Jierdan now held a fresh copy of the missive
received by the Rogues' Guild earlier that week in his hands, reading
over the mission with a neutral expression. The drow was used to hired
assassinations by now, and many of them were far below his level of
talent. Certainly this man described, Felix, could be no different.
He dismounted from his ever faithful wolf, and
long time companion, Mook, who gave a displeased whine as he led her
towards the Moorgate stables.
"I know, I know," he said soothingly as he petted
her silky fur, "But I cannot take you on this mission with me. You'd
stand out. Besides ... wouldn't you like a nice rest?"
The wolf, which had an extraordinary personality
of her own, snorted, refusing to look at him as he led her past the
trembling stable boy into a stall. Walking out, he paid the young boy,
and as an afterthought, gave him an extra large tip. The already
petrified boy would have his Mook to deal with, and she was irritated,
besides.
After stabling his wolf, he made his way back to
the guild hall by rooftop, jumping from each one, flaunting dexterity
inherent in all rogues. As he landed on his guild's roof, he glanced up
and down the street to make sure no one was watching him.
Satisfied that he was not being watched, he
grabbed the edge of the roof and swung down next to Robyn, who did not
so much as flinch, too used to the comings and goings of Rogues. He
flashed a brief smile, before passing through the portal into his
guild. Before he could perform the mission, he would need a change of
clothes. His attire would be far too telling of his purpose in the
Inn...
"I'd like the 'special package' I sent for
earlier in the year, Tom. You know which one." Jierdan smiled genuinely
as Tom reached beneath his counter, and pulled a heavily wrapped bundle
out from under. He set it on the counter. He never said much, which was
probably to his benefit, since rogues who did business with him usually
preferred to be secretive about their comings and going.
Jierdan had paid long ago for the package, and
grabbed it up. From there, he made his way even farther into the guild,
to an unoccupied dark corner, to open it. Viewing the object inside
took his breath away. Truly, he had not been long away from his home
city of Menzoberranzan in the Underdark, but the drow articles inside
had that effect on him all the same.
Inside were drow trousers, boots, and a tunic.
Resting on top of it was a drow weapon, made of their specially made
metal, adamantine, which would disintegrate, should sunlight touch it.
He handled it lovingly, enjoying the familiar feel of the materials
against his skin. He'd paid Tom an exorbitant amount of money to have
these trafficked to Moorgate, because even the craftiest rogues rarely
did business with drow. Besides, what weapon that would disintegrate
come daylight would be worth anything on the surface world?
His plan was to dress as a wealthy drow slave
lord, come to the city to abduct human and Elven kin to be brought back
to the Underdark, and sold. It was a despised practice among city
dwellers, but the owners of the less fine establishments in Moorgate
did fine business in the drow slave trade, being paid to let go of some
of their less 'successful' waitresses. Beyond the fact that the town
guard either didn't know it continued, or refused to do anything about
it.
After removing all of his telling adornments...
(i.e., Rogues' Guild ring, jewelled necklace, and other items obviously
made on the surface), Jierdan removed his own boots, trying on the ones
made by drow. He hopped, walked, and ran around; looking ridiculous,
but wanting to make sure he could move well in the boots. They were
perfect, made by fine drow leatherworker.
He pulled on the tunic and trousers over his
chain mail vest and shin guards. The clothing would look slightly
unnatural, but that was normal. Everyone knew the drow were warriors by
nature, and would not risk safety at any time while on the surface (the
drow were not a friendly race, and could inspire hostility in the
locals quite easily if they were not careful), so wearing armour under
their clothing wouldn't be a cause for suspicion. He ran water through
his hair, cleansing it with a lump of perfumed soap he'd acquired from
a merchant he'd slewn the week before. Then, he braided his pure white
hair in a popular male style. It had been a while since he'd done so,
but he didn't need a mirror to know that his disguise was flawless.
After all... he had once been a drow noble as well.
Inside the pub, "The WooHoo Tavern", Jierdan
noticed without pleasure that many of the waitresses were giving him
worried looks, as though he really had come to haul them off to the
Underdark as slaves.
He waded through the slowly crowding room, making
his way to the bar, where he sat himself slowly on a stool. The
bartender gave him a searching look, before sauntering over and
barking, 'What can I get ye, my good fella?'
'I'm not here for alcohol.' He figured he might
as well get straight to the point. 'Ever heard of a man named Felix?'
