Stoneweaver - Chapter 11

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The drink had outlasted the rain, so Danath had taken a long route home, giving him time to sober up. He'd reported his lack of success to Elgren, to a predictably disappointed response, and gotten away before he could be assigned a role in the ongoing searches. It seemed both their targets remained at large.

Thortus had another meeting with Narvon's ambassador, but Danath didn't really feel like being around him given what his temperament would likely be by now. His role didn't really include bodyguard, anyway. As champion he could add a hint of intimidation to Thortus' presence, but he didn't have to constantly accompany him.

Having a room at Thortus' place was mainly an image thing, a warning that he was available to protect his boss at any moment. And Danath was happy to have a comfortable place with the most expensive furnishings, and cleaning service included. With a separate entrance, he barely had to encounter Thortus' wife or children, although hearing the little terrors screaming around the place was unavoidable. And knowing Thortus' mother had the suite directly below his left him feeling slightly awkward at times, but thankfully the old battleaxe was stone deaf. Still it was probably the nicest place he could find in the city without spending too much.

The clouds having retreated before the advances of a burning sun, and the prospect of Syssarra waiting for him, or arriving soon, raised his spirits, and he vaulted up the private stairs to his apartment, and danced in the door.

His euphoria lasted as long as it took him to spot Syssarra. The spatters of blood weren't much, but stood out in stark contrast to the white sheets she lay sprawled upon, eyes wide. His mind wouldn't accept what his eyes showed it, so he stumbled over to try waking her, shaking her with increasing ferocity.

She didn't respond. She just hung limply in his hands, and fell back as they released their grip, his eyes seeing the blood now staining them.

Her eyes stared beyond him, as he finally managed to look at them, the reality of the scene crashing down on him.

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