Free The Demon's Blade by Steven Drake Page B

light from an ordinary torch’s flame. To Darien’s considerable relief, Jerris then put the stone away and continued to follow him down the street.
    "Thanks," he heard the boy say, but he did not reply. They needed to move quickly, to get to his hiding place. He led his charge south, toward the southern entrance of the city and the main gate. Within sight of the gate, he turned right onto a side street between two old houses, then proceeded back and forth through the alleys and streets, checking behind him every few seconds, to ensure Jerris had not gotten lost. After a series of turns and side street detours, Darien saw the abandoned house where the passage to his lair was located. He circled around the back, to a large hole in the crumbling structure. He crept through, checked again to make certain if Jerris was still following, led the boy through empty rooms, then down a staircase to the basement, where he had camouflaged the door to his hideaway.
    "This is hardly a safe place," Jerris remarked, upon entering the room.
    "Quite right," Darien responded, "but it's still safer than yours, isn't it?" He remarked coldly, and waved his hand over a section of the floorboards. A yellowish light appeared in a square pattern on the floor and the boards flipped up with a loud snap, revealing a ladder angled down into the well concealed passage.
    "You really should think before you speak. Blurting out whatever comes into your head just makes it obvious what a great fool you are."
    "I'm not a fool and you know nothing about me," Jerris crossed his arms in front of him, and stomped on the floor. "Do you have nothing useful to say, or do you enjoy being an insufferable ass?"
    "The latter perhaps, but certainly not the former," Darien replied nonchalantly, unmoved by the insult. He then climbed down the ladder, followed by his young companion. It ended in a narrow, earthy tunnel tall enough for an ordinary man to walk through without stooping, but neither of these two were ordinary, being half elven, and their height made it necessary to stoop slightly to keep from banging their heads on the irregular ceiling. The tunnel led toward the south wall of the town, and ultimately ended at another cleverly hidden exit outside the wall, a useful feature for coming and going unnoticed. About midway between the entrances, Darien had used his magic to hollow out a small cavern. As he entered the sizable space, he touched a torch sconce on the wall and the place lit up with an orange glow as the torches arranged around the curved walls came to life. A simple wooden chair sat near the opening at the far end of the cave, a wood-framed cot sat a few feet to its left. To the right stood a chest of drawers, with several books scattered upon it.
    "Do you live here?" Jerris asked Darien, in apparent disbelief.
    "More or less. I live here when I have business in this town. I have such rooms in a number of cities and know of many natural caves and other safe havens where I can stay hidden when necessary. I apologize for the primitive accommodations, but as you might imagine, I seldom entertain guests." 
    Darien hung his cloak on a long nail that protruded from the wall by the cot and since there was only one nail, Jerris simply tossed his on the floor where he stood. The two then saw each other clearly, for the first time. Jerris was slightly shorter than Darien, but still taller than all but giants of men, approximately six feet in height. Quite thin, he had a narrow body and lithe limbs, common in those with elvish blood, and accentuated by his youth. His body obviously had yet to grow into his considerable height and his face too, gave away his immaturity. Beyond that, he had a more decidedly elvish appearance, with narrower shoulders and sharper features and, in particular, his longer, more narrowly pointed ears. Darien found himself feeling somewhat envious, as he recalled how he had always wished to look more like his elven mother.
    The boy’s hair