Twilight's End

Part 8 - Revelations

The endless gloaming pressed against the large windows set high up in the warehouse's walls, draping the jumbled bales of cotton below in shadow and turning the interior into a ruined cityscape. Vessa waited, leaning against a listing tower and watching the huge double doors, as she had just a few days ago when her life had been markedly less complicated. Her task then had been to make sure the longshoremen dragging the bales inside didn't "lose" any of the valuable cotton as they worked; her task now was to negotiate the return of the sun to the sky. Vessa sighed and shook her head, wondering how events had led her to this.

Would Malz come? The thought that a Vigilant of Malakesh would answer a summons to meet in a warehouse at the docks seemed preposterous, but in her note she had claimed to have discovered some vital information about what was afflicting Malakesh. Surely he couldn't ignore that, even though she suspected he knew far more than she did about what was really transpiring.

Vessa glanced up, trying to catch some glimpse of Del among the rafters, but her partner had hidden himself well. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to reveal himself later.

She tensed as the scrape of metal came from outside. The heavy doors shivered, then swung slowly inwards, pushed open by a pair of guardsmen wearing the duke's livery. Both carried lanterns hung from night watchmen poles. Malz followed behind them, limping, surrounded by another five warriors, who seemed to move almost in lockstep as they paced the Vigilant.

Interesting. From their spiked helms and black cloaks, these were members of the Hounds, the duke's personal guard. By bringing them to this meeting Malz was making a statement that he had the support of Malakesh's ruler in these matters.

"Vessa!" the Vigilant cried out when he saw her, motioning for the knot of warriors to halt. "I appreciate the sea air, but I thought I told you to come see me in Stonespear when you found your partner." Malz made a show of peering into the shadows. "And where is Del Amoth, might I ask?"

"He's here," said Vessa, pushing herself from the bales.

"Ah," the Vigilant said with a conspiratorial grin. "He's watching us from somewhere with a crossbow, yes? Really, Vessa, you should be more trusting."

"It's true I don't trust you, but he's out there because the other folk I've invited are more dangerous than you."

A flicker of uncertainty passed across Malz's face. "Other folk?"

Footsteps, ringing out so loud that they could only be meant as a warning for others. There was also muffled sobbing that made the back of Vessa's neck tingle and her hands grow cold. She knew that voice. And . . . whistling? Yes, someone was whistling a jaunty children's tune as they approached through the maze of cotton bales.

She saw the eyes first, flashing golden from the light of the guard's lanterns. Malz hissed something under his breath, and Vessa thought she saw his face harden slightly.

The Lost Men entered the light. The Aliva who had called himself Wraith was first, flanked by a pair of tall, gangly youths who looked to be brothers. One wore a cocky smile, and the other was the whistler. Both twirled long-handled axes, as if they were wandering through a forest searching for trees to cut down. Behind them came a few less-imposing individuals: two men, one fat and one thin, each wearing white robes banded by gold, which marked them as priests of Aradeth. Vessa's breath caught in her throat when she saw Carine shuffling along beside them, her hands bound in front of her and her head bowed so that her red curls obscured her face. Anger rose in Vessa, but she tamped it down. She needed all her wits about her.

"Greetings, Vigilant," murmured the Aliva, inclining his head towards the guardsmen.

"Wraith," Malz replied curtly.