface and scuttled sideways. All the while, Ral hounded him with cuts and jabs. Somehow during the exchange they had traded places. Now Ral backed him toward the precipice above the bailey. Caim kept low and made himself as small a target as possible. He reacted a split second too late to an attack and paid the price with a slice down his right biceps, not too deep, but it bled with a vengeance. Caim switched the knife to his left hand and responded with a riposte to create some space between them.