"Rusk said to test him," said Karnek. His tone changed from defiant to defensive.
He surrendered his own tunic to Brigid, who folded it before pressing it against Ronan's abdomen. Ronan gasped.
"He said 'take his measure,' " said Darrow, "not provoke him into eviscerating you."
"What were we supposed to learn by watching him strut about and play at fighting?" Brigid had lost none of her anger, but she sounded uncertain.
"Keep your voice down," hissed Sorcia, watching the alley entrance.
"Don't tell me what to do, bitch," said Brigid.
The big blonde woman was almost twice the size of the pale elf. Darrow had little doubt of which one would win in a straight fight.
"Stop it, both of you," he said. "What's important is to get back without being seen. The last thing we need is to cross Lord Malveen."
"I'm not afraid of Malveen," said Karnek.
He had never even seen the strange vampire whose home they claimed as their lair in the city. Rusk planned to face him after sunset, which was soon approaching. The rest of the pack awaited their return in the abandoned warehouse.
"Then you're more stupid than I thought," said Darrow.
When darkness came, they crept out of the alley. Ronan was too weak to walk, but his bleeding had subsided. The trauma left him muttering and confused, but he might survive the night if Rusk could heal him in time. They kept to side streets when possible, but Darrow abandoned stealth for the broader avenues when traffic seemed light. When passing other pedestrians was unavoidable, Darrow raised his voice in slurred song, hoping observers would mistake them for a group of drunks carrying their friend home. It was a thin ruse, but Karnek joined him in it, and at least Brigid stopped complaining until they reached the warehouse district. There they fell silent and crept through the shadows until they reached House Malveen.
The looming edifice was much as Darrow remembered it. The shape of the piled cargo had changed, but there was still so much that the inner court was completely obscured from the street. They wound their way through the narrow alleys of crates and barrels to the main building.
Inside, the rest of the pack awaited them.
"Where's Rusk?" demanded Brigid. Beside her, Karnek carried the unconscious Ronan in his arms.
Several fingers pointed to the west door. Only Darrow had been beyond it, and even he had been forbidden to enter. Rusk did not want the rest of the pack within the bounds of Stannis's wards.
"We have to wait," said Sorcia.
"He'll die," protested Brigid.
"Then he dies," said Sorcia. "He did it to himself."
"I'll go," said Darrow. "Lord Malveen's minions might let me pass."
"And if they don't?" asked Sorcia.
"Then I'll have to kill them, won't I?"
Sorcia was unimpressed by his bravado, but Brigid and Karnek both gave him a long look. He saw something resembling respect in their eyes.
Darrow did not tell them that he was betting Stannis had not changed the wards that allowed his servant access. Even if Rusk told the vampire that Darrow still lived, Lord Malveen would hardly consider Darrow a threat worth refreshing the wards for.
At least, that was his gamble. He walked through the door to the River Hall before he could change his mind.
To his relief, Darrow set off no wards while passing into the outer reaches of the River Hall, but Stannis had not left the door unattended. Two dark figures crawled down from the ceiling, where they had been lurking in the shadows. One hissed at him.
"I bring tidings for Lord Malveen," said Darrow.
He hoped the monsters recognized him and assumed he was still one of the master's servants. The vampire spawn stared at him through slitted eyes, but they slunk back toward the promenade. Darrow followed. Soon he heard Rusk's low voice and the familiar, breathless sound of Stannis Malveen. Their conversation paused when they heard him approach. Darrow joined them at the end of the grand pool.
"What a pleasant surprise!" cooed Stannis.
The vampire had not changed in the year since Darrow left his service, though there were a few new additions to the furnishings in the River Hall. Stannis draped himself in a damp crimson cloak the size of a tapestry, and he reclined on a new, larger fainting couch whose legs bowed under his weight.
Stannis rolled onto his back and pressed his rubbery fingers together. The tip of his brown-black tail switched back and forth.
"My brother let me believe you met with an unfortunate accident when you escorted him to the Arch Wood last spring."
"It was no accident, my lord," said Darrow with a bow. Such gestures made it easier for him to disguise his revulsion at his former master's appearance.
"However have you kept such splendid manners while living amongst the beasts, my dear boy?"
Stannis dipped a hand into a large basin beside the couch and withdrew a writhing sea worm. He slipped it through his veil of golden chains. With an awful sucking sound, the worm vanished like a pink tongue.
In the past year, Darrow had done many things that would have horrified him before. Still, Stannis made his blood run co,ld.
"Where are my manners?" Stannis said. "Here I am, basking in the pleasure of your company when I am not the only one who would enjoy it. I believe another of our guests would be most eager to see you again, my courteous boy. You recall Maelin?"
"I thought…"
Darrow only now realized how much he had hoped against reason that she was still alive. The sudden joy was muddied by the realization that she remained a captive. The guilt Darrow felt at leaving her behind returned as an overwhelming pressure on his chest. Again his emotions shifted, and a frail hope occurred to him. If he could free her, perhaps he would deserve freedom also.
"I mean," Darrow continued, "I presumed she was meant to be one of your brother's sparring partners."
"Oh, yes," said Stannis, "she was indeed. But after he was so careless with my favorite servant, I decided to keep her for myself. Petty of me, I know, but Radu must be reminded that he is not the only one who can be cruel. Besides, I knew she might prove useful once again, as your new master's return proves."
"That's what I wish to discuss," said Rusk.
"As well as the matter of my permission for your 'People' to lair within my property," said Stannis. His tone indicated he did not take the uninvited arrival of more than a dozen werewolves lightly.
"You were the one who sent-" began Rusk.
"Of course, Lord Malveen," interrupted Darrow. He made his apology to Rusk with a quick glance. "We did not wish to disturb you during the day, yet we also did not wish to draw attention to your home. So we took shelter where you were so gracious as to house our Huntmaster last year, counting on your generosity to forgive our presumption."
"You haven't been in the woods all this time, have you? I think you spent the winter at court in Ordulin, practicing your courtesies for all the fine ladies." Stannis waved toward a cabinet, and one of his spawn emerged from the shadows to fetch a decanter and goblets.
"What happened at the playhouse?" asked Rusk at last.
"Ronan is hurt and needs your help," said Barrow.
Rusk glowered at him, awaiting an explanation. Darrow decided to leave the details for the others to explain.
Rusk rose ominously from his chair to tower over Darrow. "Where is the Black Wolf?"
Darrow realized his mistake at once. He should never have returned without locating Talbot Uskevren after the fight.
"The Scepters were summoned," said Darrow. "He was probably arrested."
A vein pulsed in the center of Rusk's brow. "Find him."