Free Journey into the Void by Margaret Weis Page A

took his family to the home of his brother-in-law, there to regale him with tales of his own courage in the face of frightful danger.
    The Inquisitors worked throughout the night, removing and sorting through the rubble themselves, permitting no one else to enter the building. When they finally left, sometime near dawn, it was observed that they carried with them a small sack, which they treated with great care. What was in the sack, if it contained pieces of the Vrykyl or his armor, was never revealed. The Inquisitors informed the Regent, who then informed the young king—in case he’d been frightened—that the Vrykyl had been destroyed.
    It was said that the young king was extremely pleased to hear the news.

T HE LIGHT FROM THE BLAST THAT DESTROYED THE VRYKYL ILLUMINATED the night sky and shook the cobblestone streets for blocks around the Tubby Tabby. The blast shattered windows, set fire to a neighboring roof, and caused widespread alarm. The fire was soon doused. The city guard and town criers hastened up and down the streets, reassuring the populace that the Revered Magi were dealing with the situation. Everything was under control. People should go back to their beds.
    At the sound of the blast, Jessan halted and looked back over his shoulder.
    â€œThat could have been us,” said Ulaf, as the ground shook beneath their feet.
    Jessan nodded, then glanced around in confusion. “I think the tavern where I left Shadamehr is somewhere around here.”
    â€œIt’s down this alley,” said Ulaf, turning off the main street.
    The magical light cast by the battle magi didn’t penetrate as far as the alley. Everything was dark and silent. Too dark, for Ulaf’s liking. There were no lights in the tavern’s windows.
    â€œHow’s Bashae?”
    â€œBreathing,” said Jessan. “Bashae wanted to talk to Shadamehr. The baron was in a bad way when I left him. I didn’t tell Bashae that he might be dead.”
    â€œThe gods are not in a great hurry to have Shadamehr join them in their heavenly pursuits, so I wouldn’t assume the worst just yet,” said Ulaf, trying very hard to follow his own comforting advice.
    The Crow and Ring, the tavern in which Shadamehr had sought refuge from the Imperial Cavalry, was known to Ulaf. Located near both the Temple and the palace in an alley off Bookbinder’s Street, the Crow and Ring catered to tradesmen in the printing and binding profession and minor government functionaries. Small and snug, the Crow and Ring lacked the amenities of the Tubby Tabby, having no back exit, but it did boast a storage room filled with empty ale casks that were about the right size for hiding a full-grown human—as Ulaf could testify from experience—and a proprietor who, though she talked a great deal, knew when to keep her mouth shut.
    Ulaf was having difficulty adjusting his eyes to the darkness of the alley, after the eerie white glow of the light spell. Jessan had better eyesight, apparently, for he said, “Someone is there, standing in the doorway.”
    Ulaf squinted, but it wasn’t until they were practically entering the door that he saw the proprietor—a stout woman in her middle years who’d inherited the Crow and Ring from her late husband.
    â€œWho’s that?” she asked in a tremulous voice.
    Light flared. She had removed the cover from a dark lantern, and now flashed it directly into Ulaf’s eyes.
    He cried out, raised his hands to shield his face.
    â€œIt’s me, Maudie,” he said testily. “Close the shield! You’ve near blinded me!”
    â€œIt is you, Ulaf,” she said, peering at him intently. “Thanks be!”
    She obediently slid shut the panel on the dark lantern, hiding the light. “Are the guards after you? Where did you come from? What have you got there? Children? Poor dears. Come inside and be quick about it. Did you hear that blast? They say that