Jierdan was startled when the man seemed to
recoil slightly, and expression of intense anxiety on his face. He was
sure the man was going to tell him sometime, when he suddenly growled,
'Out, ye bleeding scoundrel. Get out of mine bar. And you tell that
wastrel to never send you in here again. OUT!' He bellowed, and the
entire bar went quiet.
Figuring it was pointless to argue with him in
the middle of a crowded room; Jierdan scowled, and got up to leave.
'An' you tell him..," the bartender continued,
his voice quaking, 'You tell him I dun' wan' nothing more to do wit'
'im.'
Jierdan didn't look back as he stormed from the
bar, angry at himself that it had gone so badly. He tugged his tunic
off with a growl, and stuffed it in his pack, then noticed a shadow
pass over him from above...
He looked up, but saw nothing. He stopped moving,
held his breath, and listened. Still... he heard nothing.
He shrugged, and started to walk down a side
street around the corner of the pub, when suddenly something slammed
into him from behind with the force of an angry demon. He fell on his
face, and was quickly yanked back up by the back oh his armor, whirled
around, and slammed into the wall of a nearby building. This time, he
was pinned with his arms twisted painfully behind his back, and a hand
on his throat, partially choking him.
A streetlamp cast yellow light on his attacker,
and he saw that it was a man, probably human, slightly taller than him,
but not of much larger build. Black hair ran down the man's waist, and
he had fierce steely blue eyes. He was dressed in a tuxedo, and a cape,
which for a fleeting second, Jierdan thought rather odd.
"What did you think you were doing?!" the man
snarled.
"I...I was... ughhh," Jierdan tried to reply, but
his windpipe was effectively cut off, and could not.
"You are a fool if you think you can walk into
that tavern and find Felix. You could have ruined everything." The man
released him with another snarl, but continued to glare.
"What are you talking about?" Jierdan snapped
angrily, massaging the back of his head. "This is my job. Who do you
think you are?"
The man looked at him in disgust. "Job? You have
no idea. You will get yourself killed, and then he will get away, as he
always has... go home, dark elf. Run home to your mother."
"Now wait just a minute! Who are you...? How do
you know so much about what I'm here for?"
"Well you announced it to the entire bar there,
didn't you?" The man became enraged all over again. "No, you're coming
with me, you silly, blundering idiot." And he seized Jierdan about the
collar again and Jierdan barely had time to register the man's fist
drawing back before he was out cold.
He woke up again, lying on his stomach upon
something hard and cold. He opened his eyes, and found himself staring
into the eyes of a decayed corpse. He yelled in surprised and jerked
backwards. He was in an open sarcophagus, inside a tomb he knew was
located in the city Graveyard. He jumped from the stone box, disgusted,
brushing himself off, and looking around.
Sitting unnaturally still in one corner was the
man who had attacked him before.
"What is the meaning of this?" Jierdan glared,
but the man seemed unmoved. After several beats... "Well?!"
The man took a breath, and sighed. "Were you
given any background on Felix when you were given the assignment?"
Jierdan paused, and then said uncertainly, "No.
Usually, I'm not... unless it's critical."
The man stared at him for a moment before
replying. "Giovanni, call me by that name. I know Felix. I have been
hunting him myself for a very long time. And he has managed to elude me
until now.
"Felix is a vampire. He has been so for nearly
two centuries. And he is very, very secretive. I have no idea why he
would have involved himself in someone's affairs deeply enough to cause
as much trouble as the letter described..."
"How do you know what...?"
Giovanni waved his question aside. "You had the
employer's note tucked in your boot." Jierdan felt the inside of his
boot as Giovanni continued. "I want to help you kill him, if you will
help me. I don't want any of the reward for his death... all I want is
to see him dead."
"What do you want me to do for you?"
Giovanni gave him a cold smile. "I want you to
meet me outside the observatory on Moonstone Street tomorrow night,
just after dusk."
Jierdan frowned. "Why should I trust you?"
Giovanni laughed. "Because there is no one else
who can help you. Felix knows you are looking for him."
Jierdan awoke late in the afternoon, preferring
to sleep during the day, and roam the night. He climbed slowly from his
bunk in the Rogues' Guild, all too aware of what time he'd promised to
meet Giovanni on Moon St.
He considered his situation. He had never killed,
let alone fought a vampire before. He'd heard horror stories about the
power of some them, and knew of the existence of a relatively safe Clan
of Vampires, the Spirits of the Night. Apart from that, he had no
experience with such creatures, and imagined that ANY undead being
would be difficult to kill.
