The Morning Keeps Breaking

The first hound caught them before the next crossing.

It sprang against the unicorn’s left flank, claws raking the wound the greatsword had opened. The creature stumbled beneath the three bodies on its back. Maeril bent over its neck while Rishi tightened his injured arm around Nar’l.

The drow’s weight tore at his shoulder. His grip opened for a moment, and Nar’l twisted across his lap.

Rishi caught the collar with his right hand. The hound gathered itself for another leap at the unicorn’s foreleg. He hooked one knee over the creature’s back, leaned out, and drove his other heel into the hound’s face.

It fell across the legs of the second. Both went down in a tangle of black hide and sparks.

Erik drew alongside in the right-hand gutter, keeping his horse clear of the unicorn’s wounded side. “Can the swordsman follow?”

“The alley is closed,” Maeril said. “Keep us going.”

Nar’l dragged a hand free.

Rishi felt the sling move before he saw the staff. He caught the drow’s wrist against his chest, but his left arm would not hold the other one. Fingers closed around the carved wood below his knee.

Maeril turned at the sound of a word beginning.

Rishi had no room to strike without hitting her. He hooked his injured forearm around Nar’l’s chest, freed his own staff with his right hand, and let their weight carry them both off the unicorn.

They struck the street shoulder-first. Rishi turned with the fall, keeping his head clear of the stones. Nar’l’s breath burst out beneath him. The spell died in his mouth.

Rishi came up on one knee. Pain filled the injured arm, making his hand useless against the drow’s sleeve.

Nar’l pulled his staff from the sling.

Rishi knocked its head aside with his own and struck the wrist behind it. Blue-white light flared between them. The next blow rebounded into Rishi’s shoulder, and Nar’l rolled clear.

An arrow passed over Rishi’s back. It struck the shield and spun into a shutter.

“He is keeping you in my way!” Erik shouted.

Nar’l rose onto one knee and thrust the staff toward Rishi’s chest.

Rishi stepped inside its reach. He trapped the shaft beneath his good arm and drove his own staff across the drow’s mouth. As Nar’l fell back, Rishi brought the metal-capped end down where neck met shoulder.

The drow collapsed. His fingers opened, and Rishi kicked the tall staff into the left-hand gutter. He stood between it and Nar’l, pressing his wounded arm against his body.

Farther along the street, the unicorn slowed under Maeril. Light gathered at its horn and passed through the singed mane. The edges of the cut in its flank drew closer. Blood still ran down the leg beneath it, but the flow had thinned.

It took another step. The damaged foreleg shook when it accepted the weight.

Maeril laid her palm against the neck. She could feel the creature’s heartbeat beneath the burned hair.

Behind Rishi, the hounds separated and rose. Heat opened along their ribs. One came up each side of the street, widening the distance between them as they ran.

Erik turned his horse toward the right-hand wall. Rishi was nearer the left, with Nar’l on the stones a pace beyond him. A woman pulled a child back through a doorway and slammed it. Maeril looked past them to the empty crossing where the hounds were gathering their fire.

“A little farther,” she told the unicorn. “I need room behind us.”

It moved down the center of the road. She turned across its back and braced Manshoon’s staff against her thigh. The added distance brought both hounds within the widening reach of the cold she could feel in the wood.

Nar’l pushed himself onto one elbow.

His staff lay beyond him in the gutter. He looked toward Rishi, then toward her. The black clasp had come out of his hair.

Rishi’s left sleeve was dark to the wrist. He was still trying to close the hand with which he had carried the drow.

Maeril tightened her fingers around the staff. Nar’l had blamed Elisa for the bowl. He had stood in an alley and spoken of the people who would need him when Xanathar fell. Now he lay in the road because Rishi had brought him out of that alley alive.

She set the staff’s point on him. “Rish, get down,” she shouted.

Rishi turned toward her and dropped against the recessed doorway on his left. Erik had his horse close beneath the opposite wall. Between them, Nar’l lifted his face.

Maeril released the cold.

