Chapter 2: Shadows in the Wake
Dain didn't move at first. The room was silent but charged, like the air before a storm. The whisper—was it real? A trick of the wind? Or something worse?
He stepped forward, sword still drawn, and examined the body slumped over the table. Aldric had been dead for some time. The blood around the dagger had darkened, congealing against the back of his fine tunic. Whatever had happened here, Dain had just walked into the aftermath.
Carefully, he searched the corpse. No coin purse, no sign of a struggle. Just the dagger and a crumpled scrap of parchment clenched in the dead man's hand. He pried it free and unfolded it, scanning the hastily scrawled words.
They know. Do not trust the—
The ink trailed off in a jagged smear, as if Aldric had been interrupted mid-thought. Dain frowned. Who knows? Trust who? Too many questions, no answers.
The sound of heavy boots on the stairs sent a jolt through him. Someone was coming. Likely more than one someone.
Dain moved swiftly, dousing the candle and slipping to the side of the doorway, pressing himself against the wall. The floorboards creaked outside the room, followed by a hushed voice.
"Still in there?"
A grunt. "Don't know. No noise."
A pause. Then, "Go in. If he's still breathing, kill him."
Dain's grip tightened around his sword. This night just kept getting worse.
The door creaked open. A figure stepped inside, blade drawn, scanning the room. Dain moved fast. He caught the man by the collar, yanked him forward, and drove his sword up under his ribs. A strangled gasp, the clatter of steel on wood, and then silence.
The second man cursed and lunged. Dain barely had time to react. Steel met steel in the dim light, and the room erupted into a vicious flurry of strikes. The attacker was quick but sloppy—Dain, battle-hardened and efficient, turned his opponent's momentum against him, twisting the man's wrist and forcing him to drop his weapon.
The fight ended with a sharp knee to the gut and a final thrust of the sword. Another body hit the floor.
Dain exhaled, rolling his shoulders. Two dead men. Someone had wanted Aldric dead. And now, someone wanted him dead, too.
He wasn't sticking around to find out who.
Moving quickly, he searched the second man's belongings. A coin purse—light, but not empty. More interesting was the insignia sewn into his cloak. A silver serpent curled around a black dagger. Not a symbol Dain recognized, but one he'd remember.
A new problem presented itself: getting out. The fight had been quiet, but not silent. If these men had allies, more could be coming. And the last thing Dain wanted was to be caught standing over three bodies in a tavern full of strangers.
He moved to the window, peering out. The alley below was dark, cluttered with barrels and crates. A drop, but nothing he couldn't handle.
With one last glance at Aldric's body, he slipped out into the night.
The streets of Black Hollow were quiet, but not empty. Dain kept to the shadows, moving with purpose, avoiding the main thoroughfares. He needed time to think.
Who had Aldric crossed? Who had wanted him dead? And why had Dain been lured here just in time to find the body?
The job had been simple—meet a contact, take an assignment, earn his coin. But now it was something else entirely. Someone had set him up. Or worse, someone had meant for him to find this.
He turned a corner and nearly collided with a cloaked figure. Instinct had him reaching for his sword, but the figure stepped back, hands raised.
"Peace," the voice was low, feminine. "If I meant you harm, you'd already be dead."
Dain narrowed his eyes. "That supposed to be reassuring?"
A pause. Then, "You were at the Frosted Stag. You found Aldric."
His pulse quickened. "Who are you?"
"A friend."
"I don't have any friends."
The woman exhaled, tilting her hood back just enough for the firelight from a nearby lantern to catch her face. Sharp features, dark eyes, the faintest scar along her jawline. "Then consider this your first."
Dain studied her. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford—but information? That, he needed.
"Talk," he said. "And make it quick."
She nodded. "Then listen well. Because after tonight, nothing in Black Hollow will ever be the same."