He passed fellow guild members as he moved to the
portal to the outside. He needed fresh air. He needed to think.
Using a Rogue handhold, he climbed to the roof,
and jumped rooftops until he was above the Harbor Master's Office.
There he sat and stared off into the distance, watching the sun set out
of the corner of his eye.
He was back in his normal clothing, abandoning
his drow articles, all but the dagger (tucked safely in his wrist
sheath) in his locker, disgusted with himself at last night's turnout.
He considered what he knew.
Felix was renowned, at least it in the sleazier
area of town, based on the bartender's reaction to his name.
Felix was a vampire, according to Giovanni.
Jierdan believed him, though he didn't know why. He just had a feeling,
and usually his 'feelings' about people were accurate. Other than
that... what did he know? Not much... at all.
He stared at the water, contemplating until the
last rays of light gave way to dusk.
Jierdan stood outside the observatory, frowning,
waiting for Giovanni. He did not have to wait long.
He turned to look down the street in the opposite
direction, when he saw Giovanni sitting on top of a street sign. He
jumped down and walked placidly over to Jierdan.
"Where did you come from," Jierdan asked,
startled, "I didn't even hear you." Giovanni shrugged. "Ready?"
Jierdan eyed him a moment. "What are we doing?"
"I am going to show you the entrance to Felix's
lair...now come along." Giovanni started down the street at brisk pace.
"Now just you wait a minute!" Jierdan demanded,
"How can you just expect me to approach a vampire's hideout in the
middle of the night? How foolish do you think I am?"
Giovanni turned and snapped, "Foolish enough to
walk into an inn and request a man you intend to kill. Felix is a
monster. He controls... everything. His servants are everywhere. You
cannot comprehend the power he wields in this city! That is why he must
die. No one deserves that sort of power..." Giovanni breathed in and
out emotionally. "No one..."
"But if he's that powerful, then how could
anything I do have an impact? What good will walking up to his front
door do? I don't understand you." To Jierdan, this seemed pointless. He
was a rogue. He assassinated victims for money. He was a mercenary. He
did not campaign for the good of the common people, or whatever
Giovanni was on about, and he told him so.
Giovanni took a deep, calming breath. "Fine. But
just follow me. Trust me, you will not be hurt."
Jierdan shook his head, and followed after
Giovanni.
They were now both on a rooftop overlooking City
Walk East and Laurel Lane. Across the way, a huge mansion dominated the
block, with dark windows and an overgrown lawn. The entire place seemed
shadowed and foreboding. Jierdan was beginning to feel very uneasy.
"Shh... just wait." Giovanni was somewhere behind
Jierdan, who was crouched on the edge of the roof, looking over the
side like a gargoyle fixture on the building.
"Giovanni... I think I see something moving..."
It looked as if something was moving past the window in the upper right
portion of the mansion.
There was no reply. And then...
Jierdan heard a cold laugh behind him, before he
was grabbed roughly by the hair and hauled to his feet. He felt cold
breath against his face that smelled like the decayed corpse, back in
the tomb...
"Jierdan..." The voice was as smooth as silk.
"Death awaits you."
His body was paralyzed, he could not move at all,
and his eyes shut tight as he felt two needles brush the skin of his
neck...
"Master, wait." It was Giovanni's voice, but....
Master? What was going on....?
"What is it, Lucio?" A hiss of contempt. "You
have done well, but my thirst goes unquenched."
"Perhaps there would be a better use for him..."
Giovanni moved into Jierdan's sight. Jierdan glared, raging with hatred
for the man. He wasn't sure if he'd known him long enough to call it a
betrayal, but all the same...
Giovanni did not meet his eyes. His eyes were
fixated on the creature behind him. There was a long pause, and then
Jierdan was shoved forward. His body was still paralyzed, and he seemed
to hang suspended in midair.
The creature Felix laughed again, and it sent a
chill down Jierdan's spine.
"Very well, Giovanni, but I leave you responsible
for catching my food... "There was a snap of fingers behind him, and a
swish of a cloak. Two white figures appeared before him. They were a
sorry sight indeed, their limbs twisted and gnarled. They must have
been wraiths, because below their waists, their profiles faded into
mist. Their clothing was ragged, and their faces vexed. When they
appeared, they opened their mouths, their eyes cast skyward, as if
praying for salvation, and let out a hellish wail that cut through the
silent night like a knife. If Jierdan'd had the control over his body
to scream, he would have, they frightened him so.
