Guardian of the Night

21

Kaluun appeared strangely mollified by the appearance of the girl, her eyes searching everywhere, looking for more of the Ganshorn guards, but none came. No servants were in sight, which Bilain would have expected considering Kaluun's attack. The entire house, as large as it was, felt empty and silent. Bilain stepped toward the girl and she scurried backward, her wide eyes falling to the spear in Bilain's hand.

"I will not hurt you, child, but your grandfather must answer for his crimes." Even though the girl feared the spear, Bilain did not put it aside. She held out a hand to the girl. "We will not harm him, but he is the cause of great woe within the city."

"Not my Grandpapa! No! Never!" With a skip, the girl returned to her feet, dashing back into the room she had emerged from, leaving Bilain alone with Kaluun.

To the side, Kaluun allowed the shadows crawling about her to fade, leaving only her lower face covered. Bilain had no words for the woman after she had broken their pact, but if she tried to harm the child, Bilain would kill her or die in the attempt. She could not allow this slaughter to go unanswered, but she had other things on her mind. Only Vasztur Ganshorn could put a stop to the attack upon The Sprawl.

Through the door the child had run through, Bilain could see light and before Kaluun could head that way, she stood before her. In the woman's eyes, Bilain could see confusion. Whether because she now saw the results of her crusade of brutality, or because the girl reminded her of the scared child she once was, Bilain couldn't say. For the moment, however, Kaluun did not look as though she would continue her attack.

Still distrusting the woman, Bilain turned her back nonetheless. She didn't know what lay beyond the door the girl had run through, but if Vasztur was inside, she needed to take him into custody, no matter how ill he was. She pushed the door open and looked inside to see a forest of candles awaiting her.

From thick, tall columns, to melted stubs. From thin, long fingers, to small cups of wax and wicks. Every surface held a number of candles, the heat washing over Bilain as she stepped inside and, in the centre of the room, a large bed held the emaciated form of the man she had seen all those years before, little like how she remembered him, and as frail as anyone she had ever seen.

His eyes had sunken deep into his skull, cheeks pinched and hollow. His skin had a sallow tinge to it, like aged paper. Crisp and brittle. His hand, held in both the child's, looked like a claw, the flesh all but gone, leaving only a liver-spotted covering of skin. Those eyes turned to Bilain as she entered, but they had none of the intensity they once held.

"Vasztur Ganshorn?" She asked, though she knew it was he. She stepped closer, the girl stiffening as she approached, and stopped feet from the bed. "Why? Why would you do this in your final days? Are you so petty? So malignant that you would take The Sprawl with you to the darkness?"

Vasztur took a long, rattling breath, his sunken chest rising in fits and starts before falling again, the bed covers moulding to his pitiful body. Thin, straggling strands of hair fell upon the pillow as he attempted to shake his head until he could try no more. The girl scowled at Bilain, the tears gone as though she had never cried at all.

"You are Grasall. I ... I forget no-one." He began to cough and the child raced to a nearby table to fetch a cup of water, holding it to her grandfather's lips. "Soldier, once, Watch member now. I once made it a priority to know everyone of interest. I had expected more of you."

"I don't care what you, or anyone, expects of me. I care about justice." Only now did Bilain realise Kaluun had entered the room, standing near the door, the shadows across her face battling against the light of the candles. "For what you have done to The Sprawl, all the dead left in your wake, I hope what ails you is painful."