Free Pathfinder Tales: Lord of Runes by Dave Gross Page B

it.”
    The boss saw things I couldn’t, especially when he used a spell or held his Shadowless Sword. But sometimes I could spot things he’d missed. He said that was on account of “triangulation,” him looking down from his tower and me looking up from the gutter. I say it’s because I grew up on robbery and hiding from the city guard.
    “Will Lady Illyria be there?” I said all innocent-like.
    The boss squinted at the horizon and then at the sun. He had a knack for estimating the time by the height of the sun and knowing what day it was, which I never really understood. “She will meet us by the gates in approximately twelve minutes. We need her to escort us into the campus, but we can leave on our own. There is no reason for her to stay while we conduct our investigation.”
    “You sure you can’t think of a reason?”
    He let his hand rest on the pommel of his sword, but he didn’t say nothing. He didn’t have to.
    When we made it back to the Acadamae gates, I spotted this Illyria. It couldn’t be anybody else with her hair frosted purple to match her clothes—and her eyes, too, I noticed. They were like the boss’s, a deep violet, only a little brighter than his.
    Illyria sat on the edge of the sundial where I’d waited yesterday. She was reading a little book, holding the pages open with her thumb. She wore snug woolen trousers and a leather jerkin and boots, both dyed deep purple. They matched the frames of her spectacles and the cute little hat pinned in her hair.
    She stood up as we got near, fumbling to hide her specs and the book at the same time.
    The boss made his special occasions bow. “Lady Illyria, may I present my man Radovan.”
    “Charmed.” I tried saying it all smooth, like a gentleman. With me, it always comes out a different kind of smooth.
    Illyria slipped her book into a little pouch, turning the cover so the boss couldn’t see the title, but I got a peek: The Red Rose and the Black . She gave me the up and down. “How rugged.”
    The boss has his knacks. I got mine. Not that I was horning in on his action. That’d be a hell of a way to end the partnership.
    Inside the Acadamae walls, we walked past students sitting on the lawn. Like street gangs, different groups tended to wear the same colors or kinds of clothes. The necromancers were easy to make, all in dark robes, most of them pale as mushrooms. The diabolists wore lots of red and black to match their imps, the colors of the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune and Abrogail II, our fearsome queen. The others I couldn’t figure what magic they did, only that they liked the same hats or familiars.
    An imp flew up from behind. Arni woofed and I slapped my sleeve to put three darts between my fingers. Before I could perforate the little devil, the imp pointed at the boss and whispered, “You know, he’s going to drop that sword.”
    The boss was stepping lively, focused on Lady Illyria. Yeah, the way that sword was bouncing around, he was going to lose it any second.
    “You’d better grab it for him,” said the imp.
    That’s a good idea, I thought. I skipped forward to grab it before the boss tripped and fell.
    Arni woofed again, this time at me.
    “What are you doing?” The boss stepped away, grabbing the grip of his sword before I could touch it.
    “It was just … You were about to…”
    All hell broke loose.
    Imps came down from all directions. One sank its stinger into Arni’s flank. The hound yelped and damned near folded himself in half to bite the imp, but it disappeared. Arni nipped at his wound.
    Another one flew right into my face. I felt its stinger hit me in the chest, but the little prick didn’t get through the leather.
    The boss swatted one with the flat of his blade. He put the lady behind him and sketched a spell with his free hand.
    Illyria didn’t wait to be rescued. One hand went to her pouch, which spat out a bone needle strung with red gut. With her other hand she made a clamping gesture at an