'It seems,' the assassin murmured dryly, 'you've prepared for this.' Oh, haven't you just.
After a moment she went on. 'So, if Dassem Ultor was sitting here right now, instead of me – tell me, Kalam, do you think he would have let you get this close? Do you think he would have sought to reason with you?' She was silent for a few more breaths, then continued, 'It seems clear that my efforts to disguise the direction of my voice have failed, for you face me directly. Three, perhaps four strides, Kalam, and you can end the reign of Empress Laseen. What do you choose?'
Smiling, Kalam shifted the grip of the knife in his right hand. Very well, I'll play along. 'Seven Cities—'
'Will be answered in kind,' she snapped.
Despite himself, the assassin's eyes widened at the anger he heard there. Well, what do you know! Empress, you did not need your illusions after all. Thus, the hunt ends here. He sheathed the knife.
And smiled in admiration when she gasped.
'Empress,' he rumbled.
'I – I admit to some confusion...'
I'd not thought acting one of your fortes, Laseen . . . 'You could have begged for your life. You could have given more reasons, made more justifications. Instead, you spoke, not with your voice, but with an empire's.' He turned away. 'Your hiding place is safe. I will leave your ... presence—'
'Wait!'
He paused, brows raised at the sudden uncertainty in her voice. 'Empress?'
'The Claw – I can do nothing – I cannot recall them.'
'I know. They deal with their own.'
'Where will you go?'
He smiled in the darkness. 'Your confidence in me is flattering, Empress.' He swung the stallion around, strode to the doorway, then turned back one last time. 'If you meant to ask, will I come for you again? The answer is no.'
Minala was covering the entrance from a few paces away. She slowly straightened as Kalam stepped into the hallway. The crossbow held steady as the assassin pulled the stallion into view, then went around and shut the door.
'Well?' she demanded in a hiss.
'Well, what?'
'I heard voices – murmuring, garbled – is she dead? Did you kill the Empress?'
I killed a ghost, perhaps. No, a scarecrow I made in Laseen's guise. An assassin should never see the face behind the victim's mask. 'Naught but mocking echoes in that chamber. We're done here, Minala.'
Her eyes flashed. 'After all this . .. mocking echoes? You've crossed three continents to do this!'
He shrugged. 'It's our nature, isn't it? Again and again, we cling to the foolish belief that simple solutions exist. Aye, I anticipated a dramatic, satisfying confrontation – the flash of sorcery, the spray of blood. I wanted a sworn enemy dead by my hand. Instead –' he rumbled a laugh – 'I had an audience with a mortal woman, more or less ...' He shook himself. 'In any case, we've the Claw's gauntlet ahead of us.'
'Terrific. What do we do now, then?'
He grinned. 'Simple – straight down their Hood-damned throat.'
'A foolish belief if ever I've heard one ...'
'Aye. Come on.'
Leading the stallion, they went down the hallway.
The unnatural darkness slowly dissipated in the old Main Hall. Revealed in one corner was a chair on which was seated a withered corpse. Wisps of hair fluttered lightly in a faint draught, the lips were peeled back, the eye sockets two depthless voids.
A warren opened near the back wall and a tall, lean man draped in a dark-green cloak stepped through. He paused in the centre of the chamber, cocked his head towards the double doors opposite, then turned to the corpse on the chair. 'Well?'
Empress Laseen's voice emerged from those lifeless lips. 'No longer a threat.'
'Are you sure, Empress?'
'At some point in our conversation, Kalam realized that I was not here in the flesh, that he would have to resume his hunt. It seemed, however, that my words had an effect. He is not an unreasonable man, after all. Now, if you would kindly call off your hunters.'
'We have been over this – you know that is impossible.'
'I would not lose him, Topper.'
His laugh was a bark. 'I said I cannot call off my hunters, Empress – do you take that to mean you actually expect them to succeed7. Hood's breath, Dancer himself would have hesitated before taking on Kalam Mekhar. No, better to view this disastrous night as a long-overdue winnowing of the brotherhood's weaker elements ...'