It crossed the space beneath her hand and struck him before widening toward the hounds. Frost sealed his mouth. His hair whitened against the stones, and the hand supporting him froze where it was braced.

Rishi reached from the doorway. The cold drove him back before his fingers touched the drow’s robe.

Beyond Nar’l, fire vanished between the hounds’ jaws. Ice raced across black hide. One fell headlong; the other tried to turn and slid on its side until it struck the base of the warehouse wall.

The spell passed. Maeril held the staff steady until the last of its force had left her hands.

Neither beast moved.

The unicorn stopped. Its head descended until the horn nearly touched the street. Maeril slid down on its uninjured side and kept her hand against its neck while her left leg found enough strength to hold her.

Behind her, Rishi crossed the frost.

He knelt beside Nar’l. The drow’s eyes were open. Rishi touched the frozen neck with the fingers of his good hand, waited, then withdrew them.

Rishi opened his satchel and took out a square of clean linen. He laid it over Nar’l’s face and remained there for a moment, his own staff beside his knee.

Maeril came as far as the edge of the frost.

“I meant to bring him back alive,” Rishi said. “He might have known where to find them.”

“I know what you meant.”

He looked up at her.

“He put Elisa in front of that creature,” Maeril continued. “Firemind is stone. Chime is gone with her. And he came here to take what was left.”

She lowered the staff until its end rested on the stone. “I had enough of him. I chose to end it.”

Rishi lowered his eyes to the covered face. He straightened the cloth with two fingers, although it already lay flat. “I understand, Maeril.”

She waited. He rose slowly, collecting his staff, and kept his gaze on Nar’l until a deep crack sounded beneath the next crossing.

Both of them turned.

Dust fell from a warehouse cornice. Erik’s horse backed away from the gutter, and he leaned forward in the saddle to steady it.

“We cannot stay here,” Erik said.

Watch officers came into the street behind him. One raised a crossbow at the frozen bodies, then lowered it when Erik called to him. “The hounds are down. There is a swordsman behind a spell in that alley. Cover him before she lets it go.”

Maeril pointed back toward the narrow arch. Through the barrier, the assassin stood beside the loading door with both weapons in his hands. Two officers moved into position, then a third.

Rishi picked up Nar’l’s staff from the gutter and brought it to the officer remaining with Erik. “The drow is dead. Give this to the Watchful Order.”

The officer took it carefully, wrapping his cloak around the runes before lifting it clear.

Rishi showed him the approach on the map. “The Blackstaff is following us. Send word that Erik from Rivenbeam is taking us to the service cut by Waymoot. Through this house, if it still stands.”

The officer studied the place Rishi indicated, then beckoned another man over and sent him back toward the crossing.

At the alley, crossbows settled on the assassin. Maeril lowered her hand. The swords fell to the stones, and the officers went in.

Only then did Erik put his bow away. He drew a shallow breath and held it while fastening the strap. His free arm remained close to his ribs.

Maeril turned toward Rishi’s shoulder. “Let me bind that before we go.”

He set his staff against the wall and opened his satchel with his right hand. She took the clean linen he offered. When she reached for his collar, he turned enough to give her the wound.

The cloth beneath his shoulder was soaked. She cut it clear with the small blade from his kit while he pressed a folded pad against the front of the wound. His breath caught when she drew the first turn tight.

“Is that too much?” she asked.

“Keep it there.”

She bound the pad in place and passed the linen across his chest. He guided the final turn with his good hand. His left could close, but only halfway.

The unicorn shifted beside them. Rishi set the remaining clean cloth against the worst of the bleeding on its flank. It looked back at him without moving away.

Maeril rested her forehead briefly in the scorched mane. “You may fall down now, if you need to.”

Instead it lowered itself enough for her to mount.

She looked at Rishi. He put the kit away, took up his staff, and offered his good arm to help her rise. She used it, favoring the leg that had taken the fall.

Erik turned his horse toward Waymoot. Rishi kept pace beside the unicorn, holding the cloth against its wounded flank. Maeril watched the street ahead.