He scowled. Jhesrhi could likely have opened the lock without breaking it. Gaedynn might have found a way as well. Both were better suited to spying than their commander, which was why Aoth had sent them into Threskel. But he regretted their absence now.
Well, he’d just have to proceed as best he could. He slipped the point of his spear into the crack above the latch, then pried, releasing a bit of the power stored inside the weapon to make the action more forceful. The grille lurched open with a snap.
He swung it shut again behind him. With luck, no one would notice the damage before morning at the earliest. He climbed down the remaining steps.
Which put him in a musty-smelling room with brick walls and a few old boxes scattered around. He stalked through an arch into a second rectangular space like the first.
Another grille separated the second room from a third. On the other side were coffers, jars, urns, and icons, some of the latter depictions of the Morninglord and thus no longer suitable for veneration. The wealth of the temple, locked away for safekeeping.
Aoth broke open the new barrier and explored the repository. No matter how intently he peered at the contents, and at the ceiling, walls, and floor, he still couldn’t find any trace of what he sought. And there was nowhere else to look, not down here anyway.
Warm golden light bloomed at his back. As he pivoted toward the doorway, it brightened. By the time he faced it, it was like looking directly at the sun.
Unfortunately, glare was one thing that could still impair his vision. Shielding his eyes with one hand, he leveled the spear with the other. “Stop what you’re doing. I don’t have to see you to hurt you.”
“I vouched for you,” Cera said, from inside the dazzling light or beyond it. “I told everyone you were honorable and came here to protect us. And you get up out of my bed and slink down here to steal Amaunator’s treasure!”
He wondered if she truly believed that. “You’re wrong. That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then drop your spear and surrender, and afterward we’ll sort it out.”
“I can’t do that.” She might kill him once she had him disarmed.
“Then this is your own fault.”
The blaze in the doorway seemed to leap at him, engulf him, and pain seared him. He willed a tattoo to life, and its enchantment dulled the agony. Maybe it even kept him from bursting into flame.
He growled a word of power, and a thunderclap boomed through the cellar. Hoping it had at least staggered Cera, he charged the doorway. And slammed into the grille. He’d left it open, so the priestess must have closed it and the glare kept him from noticing.
He rebounded and fell on his rump. The grille squeaked on its hinges and clanked against the wall. Footsteps pattered in his direction.
Cera evidently hoped the impact had left him dazed or disoriented, but though his head throbbed, it hadn’t. He could judge where she was, and he raised the spear to spit her. Then he flung himself to the side instead. Something, likely her golden mace, banged against the floor.
He scrambled, turned, and then he was facing her with his back to the glare. He was still half blind with floating smears of afterimage, but at least he could make out her silhouette and see that she had indeed armed herself with her mace and targe.
As he sprang to his feet, he feinted at her face with the spear. The round shield jerked up to block in a way that more or less blinded her. She was resourceful and commanded potent magic, but she was no expert at hand-to-hand combat.
He reversed the spear and swept her feet out from under her with the blunt end. She thumped down on the floor. He spun the weapon again and touched the point to her throat.
“Let go of the mace and shield,” he said.
She did.
“Now push them away.”
The articles scraped along the floor.
“Now put out the light in the doorway.”
She blinked. “I won’t be able to see.”
“That’s all right. I will.”
The glare went out.
“This isn’t over,” she said.
“It is if I kill you and nobody finds out who did it.”
Her voice quavered, but only a little. “Is that what you’re going to do?”
He sighed and rubbed the sore spot on his forehead. “I don’t know yet. I’m poking around down here because I don’t know much of anything. And at first that was fine with me. I figured, let the nobles have their secrets and conspiracies. Let them plunge the whole East into war, for any stupid reason or none at all. From a sellsword’s perspective, nothing could be better.”
“But after two attempts on your life, you changed your mind.”
“Basically. Like I told you, assassination is just a move in the game we soldiers play. But dragonborn assassins, in a town where there have never been any dragonborn? And a special kind of dragonborn at that? It’s just too odd. Even leaving my own safety out of it, it shows there’s too much going on that I don’t understand. And that could lead to problems on the battlefield.”
She frowned, evidently mulling over what he’d said, then asked, “Given the magic they use, couldn’t the dragonborn have sneaked into the city from outside?”
“Maybe,” said Aoth, “but from where outside? Threskel? As far as we know, there aren’t any there either. All the way from Tymanther? And why are the damn reptiles targeting me anyway? I’m a good soldier, but not all that important. By the Hells, if you heard how I broke my contract with Aglarond, marched into Thay, took heavy losses, and retreated without seeming to accomplish anything-and then suffered another defeat in Impiltur-you might not even realize I am good.”
“It’s a puzzle,” she said, “but what prompted you to look for answers in my temple’s cellars?”
“I’m working on the assumption that unlikely as it sounds, someone in Soolabax is hiding the dragonborn and aiding them in general. Now, who was surprisingly friendly and flirtatious with me from the start?”
“I was, but not to deflect suspicion or trick you into lowering your guard. Because you intrigued me. I grew up in Luthcheq, not a sleepy farm town. I’ve come to like the people who live here, but to be honest, they often bore me too. And you were an exotic stranger who’d consorted with kings and archmages and fought his way across the world.”
“When you took me for that stroll on the battlements, it gave the first assassin a chance to weaken the steps. And when I stopped short, you bumped me from behind. It almost pitched me forward and made me fall.”
“But only almost, because I wasn’t trying. And as for the other, well, it wasn’t the first time you’d climbed to the top of the gate to look out over the countryside. The dragonborn just lurked nearby and waited for his chance.”
“Well, he and his friends got a second chance when you hosted the feast and then drew me out into the garden. You even held me down so I wouldn’t see them coming. And then, after I sent you for help, you and the other sunlords didn’t make it back till the fight was over.”
“Because Jet arrived to help you, and then the two of you finished it quickly. And as for the rest, I swear by the Yellow Sun it was only coincidence or the reptiles watching and waiting for their chance. The banquet was no more a secret than your visits to the gate.”
“No matter what you say, it doesn’t change the fact that the dragonborn have come at me twice, and you’ve been there both times.”
“And if I’d used my magic against you, they would have killed you for certain.”
“Not for certain. And if I survived, I would have known you for my enemy.”
She scowled. “Listen, idiot. I’m a priestess of the lord of Eternal Sun. One of the supreme powers of righteousness. I wouldn’t do something treacherous and evil.”
“You might if you thought it served a greater good. Like your superior believes it’s his duty to persecute wizards and lay curses on marchers in the street.”