Page 62 of The Dragon King's Assassin

Chapter Twenty-Eight

That feeling of accomplishment vanished a few minutes later when arrows came whizzing at Daha and me as we walked to Bracken Road.

“Son of a bitch!” I ran for the cover of an alley as Daha went see-through.

Since it was going on midnight, that worked well for him. He paused, taking the time to get a look at our attacker. Although the arrows would go straight through him in his transparent form, his clothing remained solid, and Daha took great pride in his clothes. So, after getting that look, he hurried to join me.

“It's an Agraiv in a mask, flying about the road,” Daha said as he removed a pocket crossbow from his cloak.

“That fucker is already hunting me?” I peered around the corner, then pulled back when an arrow pinged off the wall near my face.

“You know him?” Daha, standing in the middle of the alley's mouth, aimed and pulled the trigger. “Correction, you knew him?”

“You got him already?” I ducked my head around the corner again. Sure enough, there was now a body in the middle of the road.

“I did.” Daha strolled over to the Argaiv, put another arrow in the assassin's heart (you can never be too careful), then pulled both shafts out of the corpse. He flung bits of blood and flesh off them, as I stepped up beside him.

“Damn. I would have liked to have questioned him.”

“My apologies,” Daha said.

“No, that wasn't a reprimand. I appreciate your help. This man tried to assassinate the King last night.” After a quick scan of the dark street, I crouched to remove the assassin's mask. “I don't recognize him. You?”

“No.”

I searched the Argaiv's pockets, especially the deep ones in his cloak. He was pro; the only things on him were the tools of his trade. I divested him of those tools (it's always nice to have backups), slid them into my vest, then stood. “Shit. I don't think a carriage will pick us up if we're carting around a body, not even outside the Broken.”

“It doesn't have to be a body.”

“Doesn't it take time to raise the dead?”

“Not when they're this fresh. But I warn you, he will nearly be the same man that he was. Death has not had the time to wipe the slate clean.”

“You mean, he'll try to kill us again.”

“I'm inclined to think that you were his main target, but yes.”

I pulled a length of cord out of the assassin's cloak and bound his hands behind his back. Then I broke his wings. Vicious, yes, but I couldn't have him flying away. “All right. Do it.”

Daha nodded in approval. “Step aside.”

I moved aside, casting a quick look around. No one was on the streets. In the Broken, people know when to run or at least hide. There were probably many eyes watching us, but most would know exactly what Daha was doing, and so, watching would be the most they'd do.

Daha's hair and cloak undulated in the breeze of another realm as he spoke ancient words, and his eyes began to glow. Not brightly, just a dull, gray light, as if wherever that light came from, it was too dark to shine brilliantly.

Suddenly, Daha surged downward and slammed his palm onto the chest of the Argaiv.

The man came gasping back to life, coughing and jerking against his bonds as his stare shot around the street. It landed on me, and he tried to stand. His bound hands made this difficult and his broken wings probably made it painful, but he kept at it. As he struggled, I strode forward and slapped him across the face.

The Argaiv shook his head as if clearing it, blinked, then screamed, “My wings!”

“You are charged with the attempted assassination of King Tarocvar Verres. As you're dead, that doesn't really matter anymore, but if you refuse to come with us quietly, I'll break a lot more than your wings.”

“I'm dead?”

“Yep.”

“I don't feel dead.”

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