They stopped abruptly when Felix began to speak.
"Take him to the cellar... come, Lucio." Giovanni moved past him. Foot
steps behind him, and then only the rustling of the wind in the trees.
The wraiths glided towards him, and Jierdan's
body unseized. He collapsed to the ground, and scrambled to get away,
but they were already upon him... Their cold touch upon his skin
chilled him to the bone, and his body convulsed, wanted desperately to
be away from this horrible creatures.
They lifted him into the air, and into the
night...
He awoke again sometime later in a cold, damp
cell. It was completely empty, even of dirt or grime. He wrapped his
fingers around the bars and tried to rattle them, but they were
completely sturdy. He started to feel along the inside of his wrist
sheath for his lock pick kit, but it was missing. He swore, and felt
inside the other. Not in that one either...
He fell back against the wall, feeling defeated,
his arms falling limply to either side of him. He sat like that for who
knew how long, when he noticed a bit of something long and thin under
his fingers. He brought it up before his face to look at it. It was a
thing, relatively sturdy scrap of wire. He frowned, wondering how it
got in here, and looked again at the lock, his hope renewed.
He jumped up, bending the wire into a suitable
shape. He reached around, the wire in his hand, bear hugging the cell
door, and started trying to pick it open.
The lock started to slide...
"Come on.... come on..." Jierdan coaxed softly.
But just when it felt as if he had it, a strange mechanism went off
inside the lock. Flames exploded out of either side, burning his face
and his lock picking hand. He dropped the wire and wrenched his arm
back inside the cell, holding it to his chest, while his other held his
burnt face, screaming in frustration and pain. It was trapped with a
powerful fire spell. He was going nowhere. He sunk back against the
wall, gritting his teeth, as he wrapped material from his cloak,
wrapping it around his burnt hand. He would not bandage his face...
after all, he needed to be prepared, and for that to happen, he needed
to see.
He scooted as far back into the cell as he could,
in the deepest shadow, and waited, hissing in pain and indignation.
Some time later, he heard a door open somewhere
above him. Approaching footsteps echoed in the hollow cellar. He pushed
himself against the wall with more pressure, though it would do no
good.
Giovanni's face appeared before the cell bars.
"Think you can hide?" His laugh was empty, mocking.
Jierdan's pain left him in a fit of anger. He
jumped up, his arms shooting through the bars, wrapping around
Giovanni's neck.
"You betrayed me, you slimy, good-for nothing..."
but his voice cut off, and Giovanni's eyes glowed a strange blue. His
hands recoiled, compelled by a strange force.
"Silence," Giovanni hissed, "I will not be
accused of something I never did. Shut your mouth, and listen to me.
"You never would have been able to kill Felix
head on, which is why this arrangement is necessary. He has plans for
you... a ritual of ascension, which will make you his eternal servant
if my plan does not work...
"It will be outside, late at night, in the city
Square. His children will make sure no one will 'wander' in."
"Children...?" Jierdan asked, dread in his voice.
"Yes, other Vampires. His childer. And some of
his ghouls..." Jierdan did not have time to ask what a ghoul was,
because Giovanni continued on, hurriedly. "But, I think you can beat
him. With this..." Giovanni pulled Jierdan's old drow dagger from his
waistband. Jierdan took it eagerly, relishing the feel of the cold
metal in his hands... metal that could kill...
"Now listen carefully, because there will be no
room for mistakes. Conceal it on you, someplace where you can reach it
quickly. Felix will come to you to drain you of your blood... almost
all of it. When he has his fangs at your throat, that is when you must
strike. You know how to kill a vampire, don't you?" Giovanni gave
Jierdan a sharp look. Jierdan, feeling patronized, nodded. "Through the
heart..."
"Exactly," Giovanni continued, "It should kill
him. I will be there in case something goes awry, but you have been
warned, I am bound to him, and if he wills it, there is very little I
can do, and I cannot kill him outright. Do you understand what you must
do?"
Jierdan nodded, but his instincts told him there
was something Giovanni was not telling him. Suspicion inherent in his
voice, he asked, "Why are you doing this for me? What do you get out of
his death?"
Giovanni sighed, resting his forehead against the
bars of the cell, showing weakness for the first time. "Jierdan... I
have a confession to make. It was I who sent to missive to Jadrele..."
