Mickey Zucker Reichert - Nightfall's Promise

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NIGHTFALL'S PROMISE

MickeyZucker Reichert

IN the western quarter of the country ofSchiz , a fire danced in the hearth of the He-Ain't-Here tavern,

casting scarlet and amber patterns over the diners. Nightfall sat in the corner chair of a corner table,

beside King EdwardNargol ofAlyndar . Guards ate and drank around the periphery, their presences

ironically unnecessary. On his last visit, the eighteen-year-old monarch, then an impetuous idealistic

prince, had survived with only Nightfall for protection and company despite dangerousnaivete and a

pursuing sorcerer hell-bent on slaughter.

Arrayed inAlyndar's purple and silver and its crest, a powerful fist clutching a hammer, they all cut

dashing figures; but the young monarch put the rest of them to shame. Brilliant golden hair offset a round,

handsome face. His tall, muscle-packed frame exceeded even his guards', but his friendly blue eyes gave

him an air of approachability despite his imposing size. Of all the men at the table, he overshadowed

Nightfall most of all. Of average height at best, slender and sinewy, the assassin-turned-king's-adviser

sported short mahogany-brown hair and blue-black eyes that still held a glint of evil. Once a master of

disguise living as seven different men, Nightfall had spent months adjusting to his given name,Sudian , and

the one appearance he had never used: his own.

Commoners and travelers swarmed the nearby tables, keeping the help in constant motion. Nonetheless,

a barmaid or busboy remained always by the royal table, prepared to wipe up any spill, to relay their

least request.

When not cooking or cleaning, the pudgy proprietor stood in the doorway between kitchen and

common room, wringing his hands. He was not accustomed to royalty in his simply furnished red-stone

building. The upper class normally took lodging in the south-end inn that Nightfall had gotten to know

well in his persona ofBalshaz the merchant. As the polio-stricken odd-jobber,Frihiat , however, he had

grown familiar with the He-Ain't-Here's few rooms, now booked solid. He took some guilty pleasure in

the usually unflappable proprietor's discomfort.

In the best position for surveying the entire room, Nightfall noticed two men approaching, before any of

the guards so much as rolled a gaze in their direction. In his mid-twenties,the younger one sported an

overlarge head topped with muddy curls, a crooked nose, and broad lips. The other appeared

middle-aged, tall and thin with a mop of sandy hair and a scar that ran from the outer corner of his right

eye to his chin. Nightfall recognized both. The first was BrandonMagebane , a gifted man with the most

dangerous career Nightfall could imagine: hunting sorcerers. The second,Gatiwan , had

accompaniedBrandon on some of his forays, risking his life to rid the world of its greatest evil. Sorcerers

gained their magical abilities only by slaying those rare people born with a "talent," and their method

required tortuous ritual slaughter and taking possession of the victim's soul.

Quick as a cat, Nightfall rose and held out his hands in greeting. "Brandon.Gatiwan. Good to see you

both again."

Guards' hands went to hilts, but the exuberant greeting of the king's adviser kept them from standing or

making any overt sign of threat.

Brandonbowed appreciatively to the king,then addressed Nightfall."Sudian. How wonderful to see you

again. I presume you've come to fulfill your promise?" It was a ludicrous assumption. No king would

travel halfway around the continent merely to escort a servant. As fast as the thought arose, Nightfall

quashed it. King Edward would.

Edward turned a beetle-browed look on his adviser. To most of the world,Sudian had sprung from

nowhere, the next in line to replace the thirty-six previous stewards who had abandoned the job of

protecting and educating the brash young prince. Then, bound to him by magic, Nightfall had had little

choice but to keep Edward safe and his best interests always in mind; and he did that by pretending to

admire the boy to the point of slavish toadyism. For these men ofSchiz to know Nightfall asSudian , they

had to have become acquainted with him while he traveled with Edward; yet the king had never seen

them.

In fact, Nightfall had metGatiwan in a tavern while Edward slept, and the older man had referred him to

the younger. Nightfall had met withBrandon in secret, seeking one of the magical stones theMagebane

created with his natal talent, which could thwart a sorcerer's magic for a single spell.Brandon had given

Nightfall the stone with the promise that, one day, Nightfall would assist themagehunters on one of their

projects.

Nightfall smiled. Born with the ability to adjust his own weight across a vast spectrum, he appreciated

what theMagebane and his rotation of volunteer followers did. Nightfall had also finally found a happy

life, friends, and a woman he loved, and had no interest in becoming part of a suicide mission. "Not

today,Brandon . But thanks for the offer."

Looking around, Nightfall found King Edward staring at him and knew what had to follow.

"Did you make this man a promise,Sudian ?" In Edward's tone, Nightfall heard the same damnable

nobility that had caused the king's late father to bind the boy to an assassin despised as an otherworld

demon.

"Well, yes, Sire," Nightfall admitted. "But just as a general 'maybe someday' type of—"

Edward would hear none of it. "If you promised . . ."

"Ned . . ." Nightfall warned, knowing the king had no way of knowing to what dangers he was about to

commit his adviser. He used the name Edward preferred from people he considered friends, also trying

to remind the boy-king that his companion, at thirty-four, was nearly old enough to be his father: older,

wiser, and far more experienced.

Edward ignored the unspoken advice. "A man of honor holds dear even the least of his vows."

Nightfall crooked a brow. No words were necessary. Of all thernen present, Edward alone knew his

previous guise as the night-stalking demon of legend, anything but a man of honor.

King Edward's blue eyes held that fiery gleam of a personal crusade, a look that brooked no

compromise. For whatever reason, he believed his adviser's actions reflected on him and on the esteem

ofAlyndar itself.

Nightfall sighed,then turned his gaze back to a smiling BrandonMagebane . "I'd love to help you," he

said, with clearly feigned enthusiasm. "What would you like me to do?"

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