Empire of Night (Age of Legends 2)

"You deign to help me now?" she muttered. "About time."

A second spirit answered, Impatient child.

Impertinent, a third spirit sniffed.

Moria glowered. What good did it do to hear the dead if they would not even help when you were trapped in the enemy camp? Ashyn would point out that there hadn't been a way to help until now, but Moria was in no mood to be charitable.

Shhh, child. It was the first spirit again. Heed me.

Heed only me--that's what it meant. Moria focused on the first spirit and ignored the mutterings and mumblings of the other two.

This way.

Moria followed the first spirit's whispers back down the hall, then along another one. She ended up near where she'd been heading, but approaching from the opposite side. When she peeked around the corner, she could see a single warrior guard, shuffling and grunting with boredom. Wide-awake and alert, though. Looking for trouble. Hoping for it, to break the monotony.

Blast it.

The exit door was right there. Once through it, she'd be outside, on the north end of the compound. All she had to do was get past one guard.

She fingered her dagger and peered out again. She could throw it from here and catch him in the neck.

And raise a commotion that would bring every other guard running.

Was that truly what stayed her hand? A fortnight ago, she'd never have considered hurting an innocent man, possibly killing him. Now . . . ? There was still hesitation, but how much of it was reluctance and how much was simple concern that the ploy would fail?

It was only three paces to the door. If she could distract the guard . . .

She reached under her gown. All she carried with her were the dagger and the wildcat figurine. There was little question of which she should use, but still she hesitated. She clutched the figurine. To lose it felt like losing Daigo himself again, and her chest seized at the thought.

Yes, child, the spirit whispered. You must.

She braced herself, then she took aim and pitched the figurine as far as she could down the hall, letting it bounce off the distant wall.

The guard jumped. He looked around. Then he started toward the object on the floor, pulled by his boredom and curiosity. Moria slipped from her hidin

g place, crossed the three paces to the door, eased it open, and escaped.

FORTY-THREE

Moria made her way across the north end of the compound. It was not protected, but she'd been out here often enough to know that the guards had their routes and their favored stopping places. Avoid those and she was fine. Or she would be after she shucked the dress. She didn't strip all the way down to her shift. That was white, meaning she'd streak across the night like a comet. She went to the third last layer--a dark green silk. Then she took one of the dark, discarded layers and tore it into a long strip to wrap over her bright hair.

Dagger in hand, she made her way toward the north wall. Scaling it wouldn't be an issue. According to Brom, the compound itself was an abandoned military training camp. They'd cleaned it up, but what it lacked was a proper fence. So far they'd encircled it with a makeshift barrier of wood, no taller than a man's head.

She headed toward that wall, taking a circuitous route to avoid the guards. The ancestors continued to favor her, perhaps deciding she'd suffered quite enough punishment for any past offenses. Finally, she was close enough to see the wall. Then she heard a noise. Footsteps. Running. She froze and swung around, her back pressing against the nearest building. She'd barely gone still when a figure stepped between the buildings. A figure with dark braids and tattoos on his forearms.

Gavril had his back to her as he moved from one building to the next. He did glance her way, but only briefly, as if he expected to see someone running in her dress, light hair flowing behind her, an easy target to spot. When he looked away again, she gripped her dagger and lifted it.

She could throw it at his back. He wore no armor. She could injure him, badly. She might even be able to kill him.

Instead, she pressed herself against the building and waited for him to pass. He stopped on the other side of the passage. Moria held her breath. He took one more careful look around before putting out his hand and saying something, and as he spoke, his fingers began to glow with an unearthly light.

His fingers lit the passage as well as any lantern, and as he turned her way again, the light turned with him, and she knew it didn't matter how dark her dress was or how deep the shadows. His gaze lit upon her, and she clenched her dagger, ready for him to pull his blade and run at her.

Instead, he exhaled, the sound sliding through the silence.

"I've found you," he said.

"And you will un-find me," Moria said, raising her dagger. "You will walk away or I will throw this. You know I will."