19

Taking the afternoon off was pleasant, but the next morning I was back in the Sealord's square with the half-coin pulsing in my hand. Syrio, accompanied by another guard, both with stripes of Rashid's ointment over their eyes, found me in the crowd. "The Sealord wants to talk to you."

I looked at them, my gaze lingering on their painted foreheads. "Why do you think I'm here, let's go." We walked into the palace, there were more guards visible than on my previous visit, one in every squad was wearing the new makeup. "So you're going to want a bit more of that goo? You're enjoying the smell after all?"

Syrio snorted "Just so. The Sealord liked having the odor of bird shit around him so much he's made everyone wear it." I was a little impressed that he'd scented out one of the components, I wouldn't have recognized it were it not for the week I'd spent collecting it and mixing it. Seabird's had sharp eyes that could often see through the water, it was an obvious ingredient for potions to look through illusions, if it wasn't for the smell I'd always have some on hand.

We reached the Sealord's office, the Hendricks clone was sitting there with him, again with the stripes, the Sealord wasn't wearing any, but the jar I'd given Syrio was sitting on his desk. "Harry Dresden, I am grateful for the work you have done in interrogating the Faceless men. I am especially happy that you have given me someone to hold responsible for my brother's murder."

"I assume Syrio told you all we saw in the House of Black and White?" The Sealord nodded, he looked better than the last time I saw him, the prospect of vengeance had shaved years off of him. "Then you know all we have is the word of assassins that the Red Priests have anything to do with this."

"Be that as it may, I am the Sealord. It is well within my power to send men into their temple and drag anything there into light, particularly this shadow-binder." He stood up and looked towards the large glass windows overlooking the bay, "And make no mistake, if the murderer is there I will have him crawling at my feet and their Temple will be burned in the fires they love so much."

I knew what the Sealord was feeling, I had done the roaring rampage of revenge before, but it had never been easy, or without cost. "I was planning to go to the temple, let Syrio come with me and we'll see what they have to say." The Sealord barely waited for me to finish before turning back.

"No. I do not negotiate with murderers. My guards will be storming the temple, your only choice is to go with them or give the shadow-binder free rein against them."

That was how I found myself with Syrio and fifty stone faced men marching towards the temple district. They had used the last of the ointment I'd given Syrio, and all were wearing mail coats and dark leather. The crowds scurried out of our way as we approached, bravos, pickpockets, and bankers not daring to impede us. I didn't want to do it like this, I'd have preferred a softer approach, but if there was a shadow-binder I didn't want the vanilla mortals to be slaughtered without my help. I also had a chance to prevent it from descending into violence, if I didn't go and there was a massacre either way I would blame myself for not doing what I could.

Walking up the steps next to Syrio in front of the soldiers half reminded me of Darth Vader's first showing, but I fought down the image. We were going to try to find a dangerous warlock and I didn't know how dangerous the shadow-binder could be. A young acolyte dressed in red robes saw us coming, his eyes widened and he swallowed, but he came to us anyways, I was a little impressed. "How can we serve the Sealord?"

"Don't impede our and turn over the shadow-binder you shelter." Syrio brusquely spat out. He looked back at the guards and gave them several hand gestures and they spread out heading towards the other chambers of the temple. "He is suspected of the murder of Tregar Antaryon and we will have our answers."

The acolyte gulped and nodded but I doubted he had any real power, we were threatening someone barely a step above an altar boy. Syrio's teams were returning, herding everyone they found into the main chamber, he probably had more men outside watching and taking anyone who tried to leave into custody. We waited for a little longer as they got everyone, several older priests, both men and women, tried to talk to Syrio but he didn't look at them and the guards pulled them back into the rest.

If I hadn't been paying close attention I wouldn't have seen it. Syrio perked up, when he stood normally he was relaxed, in a peculiar way that promised speed and death at a moments notice. Now he was almost quivering, one of the teams hadn't returned. He barked out several commands and two thirds of the the men began to push the mass of priests up towards one of the walls, the remaining third formed up on us. Syrio was in front, I followed just behind. We headed for the door the lost team went in, it lead to a narrow stair leading down and I was beginning to sense something I hadn't felt in years, dark magic and necromancy. "There's something here Syrio. I can feel it." He nodded and drew his sword but kept on going. For a man whose experience with magic was strictly of the horror and death variety, he was keeping his cool admirably. As we kept on descending the taint grew stronger, torches flickered as we passed and I started to draw power. I made sure my shield bracelet was free, and ran my fingers over my kinetic rings. I was as ready as I could be as we went further into the miasma of black magic.

The stairs eventually ended in a circular room with several doors. The taint was so pervasive I couldn't sense a direction and if I looked with my sight it might put me out for minutes. We we crowded in the space, there was plenty of room but in some ancient instinct we had clustered together in the center of the room. Syrio started to speak and for the first time lost something of his composure. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Muller, Hestorin, take the rooms on the left. Nahar, Qarro, go to the right, the rest of you," He gestured at me as well, "we're taking the center. Anyone here, take them down, they can answer questions if they live, or we'll find out ourselves if they're dead." The named men nodded and there was a last pause as they checked their weapons and loosened daggers in their sheaths. Syrio looked at the biggest man in our group, almost as tall as me, and heavily muscled. "Tormo, kick that fucking door down."

