Upset by the smell of blood the destriers pranced. The Barbarian grabbed them by the reins and tried to gentle them. Rik stepped to the running board of the coach, leapt up, pulled the door open and thrust his pistol in.
“Stand and deliver,” he said.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” said Tamara, every inch the picture of the frightened noblewoman. Rik was suspicious. He knew what a good actor she was.
“If you do what you are told, Milady, you won’t be hurt. Step out of the coach.”
Tamara nodded and moved towards him. She seemed clumsy in her thick skirts, and appeared to stumble. He had been expecting something like this but even so the speed and ferocity of her blow almost took him by surprise. Fingers spread wide, nails like talons, she lashed out at his face. Even prepared as he was, he had barely time to avoid the strike, leaping backwards from the running board into the street. He could feel the wound she had given him sting.
“That was most unwise, Milady,” he said.
“I don’t think so, Rik,” she said. “You see my coachmen gave me time to prepare for you. There is poison on my nails.”
Rik was not surprised that she knew who he was. Tamara was observant and she was a mistress of disguise. He doubted she would have any difficulty seeing through his ruse.
“Really,” he said. Was the wound tingling? Did he feel a little dizzy? “Will your nails stop a bullet?”
“Cosmetics are a good way of hiding drugs,” she said conversationally. “Face powders can contain many interesting alchemicals. Just be grateful I don’t want you dead. There are still things we need to discuss.”
He noticed there were needles in her hand now, long ones, that looked like crocheting hooks but which he guessed were a lot sharper. Even in the bad light he could tell there was a white powder on them as well. Perhaps she was serious. And perhaps they had made a serious mistake. She was not defending herself with sorcery. She was prepared to use something else.
“Having some trouble with a chit of girl, Halfbreed,” said the Barbarian. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
He moved in front of Rik, an action for which one second later he was profoundly glad. He heard the Barbarian grunt in surprise. Rik stepped to one side to get a clearer shot and saw that the big man and the Terrarch noble were exchanging blows with eye blurring speed. The Barbarian was awesomely fast and strong and yet Tamara appeared to have him on the defensive. A less skilled close combat fighter would have already been impaled on the poisoned needles.
He raised the pistol. His fingers felt numb. Tamara noticed his action and threw one of the needles at him. It buried itself in his arm. The pain put him off his shot and the truesilver bullet tore through the night above her head. Smiling she turned and gestured with her fingers. Lights exploded in the air in front of the Barbarian’s face. Somehow he managed to avoid having the needle stab through his jugular vein. Instead it buried itself in his neck.
“Bitch,” he grunted. Tamara withdrew the needle and stepped back for a moment. She paused as if listening to something. There was a roar from the middle distance. Somehow warned she almost managed to avoid the shot. It took her in the shoulder, spun her around and sent her collapsing to the ground.
Rik shook his head and tried to gather his wits. Weasel had opened fire, he realised, as the numbness moved up his arm and through his forehead. He had definitely been poisoned. His arm hung limply by his side. There was not a lot he could do. Tamara was moving again, starting to pick herself up. He reeled over to her and aimed a kick. She blocked the blow with her left hand and despite the heavy dress dragging in the wet managed to rotate her body below him and kick his leg. He dropped to the ground, even as she rose, turning her head. Rik looked in the direction she did and saw Weasel raise his long-barrelled rifle once more. Tamara sprang into the mouth of the alley. Blood dripped from the wound in her shoulder.
Weasel came running up and looked at the two of them. “This is not going too well,” he said.
“Do tell,” said the Barbarian. “Would never have noticed if you had not told me.” His voice was slurred and weakening. Weasel bent and touched the ground. His fingers came up red. He touched them to his lips and then looked at the trail of blood.
“Look after the big man,” he said to Rik. “I’ll get the girl. She can’t have gone far and she’s bleeding like a stuck pig.”
Somehow Rik got across and managed to tie a bandage over the wound in the Barbarian’s neck. A moment later, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and the oddest sensation flowed through his mind. He thought he felt something coming from the back of the alley. He heard a shrieking, tearing noise that he was sure was not audible to anybody else. Sorcery, he thought.
Weasel was gone for so long that Rik was starting to worry. Eventually he came back out of the alley.
“Did you get her?” he asked. Weasel shook his head.
“Damnedest thing,” he said. “The alley is a dead end. Nothing there but a wall and trash pile.. It’s like she’s vanished into the thin air. All I could see was a patch of shadows, that crawled and gave me the creeps.”
If it was enough to frighten Weasel it must be really something. Rik tried to fight the dizziness and reeled to his feet. “Best show me it,” he said.
“Are you mad? We’d best get out of here before the law comes. This has been hanging work tonight, if we’re caught for it.”
“No, I want to see.” Rik staggered down to the end of the alley and saw at once what Weasel meant. There was something at the end of the alley, a patch of shadow that whispered and shimmered. At first he thought it was a side-effect of the poison but something about it set his teeth on edge. He recognised this thing at the very core of his being, even if he was not sure what it was.
He reached out and touched it. His fingers tingled and vanished. His fingertips felt very cold. He withdrew them to make sure they were all right.
The thing continued to fade until there was no longer even a whisper of its presence. What was going on here, he wondered? Then a wave of dizziness swept over him, and he tumbled forward into darkness.
Chapter Sixteen
Rik looked up at Asea. For a moment he had no idea where he was. Had he exhausted himself performing mystical spells again? Then memory of the fight with Tamara came back to him. He looked around and saw that he was in his own chambers in the mansion.
“What happened?” he asked. “How did I get here?”
Asea’s face has a tight quality to it. It took him a moment to realise that she was barely containing her rage. He had never seen her this way before. He forced himself to be calm.
“Weasel brought you and the big man back. On the cart. He told me his version of what happened. Why don’t you tell me yours? Tamara escaped?”
There was no denying it or defending it. “She was a lot tougher than we expected. Faster too. She poisoned me and the Barbarian. Why am I not dead, by the way?”
“The poison she used was not intended to kill you, merely slow you and weaken you until you fell unconscious. Perhaps that is why she seemed so fast and strong.”
Rik shook his head. “She was moving swiftly before she struck me. That was not the effect of any poison, I am sure.”
“Go on.” There was more than rage there, he realised. There was excitement too. Asea was like a hound that had caught a scent and was ready for the chase.
“She almost managed to dodge a shot fired by Weasel, and I am sure she did not manage to poison him.”
“So he told me.” Rik felt a reaction set in. He could have died this last evening. Most probably would have if Tamara really wanted him dead.