As she hurried into her clothes, Linsha looked curiously at Shanron. “How was it you came with Varia?” she asked.
Shanron glanced at the owl and laughed. “That bird nearly scared the wits out of me.”
Varia shrugged her wings. “I was a bit abrupt.”
“Abrupt! I was in the hayloft giving the cat a midnight snack when out of nowhere this hysterical owl dropped like a missile into the hay and started screeching something about helping you. Well, the cat ran like a fiend, and I nearly bolted up the rafters. I’ve never had an owl yell at me. What kind of an owl is this, anyway?”
“I was not yelling. I was trying to make you listen.” Varia hopped off the headboard and walked deliberately over the bed to Linsha’s side. “You scared me. I did not know you could summon me like that.”
Linsha gave her boot a last tug, then gently scratched the owl’s neck. “Neither did I,” she said softly. She clasped Shanron’s arm with painful urgency. “Thank you, both of you. I’m afraid I still need you. Something evil is going to happen, and soon. That packet you gave me warned that the Dark Knights would attack the city when the volcano erupts. I think we’d better find Lord Bight.”
Varia bobbed her head. “You were right about the ships. There is a fleet gathering at the mouth of the bay. They’re decked out like pirate ships, but if those are pirates, I’m a pigeon.”
Linsha held out her forearm for the owl to ride, and the three left the apartment, closing the door firmly behind them. Night still ruled the streets of Sanction, and all was deathly quiet. The moon had risen, casting its waxing light on the world below.
“Do you know where Lord Bight is?” Linsha asked Shanron as they hurried through the dark streets.
Shanron thought a moment, then answered, “No. I just got off duty an hour ago. He may be at the palace, but I’m not sure.”
“We’ll try there first. They’ll know where he is.”
The two women walked faster, past the bazaar and onto the road that led toward the two hills. Varia flew ahead from trees and rooftops and kept a close watch on the road ahead and behind. They left the streets and the big houses behind and entered the wooded strip of road leading up to the palace. The moonlight was dim there, little more than speckled patches of quicksilver on the path. The woods thinned, and Linsha and Shanron could see the torches on the walls of the palace flicker through the trees ahead.
Out of the shadows in front of them, they heard Varia’s blood-chilling screech of anger. The scream shocked them both and sent their hearts racing. Linsha reached for her sword and grabbed only her belt.
“What was that?” Shanron exclaimed.
Without answering, Linsha hurried off the road to a small clearing nearly lost in the night-dark shadows under the trees. Varia screeched again: “On the ground in front of you.”
Linsha’s foot snagged on something solid and heavy that tripped her forward. She caught herself on a sapling before she fell, sprawling, and dropped down beside the thing. Her hands reached out, touched fabric, leather, and something warm and wet. She couldn’t see who it was in the thick darkness.
“What is it?” Shanron hissed. She groped across the uneven ground to come up beside her.
“Not what. Who!”
“Oh, no,” mourned the guardswoman. “Not again.”
A voice, barely above a whisper, spoke out of the darkness. “Alley Cat?”
“Mica?” Linsha cried out. Shaken, she touched his face and felt his bearded jaw. “Mica, oh, gods of all. Hold still. Let me help.”
“No time,” he groaned. “Too late. No strength left to heal.” His words came out forced and so hoarse she could barely understand him.
“No, I can-”
But he didn’t hear her. His hand groped out and she took it, pressing it tightly in her hers. His skin was surprisingly cold.
“Listen,” he struggled to say. “Captain Southack told me. Ship captured by… Dark Knights. Crew deliberately poisoned… arcane magic spell. Passed by touch of skin on skin. Need-” He broke off in a long racking spasm.
“Mica, please,” Linsha begged. “Let me-”
His hand tightened around hers. “Need old magic to cure.
Find dragon.” His words grew more labored.
“Who did this to you?” Shanron asked.
Mica waited so long to answer that the women almost despaired. Then he gathered the strength from somewhere and managed to find an answer. “Skull Knight. Careful, Alley Cat. He plans to kill… Lord Bight at volcano… then signal ships. Stop him.”
Linsha sat back on her heels. She understood now. Her eyes hurt with tears unshed as she stroked his cheek. “It’s all right, Mica, you can rest. Thank you. I’ll take care of it,” she said, quiet and reassuring.
Her fingers felt his lips move in a slight smile. “Not bad… for a Knight,” he whispered.
She sensed his mind gradually fading until there was only emptiness. The tears slid down her cheek unheeded. Varia keened above his head.
Shanron shuddered at the sound. “Is he dead?”
“He was already dead. Only the vestiges of his mystic power kept his spirit here long enough for someone to find him.” She looked up at her friend and said as a tribute, “He was a Legionnaire.”
Shanron flung herself to her feet, propelled by driving emotion. “That’s enough! I’m up to my breastplate in whatever this mess is, so will you please tell me what is going on? What do you mean, he’s a Legionnaire? Who is Captain Southack? Who is the Skull Knight? Why would anyone kill Mica?”
“Have you got a light?”
The reasonable question took Shanron by surprise and quieted her barrage of questions for a moment while she thought. Then she pulled a flint and steel out of her pocket and dropped them in Linsha’s hand.
Using the tools and a pile of tinder, Linsha was able to light a tiny fire and put together a makeshift torch. Shanron watched in silent speculation.
With the feeble light, Linsha was able to see Mica more clearly and examine the dampness on his chest. She felt sick. “Not much blood,” she pointed out, opening his leather vest.
“Look. He’s been stabbed twice, just like Captain Dewald. Probably the same weapon.”
“Probably the same man.”
Linsha nodded. “Your captain was selling information to the Knights of Solamnia and got too close to this Skull Knight. Just like Mica.” She jerked his vest closed again, her grief and dismay plain in her voice. “Captain Southack was the captain of the Palanthian ship that brought the plague. My guess is, Mica used spiritual mysticism to summon the captain’s spirit, and he asked for information that wasn’t in the ship’s log. The Dark Knight must have ambushed him on the road to the palace.”
Shanron ground her heel into the dry grass and earth. “So who is this Skull Knight?” she insisted.
“I don’t know. All Captain Dewald knew was that he was in the guards.” Small tendrils of dread curled up her back.
“Poor Alphonse. He really went in over his head,” Shanron said mournfully. “So why did he give the packet to you, and what did Mica mean when he said, ‘Not bad for a Knight’? Who are you?”
Linsha knew revealing her covert status as a Knight with the order was a violation of her vows, but at that moment, she didn’t hesitate. Shanron was a friend and an ally and had already heard enough to put it together anyway. “I am a Knight in the Solamnic Order. I took the position of guard to monitor Lord Bight’s activities.” She leaned forward to look her friend in the eye. “But things have gone horribly wrong. Shanron, now I fear the lord governor is in danger, and I need someone I can trust to help me.”