Daemon Gates Trilogy Read Online Free PDF Page A

all overlaid with the coppery tang of fresh blood. Actions that seemed benign at first proved too ter­rible to contemplate. A man and a woman were dancing beneath a lamppost, their hands at each other's sides, but as he passed closer, Alaric saw that the woman was hold­ing a long, thin blade in both hands, and the man was skewered upon it. His writhings were of pain, and his hands were desperately pushing against the woman, trying to loosen her hold upon the weapon that she had rammed through his torso, while she laughed and twisted the skewer to watch him shriek and squirm. They both glanced up at Alaric as he passed, and the man's eyes were wide with pleading, while the woman licked her lips and grinned to reveal sharp, bloodstained teeth. Then they were merely dancing again, but the other image remained burned into Alaric's brain, even after he had passed by and the crowd had swallowed them up.
    'Need to stop?' Dietz asked, watching him intently.
    ^Alaric shook his head, the movement making his tem­ples throb. 'No,' he replied hoarsely, wondering idly when he had last had a drink, and then trying not to retch at the thought of the different fluids he had seen imbibed this night. 'Let's keep going. The sooner we find their trail again the sooner we can recover the mask and leave this city behind.'
    'Fine by me.' He knew Dietz would be happy to see the back of Altdorf, though perhaps not so much as he would. Hopefully, once Geheimnistag ended and once they were back beyond the city walls these strange images would fade away. Otherwise Alaric was afraid he would go stark raving mad.
     
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    Dietz glanced over at Alaric again, hoping his employer wouldn't notice. He was worried. Alaric had been tense and pale since they'd left Middenheim, and in the past hour his appearance had grown even worse. And all that talk about seeing things? It could be drugs, certainly, incense or herbs in the smoke that seemed to fill Altdorf today. It could be fatigue. Or it could be illness. Alaric's voice was starting to sound scratchy, and once or twice Dietz had noticed his hand trembling. Had the long ride from Middenheim taken its toll on the young adventurer- scholar? Dietz vowed to keep a close eye on Alaric, even more so than usual.
    Fortunately, the crowds meant they had to ride close together, their legs brushing each other. He really did not want to lose Alaric in this mayhem, especially not with them heading towards twilight and with Alaric under the weather. Dietz told himself that if they didn't find a clear sign of the cultists by dusk he would insist they find shelter
    for the night, mask or no mask, and the sign would have to be something he could see as well.
    He was still thinking this when they rounded a corner, and stopped. Ahead of them, the street ran into another approaching from the west and widened into an irregular plaza that expanded to the east until it ran up against some massive building along the side. In front of them was a small cluster of buildings, and they were the first he'd seen unadorned since entering this city. They had no unusual decorations. Dietz did see one mark, and it explained a great deal about the plaza's apparent exemption from the craziness that filled the rest of Altdorf. The mark was prominently displayed in blazing white upon a jet-black banner, hanging from the stout stone building in the mid­dle of the cluster, and it was the twin-tailed comet of the witch hunters. Many of the zealots stood before the build­ing, and a massive bonfire raged a stone's throw away, between them and the plaza's western edge. A group of men and women were being held near the fire, many of them still masked, and all of them bound and under guard.
    Of course, Dietz thought, the Day of Mystery was a time when many people cast aside civilised behaviour in favour of drunken revels, debauchery and violence. The witch hunters frowned upon any excesses, and were notoriously straight-laced. A