Night's Haunting Read Online Free PDF

spread along his side. Lucius began to realise that, for all his bulk and love of riches, de Lille was a most credible swordsman. This was not something he had factored into his plans.
    "Go!" Lucius shouted at Grayling.
    He saw her hesitate for a second, and then watched her slight form disappear into the fog. He nodded to himself; there was no sense in them both dying here when they were so close to completing the mission. He just hoped the small thief would be able to make her way past the mercenaries that were undoubtedly on their way.
    Opting not to play to de Lille's strengths, Lucius backed up a couple of paces, reaching for the threads, but his enemy was quick, closing the distance immediately. De Lille thrust again, a blow aimed straight for the heart, though Lucius was more prepared this time.
    Catching the thrust he turned it aside and reached forward with his left hand. Lucius willed. From his palm, a bolt of flame shot forth. Incredulous, Lucius watched it split apart, discharging its energy harmlessly either side of de Lille.
    The merchant advanced, chopping and thrusting with easy, almost lazy blows. The fog was starting to dissipate, but that did not help Lucius in the least, as he was beginning to feel himself tire.
    Backing off another few paces, he thought hard. The merchant had to be wearing some charm. That made some sense, and if anyone could afford such defence, it was de Lille.
    The merchant pushed from his back foot and he lunged with the speed of a viper, delivering a thrust aimed at Lucius' belly.
    Lucius twisted away. The blade gouged a line against his leather tunic, which held, though he would carry a bruise for a week. Unbalanced, Lucius crashed to the floor, sprawling on his back, his sword clattering away from his grasp. Upon him in an instant, de Lille levelled his sword at Lucius face.
    Weaponless, Lucius fell back to his magic. He could not disappear into the shadows with de Lille so fully aware of him, and he knew that a direct attack would be instantly nullified by whatever protection the merchant had bought. That just left flight and escape.
    Taking a deep breath, Lucius concentrated. It felt as those his veins were burning with the energy being channelled through them. He gestured towards one of the thick rugs lying in the centre of the room.
    De Lille saw the rug fly through the air towards him and reacted instantly. He whipped his sword around, but was engulfed by the rug.
    Lucius leapt to his feet and pounded out of the room, realising only as he came to the first junction that he had left his sword behind. He had little wish to confront de Lille again in order to retrieve it.
    Retracing his steps, he sprinted past the ruined combination door and on through twisting passageways to the corridor with the filcher's floor, all the time hearing the shouts of mercenaries and the stomping of their steel-clad feet. The ice holding the floor of the corridor in place had melted some time ago, leaving a damp sheen, but now the alarm had been sounded there was little need for caution.
    With no more pretence at stealth, Lucius ran, feeling the boards shift beneath his weight with each step, every movement eliciting crack, thunder or crash. A mercenary stepped out ahead of him, clad in metal from head to foot. The guard held a spear, ready to gut the thief as he approached.
    Lucius closed the distance between them and then dropped, skidding under the mercenary's guard along the wet floor. Once past the mercenary, Lucius scrambled to his feet and vauled for the chair in front of the open bay window.
    Looking down at the courtyard and gardens below, Lucius snorted in frustration. There was no convenient pond or thicket for him to leap into and a drop from this height would leave him with a broken ankle or worse. Glancing upwards, he thought he would have a chance at scaling the bay and get from there onto the roof, but he was distracted by a roar from back inside the corridor.
    He twisted to one side,