explanation be?" she asked, trying to keep her face as still as she did when gambling.
"That your low-class friend broke it."
"I would be sure to tell the investigator that we both felt threatened by three drunk guards who had already gotten violent."
"So what? They'll still take him in for questioning, and he'd get into a lot of trouble, even if his brother is in the guard. His brother could get in a lot of trouble too," he responded, with a sort of satisfied smile.
Donnan was sorely tempted to leave the shadows and put the fear of god into the arrogant guard.
Her pretty face fell. "I see. Then I won't press charges after all."
"Wait, you'll protect that nobody, but you'd turn me in? You've known me for years."
"Yes, I have. And I'm sorry I never managed to look past the good breeding and good looks to accurately get the measure of you." She stood up abruptly. "Our friendship ends right here, Reese. I do not wish to see you or speak with you outside of formal gatherings. You have shown me that you're a poor guard and no gentleman. Good day," she finished firmly, and walked directly out the door, ignoring Reese's protests.
Donnan slipped into the shadows and found Aolani briskly walking down the street. He hurried up to her. "I take it things didn't go well?" he asked, not letting her know he'd been eavesdropping.
"No, no they didn't." She was looking at the ground, but he could tell by the quiver in her voice she was near tears.
"I'm sorry. I'm real sorry."
"I feel like such an idiot that I could never see what kind of person he really was. He did remember you broke his wrist and he used that to keep me from pressing charges. I'm sorry, but it looks like it gets away with this behavior for now."
"Ah, dammit. Well, it's not your fault. If anythin', it's mine because I didn't hold my temper." He sighed. "Sounds like you stood up for me, though. I appreciate that."
"You've been a better friend to me than Reese has in these past few months. I appreciate that."
"So, do you want to do somethin' tonight, maybe get you to cheer up?"
She shook her head. "No. I'd like to just go home now."
"I'm real sorry," he repeated, and walked her to her apartment in silence.
At the door, she looked at him, her hazel eyes red. "Thank you for being so understanding." She leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you at tutoring." Then she entered the apartment, leaving him standing in the falling snow with a dazed expression.
He rubbed his face thoughtfully. After a few moments, he headed to the Temple of Night, first walking several blocks to make sure he wasn't being followed. When he was satisfied he wasn't, he walked into the shadows.
And appeared directly in front of Dwyer's study.
"Come in," the priest called, hearing the knock. "Well, my Lord, what can I do for you?"
"There's a guard I want thrown out. And thrown out as soon as possible," he answered immediately.
The priest looked a little surprised at this abrupt request. "May I ask what prompted such an urgent request?"
"No."
"I thought as much. What is the name and rank of this guard?"
"I don't know his rank, but he's the Guard Commander's son."
He raised an eyebrow. "Reese. I believe you mentioned him in one of our earlier talks. Why the need for action now?"
"None of your damn business. Just get him thrown out, alright?" he snapped.
"Such a thing is much easier said than done. He is the commander's son, and I know he has a history of poor behavior. If he hasn't been punished for it so far, there's little reason he would be punished now."
"It's not that difficult," he replied, exasperated. "You just need to get him to start a fight with someone important enough his father can't ignore it."
"Who did you have in mind to go along with this set-up?"
"I don't. That's why I'm here."
"None of my Order could do this, not because we're not important, but because of who we are."
"So ask one of your friends. These people I've been deliverin' messages to. They've got to owe you some favors by now."
"If you're serious about this, I'll give you a name and address, and you work this out for yourself."
He gave the priest a suspicious look. "Why make me do it? You said you guys would help me."
"I am helping you, by telling you were you need to go. It's up to you to convince the contact that she should help you. I rather suspect she will, once you make it clear to her who you are."
"Wait, you told people I'm the ShadowWalker?" he demanded.
"I've told certain people that I am allied with a young man of considerable magical power and ambition, but few conventional means to realize that ambition."
"You told them I was a mage."
