Weapon of Fear Read Online Free PDF Page B

room.
    Neither
she nor Lad had detected anyone following them, but this was a person who could
materialize out of thin air.  Underestimating Hoseph could prove lethal.  She
glanced at the band on her finger.  Could he somehow track the ring itself? 
Obsidian and gold danced in the lamplight as panic trembled her.  She shoved it
aside.  Exhausted and blood-weary, her fears were easily roused.  She needed
sleep, but sleeping rendered her vulnerable.
    “What
I need is someone to watch over me…someone I can trust.”  Unfortunately, the
only person she trusted had just ridden out of Tsing in a carriage bound for
Twailin.
    Mya
stopped pacing and dug her two favorite daggers out of her clothes trunk.  She
scraped one of the blades along her arm, pleased to see tiny hairs fall to the
floor.  They were clean and sharp.  If Hoseph popped in, she should be quick
enough to gut him.  If I’m not asleep .
    “Sleep
lightly, Mya, or wake up dead.”  She blew out the lamp, backed into a corner,
and slid down the wall, her daggers ready.
    Feeling
slightly safer in the dark, her nervous energy waned even as her doubts waxed. 
Was this to be how she spent the rest of her life, hiding in the dark, afraid
of death hidden in every shadow?  What choice did she have?
    “Have
someone cut it off.”  Lad’s simplistic solution came to her, and she seriously
considered the option.
    Mya
raised one of her daggers and placed the edge at the joint of the finger that
wore the ring.  She drew the razor edge across her flesh, and blood welled from
the tiny cut.  No pain …  She tried to apply pressure, but her hand
wouldn’t respond.  She couldn’t do it herself.  The ring’s magic wouldn’t allow
her to take it off or even cut it free.  She wiped the blade on her trousers
and sucked the blood from the already healed cut.
    “That
doesn’t mean I can’t walk down to the kitchen in the morning and pay the cook
to do it.”  The simple solution steadied her.  She had an out.  She could,
quite literally, cut and run.
    Mya
had a choice to make: flee, take control of the guild, or destroy it.  It was
that simple.  Regardless of her final choice, however, she had to survive until
morning.  Cold resolve steeled her fear, and she realized that Lady T, Hoseph,
and the guild also had a choice to make.
    “Join
me or die.”

 
Chapter II

     
     
    H oseph woke to darkness and the dry,
musty scent of parchment and leather.  His back ached and he was chilled from
sleeping on the stone floor with only a threadbare blanket, but he took no
heed.  Demia’s chosen cared not for luxuries.  What he coveted were life’s
intangibles: power and influence, order and control.
    Despite
the utter darkness, he knew innately that it was morning and time to rise. 
Calling on Demia’s gifts, a pale glow emanated from his palm.  He rose, stepped
to the table and struck a match, lighting the lamp there and illuminating his
surroundings.  The room was not large, and bookcases packed with old
leather-bound volumes and racks of scrolls made it seem even smaller. The
history of the Assassins Guild was recorded here, unnumbered years of murder
and conspiracy.  This was also the repository of the blood contracts.  Every
assassin signed one, binding themselves forever to the guild, submitting to
their masters’ control, signing their lives over to be spent if necessary. 
This secret room—with the death of the Grandmaster, known only to
Hoseph—represented the power and influence that he wielded as the Right Hand of
Death…power and influence that had been disrupted by Lad and Mya.  Anger and
frustration tensed his muscles and clouded his thoughts.
    “Blessed
shadow of death, sooth me…”  Hoseph recited the mantra until his pulse slowed
and his mind eased.  Dealing with death every day had taught him temperance. 
Hoseph hated being forced into hasty action as he had last night.  The threat
of questioning under compulsion had