Tan Du stood and smirked. He could smell the justicar’s fear rolling off him like a skunk. “To talk. Like civilized people.” He gestured around him with a flourish and said, “I realize that this is not a civilized place, but I think we can rise above that.”
“Where’s my daughter?” asked Kandler.
“Ah, right to the point.” Tan Du smiled, baring his fangs. “Very direct. I like that. It’s refreshing.”
“Answer me!”
Tan Du frowned, disappointed that the justicar didn’t seem interested in sparring with him. “The girl is safe. For now. One of my associates has her. I believe you had the pleasure of meeting her earlier. She was a bit worse for wear after the encounter.”
“I want her back here right now!”
Tan Du nodded, soaking up the justicar’s rage. He loved few things more than making good men lose their temper. Irrational people were easy to manipulate. “I’m sure you do. What father wouldn’t? But I’m afraid we can’t do that.”
Kandler shook his blade at the vampire in incoherent rage.
Tan Du spread wide his hands. “If you want to blame anyone,” he said, “look at your new friends. They led us here.”
“You blame the fox for running ahead of the hounds,” Sallah said. The light from the silver flames of her sword flickered across her implacable face.
“The hunt is over now,” the vampire said. “We’re leaving. If you follow us, the girl dies.”
Burch’s crossbow twanged as Tan Du finished his sentence. The bolt shot straight for the vampire’s heart, but it ricocheted off the creature’s chest.
Tan Du knocked against his sternum with his knuckles, eliciting the same tinny response as the bolt. The armor plating he wore had held, but he knew that the shifter wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “That was your last chance,” he said to the people below. “Leave us alone, or I’ll wear that sweet little girl’s heart on a necklace.”
Before Kandler could respond, the vampire faded to mist and floated away.
Chapter 16
The lights in Mardakine’s town hall blazed over the people assembled there. To one side of the long wooden table in the center of the large, open room stood Kandler, Burch, Pradak, and Rislinto. Deothen and the other knights faced off against them from the other side. The senior knight’s white staff lay between them, its magical silver flame lending an unreal air to the scene.
Outside, Kandler could hear others dashing through the town, lending aid to the wounded and preparing the dead for burning. At the moment, he was more concerned with the living. He glanced at Pradak and saw the grief chiseled on the young man’s face.
Kandler hadn’t wanted to come back to the town. He was all for scouring the crater for tracks and heading out after the vampires right away. Burch was the best tracker in town, though, and he’d pointed out that following a flying vampire through the dark would be impossible even for him.
The justicar needed help, and he knew it. Even if he could catch up with the vampires, he still had to get Esprл from them, and that would probably mean a fight. Since he didn’t know how many they had on their side, he was ready to ask for all the help he could get.
“Your troubles are not ours,” Deothen said as he leaned over the table, his gauntlets scratching the finish as he did. “I am sorry for both you and your daughter, but we cannot compromise our mission.”
“You’re responsible for this,” Kandler said, struggling to master his temper. “Look at us! Half the town slain and most of the place in ruins.”
Deothen grimaced. “Surely you can’t lay the blame for that at our feet. You cannot hold us responsible for the actions of those who would impede our efforts.”
“You’re damned right I do. You brought this little war of yours to our doorstep. It followed in your wake. It’s your duty to make it right.” Kandler hoped that the knights would accede to his reasoning, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Deothen started to respond and then stopped. He sighed and grimaced. “I understand how you feel.”
“No, you don’t,” Kandler said, his temper rising. “How many children did you lose today?”
“Today?” Deothen snarled. “We risked the lives of every one of my knights to lend your people a hand.”
“To defend us against a threat you dropped on our doorstep.”
The senior knight threw up a hand. “I’m not finished.” Deothen waited for Kandler to acknowledge his right to speak before he continued. “In the Last War, I lost many a knight-including two of my own sons. I do sympathize with you.”
The thought of Deothen as a father put Kandler a step back, but he wasn’t ready to give in yet. “Those were grown men who rode off with you to battle. I’m talking about an innocent girl.”
“My sons sold their lives for the sake of such innocents! I put my life on the line for such innocents every day! How dare you question-”
“Hold!” Rislinto slammed his fist into the center of the table. Everyone in the room-Kandler, Burch, the knights, and Pradak-jumped. “Arguing like this doesn’t get us anywhere.”
“Agreed,” said Kandler, “and with every word those bloodsucking ticks get farther away with my daughter.”
“There’s no following them tonight,” Sallah said. She kept her tone even and reasonable. “None of us can see in the dark like they can. They’d tear us apart.”
“Your swords are torches,” Burch said.
Sallah nodded at the shifter. “True enough, but they can be as much a curse as a blessing. If we were to ride out into the darkness with those, every creature within miles would be drawn to us like moths.”
“Then we leave at first light,” Kandler said. “There’s not a better tracker than Burch within a hundred leagues.”
“And what would you do?” Deothen asked. “Charge off to certain death? Fight how many vampires? They might even have a platoon of those Karrn zombies in reserve.”
“Can you seriously tell me they held back last night?” said Kandler. He shook his finger at Deothen. That wasn’t an argument he cared to have. “Don’t answer that. I don’t care. I don’t care if there are a thousand vampires out there waiting for me. I’m going after my daughter.”
“My son,” Deothen said with the gravity of a man who’d seen too much death in his life, “think clearly. Your people need you here. Don’t throw away your life.”
Kandler screwed up his face. “This girl is the only family I have left in the world. I’ll be damned if I let her be taken from me.”
Deothen flushed with anger, but he mastered it. “Kandler, listen to me. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you must. I’ll tell you what your heart knows as true.”
Kandler stepped back from the table’s edge. “What’s that?”
“Your daughter is surely dead.”
Kandler had been about to rage back at the knight, but he stopped cold. “First, don’t call me ‘son’.” He stabbed a finger at Deothen to punctuate each word. “Second, you can rot in Khyber you ice-hearted bastard.”
Burch reached over and clapped Kandler on the back. “I’m with you, boss,” he said, “either way.”
Kandler stopped flat and turned on Burch. “What are you saying? That’s Esprл’s dead?” He heard his voice rising as he spoke, but he couldn’t seem to bring it under control.
Burch shook his head. “No. She’s alive.”
Kandler narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so sure?”
“If they’d wanted to kill her, she’d’ve been dead before they left. They went to a lot of trouble to get her out alive, then hang back to warn us not to follow. Why? I got no idea. But she’s alive.”
“What if they killed her after they left town?”
Burch shrugged. “Why take her at all then?”
“But what if they did?”
“Either way, we hunt them down and kill them. Rescue or revenge.”
Kandler smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Burch, my friend, I like the way you think.”
“Still, we should wait for dawn,” Burch said.
“Every second Esprл is out there, her life is in danger.” Kandler could feel himself getting heated up again.