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here was no end to the stairs. Up and up they climbed until they reached a narrow landing and panted while surveying the new curl of stone steps emerging in the flickering light of the wall brazier. Pendaran dropped to his knees as unpleasant rasping sounds emerged from his throat. He trembled and tried to rise. Crescent Blade placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You need to rest. Wait there for a moment. I want to scout ahead.”
He nodded, too exhausted to speak or resist. She had not been tortured or deprived of sleep or gods only knew what else he had endured. The poor man. She owed him an opportunity to survive, and failing that, a comfortable place to lie down and die with dignity. Pushing upward, she followed the rough curve of the right wall with her hand and shoulder, listening and pausing at intervals. The place was crypt like in its somber silence. Alone she emerged into the flickering light of another landing. There was a gaping arch of blackness similar to one they had passed some time ago. Sniffing the air, Crescent Blade detected nothing more noisome than dust and a faint undertone of things long decayed. Thrusting into the blackness, she closed her eyes and probed the shadows, seeking the bright burn of life and finding nothing.
Hurrying back the way she had come, she found Pendaran sitting with his back propped against the wall, his chin perched on his chest and his limbs sprawled around him. He had lost the battle against fatigue and slept, oblivious of her approach.
“Peng Ren, come, I have found a place to rest that is off of the stairs. Wake up.”
He moaned softly but did not open his eyes. Crescent Blade gently shook his shoulder and he coughed, too tired even to be startled as his dull eyes opened. Instinct drove him staggering to his feet, his body propped against the wall as his legs trembled and threatened to buckle. He was much bigger than she, long-limbed like many Tyrians. There was no way she could carry him nor break his fall without risking harm to herself. Despite this, she offered her shoulder to his left arm and they hobbled forth while his right shoulder was pressed against the curved wall.
“Just a little further,” she murmured as his ragged breathing filled the narrow stairwell. His body tensed with pain but he said nothing, not so much as a curse. They paused several times as he fought to breathe and remain standing until the glow of the landing emerged from the darkness. He was almost crawling now and she had to urge him into the shadowy passage. They needed food and water, Pendaran more so than she. In her pity, she helped him to the ground when the glow of the landing was little more than a faint blur of gold and insisted that his head lay upon her lap. His ragged breathing grew calm and even and the soft sounds of slumber were all that disturbed the silence.
Tired though she was, Crescent Blade resolved to keep watch, her senses alert to the shadows and her gaze raking the darkness watchfully as the mesmer slept.
“Why did you do it?”
Her blood chilled and she gasped at the sound of Master Bei’s voice.
“No, don’t wake him, he needs to rest. Just answer me.”
“Where are you?” she choked, scanning the blackness and fearing the demon had risen to track them down.
“I’m in Pendaran, at least part of me is. Gods only know what happened to the rest of me.”
It had to be true now that her initial fear had passed. The voice did emanate from Pendaran’s head still resting upon her lap. She sensed the movement of his jaw and realized Master Bei was speaking through him.
“How are you doing that?” she demanded tremulously and then regretted the question. Who was she to drill Master Bei, especially in light of her blundering actions?
“Pendaran and I have a bond. It was once not uncommon for mesmers to join this way, mirroring the dual nature of our goddess. It provided a measure of comfort and safety, particularly for those who indulged in extra planar studies. When I taught him all the rites and initiated him to his path, the bond was forged and finalized by his will. Alas, we also share the trials and tribulations spawned by our lifetimes of misguided choices.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I never meant for things to turn out this way.”
“Why then? You did not answer my question and I have generously answered yours.”
She lowered her face and felt the hot burn of tears behind her eyelids. If only she had never been cast into this miserable role. The gods were cruel.
“Chaos cannot exist without choice and that is the hallmark free will,” Master Bei said, “It would be comforting to think the gods had a hand in the outcome, but that would only undo the greatest gift they gave us. You had choices, Miss Lhan. Why did you choose as you did?”
“I was afraid. When I realized you were innocent… I could not kill you. But I had never failed and I also knew that if I did not do it, someone else would.”
“I see.”
For a long time, neither of them spoke and the low soughing of Pendaran’s slumbering breath was all that disturbed the silence. Guilt tore at her from within. Her plans had seriously gone awry.
“If you’re here and you don’t know where the rest of you is, do you remember what happened?”
“Yes, with alarming clarity.”
“Ama did not do as I asked?”
“Ama Svenka is not who you thought she was,” Zhou replied, “but she did as requested, after a fashion. How did you find her?”
“My old espionage instructor, Margha Charu.”
Zhou laughed bitterly.
“I thought I had seen the last of her when she was made to leave Shing Jea in disgrace. Did she try to recruit you? Has she been keeping an eye on your career?”
“You know her?”
“If there are two sides in a conflict, you can be sure she is double crossing both. Ama and Margha were always close associates. They shared lovers and secrets the way some people share clothing. But how were you to know? She can be very ingratiating and kind while sticking the blade in your back.”
“Then she told Master Tan I had failed to kill you?”
“No, I fear it is Xenarach who betrayed you there. He is confined to torment until I am destroyed. Doubtless he hopes to use Pendaran to find the rest of me and settle the matter for good.”
“I’m very sorry, Master Bei. I thought I was doing the right thing. I don’t know what else I could have done.”
“You could have told me the truth,” he said, “It always amazes me how complicated life becomes when deception is involved.”
Crescent Blade grinned. Complicated did not begin to describe their situation.
“I must rest. There is help on the way and if you can keep my apprentice alive, I may well forgive you.”
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart quickened as hope awakened within her. She wanted to embrace him in her gratitude but as she gazed into the darkness she no longer sensed his calm presence. Now there was only she and Pendaran, frail and exhausted. The man sighed softly in his sleep as she patted his shoulder warmly.
An assassin could not long stay in battle. Hers was a discipline of swift strikes and cunning retreat. If there was one thing she had mastered over the years, it was hiding until the moment favored her.
“I swear by Lyssa that I will save you both,” she told Pendaran, careful not to disturb his rest. If he heard her, he made no sign.
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