Jierdan frowned. "I don't understand. Why?"
A pained look crossed over Giovanni's face.
"Felix killed my family... a long time ago. My wife, three daughters,
and two sons. Every last one... I tried to kill him myself, but I
failed... as punishment, he... bound me to him. I was once a great
Sorcerer of some renown... but what good is that, when my power is at
the disposal of an undead?" He sighed softly.
Jierdan wanted to say something, anything, to
comfort him, an attitude so strange in a drow, but before he had the
opportunity, the door above slammed shut. Moments later, Jierdan had
his first glimpse of the vampire, Felix.
He was much taller than Jierdan, and surprisingly
thin. His skin had a very ancient quality to it, a thin and papery
gray. Colorless hair was brushed back, and went to his bony shoulders.
A large amulet hung around his neck, glittering with a thousand tiny
gems that formed a large F.
Giovanni straightened. "Retrieving the prisoner,
Master..."
Felix nodded. "Of course..."
Giovanni unlocked the door with a silver key, and
as he swung the door open, Jierdan slid the drow dagger into his wrist
sheath.
Webs extended from Giovanni's fingertips, binding
Jierdan from head to toe. He turned and dragged him from the cell and
none too gently, Jierdan thought as his head banged into each step on
the staircase to the first floor. He caught brief glimpses of darkened
rooms, covered with spider webs and dust before they were outside.
Jierdan was grateful for two things. One, that it had not rained, and
the ground was reasonably dry, and two, that it was night time, and few
were awake to see him dragged along in such a humiliating manner.
They soon reached Moorgate Square, and Jierdan
was unsurprised to find a tall, thick wooden pole had been erected in
the center. Giovanni moved towards it, and pulled Jierdan upright. The
webs dissolved, and Jierdan's back was forced against the pole, by two
younger vampires. In life, they had been twins, blond hair identical to
the last curl. Giovanni moved behind, and tied his hands together
behind the pole.
Felix stepped into Jierdan's view, gazing up at
the full moon, overhead. He was dressed in a black robe, looking like a
vicar as he raised his arms, as if to greet it.
"Brothers and sisters" he hissed, "We gather here
tonight to welcome a new member into my circle. A new... ghoul." There
was laughter from the small crowd of vampires. He approached Jierdan,
lowering his arms with a sadistic smile. Jierdan sprung a mechanism in
the wrist sheath, the dagger sliding into his hand.
"Jierdan... are you familiar with the term,
'ghoul'?"
Jierdan remained silent, glaring at him as he
sawed carefully at the ropes that bound his wrists.
Felix took his silence as a 'no.' "Ah, I see... I
am surprised your friend, Lucio Giovanni, did not tell you, because he
is a ghoul as well. What good friends you will make once the night is
over with."
More laughter from the vampires.
Felix turned his back to Jierdan, to face his
childer. "Yes, I, Felix, the vampire ghouled the great Lucio Giovanni.
Magick is not all that it seems, is it Lucio? OR maybe... you were not
as powerful as you once claimed. At least not powerful enough to save
your family, or yourself, from their fate."
Giovanni moved into Jierdan's view. There was a
look of barely controlled dury on his face, and his hands were balled
into two dangerous fists.
Jierdan knew what Felix was doing. He was trying
to provoke Giovanni into revealing a possible attempt at his unlife.
Jierdan sawed more insistently.
"Oh, Lucio, my friend, I am sorry. You have been
most useful in your service to me..." Jierdan could feel the ropes
beginning to give.
"Perhaps you would like to open a wound of entry
for me, eh, Lucio? These old teeth," a cold laugh, "I fear they may
weaken with age."
Giovanni looked for one minute as though he would
not, but then he removed another dagger from his waistband, and turned
and approached Jierdan. Jierdan felt the ropes give completely. He was
free.
When Giovanni was right in front of him, he
brought his hands up before his chest. Jierdan could see flames
building there, swirling around his hands.
Jierdan smiled.
Giovanni gave him a swift nod in return, then
spun so quickly Jierdan barely saw him move, and unleashed a barrage of
flames at the younger vampires and the ground around Felix.
The vampires erupted in flames, and many exploded
into piles of ashed before they knew what had happened.
"My CHILDREN!" Felix shrieked, his eyes going
wide. "YOU FOOL!" Felix waved his hand to one side, and Giovanni flung
like a rag doll in the same direction, slamming against one of the
buildings enclosing the square.