The big man charged forward as the other teams ran towards their doors. I prepared a shield as I followed, shouldering through the splinters Tormo left and nearly running into Syrio. The room was empty except for five men with their throats cut lying neatly on the ground. We stared at them for a second, and that was when the screams started.

I turned back, stepping into the antechamber, the torches' flickering lights disguised it at first, but the shadows were moving with purpose, and where they went, sheets of blood followed. My first reflex was to call for light, but the sudden glare just made the shadows sharper, I could see their rapid movements as they sheared through metal and flesh alike. The terror the wraiths brought filled me for a second before I fought it down, I had destroyed unruly spirits before, and they would not stop me now. Infusing my will with Soulfire I whipped my staff forward. "Laqueus!" a silver lash whipped forth and curled on one the shades, I pulled back and with a scream the shadow fell apart as the garrote pulled through it, I swung it towards the next one, but it dodged smoothly before leaping towards me. I stepped back and threw up a shield before it reached me. Its blade screamed as it hit my shield and I felt feedback cascading through my bracelet. With an effort I pulsed the shield larger, throwing it back, and drew my chain in an effortless practiced movement. "Fulminos" I bellowed, the thunderclap from the white-hot beam staggered even the shades, as the one I'd targeted was obliterated.

I seized the moment and called forth another whip of Soulfire, the shades had dropped everyone else in the room and I swept it through the entire chamber catching the other two shades and shredding them. The room was silent for a moment before the moans of the wounded started up. The soldiers who had been behind me with Syrio were the only ones uninjured, and looked at me with more than a hint of fear. "There were five corpses and four shades." I didn't look back at them, keeping my eyes on the chamber. "The shadow-binder still has one left."

"What can we do against it? They cut us all to ribbons!" I looked over my shoulder at the terrified guard before returning my attention to the room.

"What men have always done against darkness, face it no matter what." With that hopefully inspiring, but entirely useless advice given, I stepped into the center of the room. The light now was entirely from my staff, the silver filled runes in it blazed as the staff itself shone, the only shadows were of my making. Standing in the center of the room amid the wounded and dead, with Syrio and the soldiers standing back in the room with the corpses, I began to turn. I was pretty sure I knew how this was going to go, the shade would erupt out from behind me as soon as I turned my back, and then with me out of the way, would kill its way through the rest of the guards. Fortunately that was pretty standard monster fare and I was ready. As soon as the shade moved I felt it. I roared "Defendarius!" as a solid blue shield formed around me, and the shade smashed into it and rebounded. With a snarl I sent forth the same Soulfire powered lash and ripped it into three pieces.

The feeling of dark magic immediately lessened, and I could feel the power of the shadow-binder now that it was the sole source of the intense wrongness. "Syrio." He walked out into the room with his sword ready at my call. "The shades are gone, there's only the monster responsible left."

"Well let's send him to his god then." Syrio stepped forward and the courage he displayed against the unstoppable forces that slaughtered his men was inspiring. I kept my shield bracelet ready as we advanced on the room, and I stepped through the door first. The shadow-binder was pressed against the wall staring at something over my head and muttering. The magic might be different here but black magic still corrupted and he was far gone. Syrio snarled at the sight. "This wretch killed all my men? I'll see him begging for death for days before I let him go!"

He looked at us now and his mutters became shouts "The queen of ice and darkness holds your soul and death walks behind you! Servant of the Other! Begone!" he flung his hand towards me and I raised a shield on reflex, fire burned against it but couldn't penetrate. As soon as I dropped it, Syrio surged forward past me, and impaled him. He gasped out his last words, each quieter than the last. "Ice will kill you too, a snow cloaked man will be your death."

Syrio roared as he pulled his sword free. He slashed through the shadow-binder's throat, his crimson robe now covered in blood. "You know what we say to the god of death necromancer? Not today!" he stabbed the man again before turning away, breathing heavily. Syrio may have rejected the man's last words as ravings but I knew better. He had seen things, Quaithe was not the only one who knew things about my old world.

We walked back to the antechamber, the soldiers that could stand were leaning on each other, and those that couldn't and still lived were being carried by the remnants of Syrio's squad. The stairs were even longer going up, and when we reached the main chamber the other red priests were on their knees, with their arms bound behind their backs. "Oman, get them up, Beric send a runner to the palace, tell the Sealord to expect some guests." Some of the soldiers came to help carry the wounded, the rest, with mailed hands and spearbutts assisting, got the priests moving. The looks we'd gotten on the way there were nothing compared to now, seeing the entire clergy of R'hllor bound and marching through the streets drew a crowd that the unsheathed swords of the guards only moderately dissuaded.

Reaching the palace was a relief, there were apparently enough cells below it to hold them while the Sealord decided what to do with them. Syrio assured me he could handle the immediate reporting as long as I'd come back the next day, while I hadn't thrown around too much power the soulfire and struggling against the taint of black magic had exhausted me. Despite it being the early afternoon I went home, said goodnight to a confused Maggie, and slept, dreaming about Mab's icy grasp.