"No. They've assumed you're just a mage, probably of sorcerer rank. And if you are even vaguely aware of the contents of the messages you carry, it shouldn't be difficult to convince these same certain people to do such a small favor for you."
He caught the subtle insult. His temper rose and the temperature of the room dropped abruptly. "Tell me who it is," he bit off.
Dwyer seemed unperturbed by the sudden chill in the room and gave him a name and address.
"That's the head of the Salt Guild," he said with some surprise. "She's goin' to help me?"
"That, my Lord, depends entirely on how you handle the situation. Simply tell the servant at the door that you're the new messenger for the Guild. She'll know what that means, although you may have to prove you are who you claim to be. She should be in this evening."
"Thanks." He turned and melted into the shadows.
He appeared a few blocks away from the address. The neighborhood was a wealthy residential area, with large houses separated by large lawns. When he reached the address, he simply had to stop and look. The house was huge. It was three stories, made of stone and wood, with many windows on the upper floors. In the dim light of the street lamps, it was hard to make out specific details, but he had no doubt there was gold lining the decorative trim. The house was surrounded by a seven foot stone wall and a heavy iron gate at the front. The lawn inside was now nothing but a white blanket, but he was sure it was immaculately manicured in the spring and summer. The whole place was frankly intimidating and he felt ashamed of himself for wanting to bother such an important woman with such a petty matter.
Then the Dark power stirred inside him, a quiet reminder of a vast power waiting and wanting to be used. He steeled his resolve, and approached the mansion.
The gate was open, so he followed the cleared stone path up to the house. The lights were on and he could hear music and loud conversation inside. He knocked on the decoratively carved double doors, not even sure if it would be heard.
The door was immediately opened by a consummate head manservant, a middle-aged gentleman wearing a black servant's uniform. "May I help you?"
"I'd like to see Mistress Adrie."
The man gave him a quick but thorough appraisal.
"The mistress of the house is hosting a party this evening. Are you on the guest list?"
"Er, no. I was hopin' for a private meetin'," he replied, getting uncomfortable.
The servant's face was expressionless, but there was a flicker of disapproval in his eyes. "May I say who's calling?"
"Tell her the new Guild messenger would like to talk with her."
With another glance of disapproval, the servant opened the door wide. "Please wait here."
He entered the vast house and found himself in a small, square foyer with doors on all four sides, including the main doors. The walls were wooden, the floor covered in gray stone tiles, and the walls decorated with expensive paintings.
The servant opened the door opposite the front doors, and Donnan was struck by a blast of noise from what was clearly a large, crowded, and loud party. A younger servant replaced the older one, bu
t his duty was merely to keep an eye on the guest.
He amused himself by looking at the paintings under the watchful eye of the servant. He was starting to get impatient and lose his nerve when the older man returned. The younger one vanished without a word.
"The mistress will see you now. Please follow me."
He was lead not through the door leading to the party, but through the door to the left, which opened into a lovely sitting room. The servant took him through two more rooms, a large library and a game room, equally as richly and tastefully decorated as they foyer, up a small spiral staircase, down a hallway, and finally to a wooden door. He knocked. "The young man is here."
"Send him in," came a woman's voice.
The servant opened the door, bowed slightly, and closed the door without a sound after Donnan entered.
He guessed he was in a private study or office. Three walls had built in bookshelves. The fourth wall, facing the door, had two windows covered in heavy drapes, a couple of framed maps, and a pair of lamps. The furniture was a fine desk and three leather chairs.
Mistress Adrie was standing next to the chair behind the desk. She was a tall, thin woman in her fifties, but it was impossible to determine her age any more specifically. Her short but well-styled hair had gone completely gray, her eyes were gray, and she had a pair of glasses hanging on a silver chain around her neck. Her face was attractive but hard; handsome rather than pretty. She was impeccably dressed in a long gown of dark blue, with rather expensive looking sapphire earrings and a large sapphire ring.
If he thought the house was intimidating, it was only because it was a reflection of