Felix then advanced with lightening speed towards
Jierdan. A second later, one cold, gnarled hand gripped his throat. Any
more effort from Felix, and Jierdan knew it would snap. "And so you
die..."
But Jierdan, managing to keep his wits about him,
whipped the hand with the drow dagger in it around, and it sliced
evenly through the dead flesh and bone of Felix's wrist. The fingers
slid away from Jierdan's neck, and the hand fell to the ground,
withering into nothing. Felix howled with pain and anger.
Jierdan whipped his other fist around to strike,
but Felix caught it with his remaining hand, and flipped him over with
impossible strength. Breath left him as he hit the ground with a dull
crunch. Above the flames that now enclosed the square, Jierdan could
see the beginnings of the sunrise... if he could only survive long
enough...
An empty street vendor's cart exploded near by,
sending shard's of burning wood in every direction. Jierdan turned to
his head to avoid being struck by one that landed near him. Felix had
released his hand, to clutch the stub of his wrist in pain, so Jierdan
swung his arm round and grabbed the wood. It happened with be with the
hand he'd burned earlier... He screamed as his old blisters burst, and
flung it with a vengeance at Felix. Felix's robe burst into flames and
Jierdan scrambled to his feet.
Felix dropped to the ground in a frenzy, trying
to put himself out.
Smoke clouded his vision. He needed to finish
this quickly, so he didn't die of smoke inhalation, or even less
favorable, burning to death.
Robe smothered, Felix rose once again,
discombobulated by the heat and smoke. His back was to Jierdan.
It would probably be his last opportunity.
Jierdan reached out with his badly burned hand, adrenaline ebbing his
pain briefly, and grabbed a handful of velvet robe. His other arm
pulled back, and with all the strength he could muster, he sent the
dagger home. At the same time, the sun broke the horizon, flooding the
city with light. Felix exploded in a cloud of ash, and the drow dagger
dissolved away in Jierdan's hand. He staggered, and lost balance,
falling face first to the ground. Felix's amulet hit the ground next to
his face. He reached out and grabbed it, and lay there, tired enough to
sleep forever...
Until he realized that the square was still
burning. He leaped up once more, and looked around desperately for
Giovanni. He had regained consciousness, still slumped against the
wall. Jierdan jogged over, and dangled the amulet above his nose. "It's
alright. We won."
Giovanni looked up with some effort, and smiled
weakly. "Ah... free at last..." His head fell back, and to Jierdan's
dismay, his unlined face began to age.
"Giovanni!" He fell to his knees next to him.
"What's happening to you?! Get up! We have to get out of here...!"
Giovanni, his voice barely a whisper, said...
"No... his blood sustained me for nearly a century... but no more..."
Jierdan was surprised to find his eyes were
welling, and not from the smoke. He'd grown fond of the man, in the
extremely short time that he'd known him. He had seemed to Jierdan to
embody everything he'd ever desired to be... edgy, calm, powerful...
and he had trusted Jierdan enough to put his life in his hands. No one
ever trusted the drow.
"How could you..?! How could you do that?! Have
me kill him, knowing you would die...?!"
"Jierdan...." Giovanni reached out and clasped
Jierdan's hand in his. "It is better to die on your feet... than to
live on your knees... Fare the well... and thank you..." Giovanni's
life extinguished then, his ancient body unrecognizable as the youthful
wizard he had been moments before.
A battalion of Mages entered the square, who
struggled to put out the fire. A town guard marched in, ready to arrest
whomever had caused the fire. But he found nothing but the body of a
dead old man....
Jierdan stood on a rock jetting out over the
eastern sea of Cosrin, Felix's amulet clenched in his fist. He had
considered showing it to Jadrele, as proof he had completed his
mission. He'd learned from a note left in his locker by Giovanni that
the reward for 'proof of Felix's death' had been left with Robyn while
Jierdan was in the basement cell. But as he stared at the gaudy,
jewelled thing, he knew that no amount of gold would make him feel
better.
He drew back his hand, and hurled it over the
edge. He watched as it was enveloped by the waves below.
"For you, Giovanni... rest in peace."
Jierdan turned and walked away from the edge,
turning his back on the water. He mounted Mook, who had been waiting
for him at the base of the rock. He petted her between the ears, and
she growled her approval. Then he clipped her sides lightly, and they
rode off together in the shadows, back towards the city.
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