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."Get away from him!" snapped the woman.She flung open her blue cloak and put a hand on the silver talisman that hung from a chain around her neck."Don't!" said Darrow.He kept his hands away from his sword, snatched Radu's discarded handkerchief, and pressed it against the thin man's bloody chest."I didn't do this.""Maelin." gasped Eckert.A sickening wheezing came from the man's chest, and a mist of blood sprayed from the sucking wound.Blood pooled on the ground beneath him, soaking Darrow's breeches at the knees."Get away, I said!" She pushed Darrow away, intoning a prayer to Selune as she pressed her bare hand against the thin man's chest.Silver light surged within her hand, then spread across the thin man's chest.Darrow watched as she said the prayer again, and more radiant energy passed from the cleric to the wounded man.At last, the blood stopped pouring from the man, and his breathing became steady."Will he live?" asked Darrow."Depends on what he has to tell me about what we just saw," said the woman angrily.She fixed her blue eyes on Darrow."The same goes for you, nightwalker.""How did you know—?"The woman cast another spell, this time summoning a blade of white light to her empty hand."Where is Rusk?" she demanded."Listen," he said, backing up and holding up his hands in a gesture of peace."We can help each other.""I'm listening," she said."Make it good, and make it quick.I'll probably kill you anyway.""You don't need to kill me.I—""Maybe not," interrupted the woman, "but I might want to.Now talk."Chapter 16Behind BarsTarsakh, 1372 DREven before Tal became accustomed to locking himself into a cage three nights of every month, he was no stranger to barred cells.He needed the fingers of both hands to count the number of times he and Chaney had been hauled into jail for public disorder.Usually it was Charley's fault.When faced with a belligerent drunk who disliked nobles slumming in his tavern, Tal usually responded by buying the man another tankard of ale.After a few repetitions of the trick, the drunk usually passed out harmlessly or staggered out to be sick in the alley.Sometimes a match of arm wrestling would do, and once Tal won over an entire crew of rowdy Chessentan sailors by winning a contest in which he and their strongman took turns lifting a barmaid-laden table, adding a new girl to the load with each attempt.Unable to respond with feats of strength, Chaney relied on his sharp tongue when challenged.He especially liked insulting the other young nobles who frequented the cheap alehouses, since they were more likely to provide fair sport for his quick wit.They were also less likely to turn to fisticuffs, at least when Tal was nearby.Given enough ale, however, and even men smaller than Chaney would resort to violence.Even though he never threw the first punch, Tal was always ready for it.When he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he liked the thrill of combat, especially the admiration of the bystanders when he won against a fair opponent—or six lesser challengers.He missed those brawling days over the past year.Since the wolf emerged, Tal had stayed out of taverns for two reasons: to avoid another "accident" like the one that maimed Perron and to avoid finding himself in jail when the moon was full.As it would be tonight.Chaney paced, turning sharply at each corner of the cell.Even with his short legs, it took him only four steps in each direction.Tal rested his chin against his folded arms, staring out through the barred window that slanted up to the narrow alley outside.Street-filtered runoff still trickled down the short shaft to pool on the stone floor.Despite the dirty water, Tal was grateful for the relatively fresh air.The previous occupant of the cell had left a noisome puddle of vomit beneath the cot.The only other occupant in this block of the jail was an old man with a long wispy beard.Tal recognized him as one of the homeless drunks who begged for coppers in the Oxblood Quarter.There was less money there but more charity than in Central Selgaunt, where the Scepters were poised to run off beggars and thieves alike."I never thought I'd say this," Chaney said without breaking his stride, "but I can't wait to see Eckert.""You always say that when we're waiting for bail.""Sure, but I never expect to say it.Hm?"Before this past year, Tal's servant made a habit of checking the jail when Tal hadn't returned home in the morning.If the tallhouse funds were insufficient for bail, it meant a trip to Stormweather to fetch a larger amount from Lord Uskevren.For the first time in his life, Tal dreaded his father's not being told of his predicament more than another night in jail."Let's hope he didn't choose last night to run off with the silver to marry a widow," said Chaney.His banter did nothing to cheer Tal.Their recent arrest was far worse than any of their previous visits to the city jail.If Tal's attacker died last night, there was no chance a magistrate would allow bail, even if Thamalon were willing to pay it.Even if the charge was short of murder or attempted murder, Tal was sure the Old Owl would wash his hands of his wayward son this time."At least this time it wasn't your fault," said Tal, trying lamely to respond with a jest."Everyone will think it was anyway." Chaney sounded genuinely regretful."I thought you liked being thought a scoundrel.""Only when it impresses the ladies," said Chaney with a smile."Let's hope it impresses the magistrate enough to get us out of here before dark.""That's right," said Chaney, as if he had not yet considered the problem of the moon."We've got to get you home before curfew."Tal realized that Chaney was making a great effort to put on a brave face.As bad as it was for Tal to transform while in jail, it would be far worse for anyone locked up with him.Tal glanced at the other prisoner before speaking again in a quiet voice."I'll get them to put me in another cell.""How? You think they'll fall for the old 'I'm sick' routine?""Not likely, all things considered.""We could stage a fight," suggested Chaney."We.could," said Tal slowly.He looked at Chancy and worried about hurting his smaller friend."We'd have to make it look real.""Or you could just let me have it once or twice," said Chaney."I might not be a big strapping lad like you, but I won't break.""I just don't like the idea of hitting you.Usually, I'm fighting other people who're trying to hit you.""Hard for me to complain about that," said Chaney."Besides, there's what happened last night.Punching you once or twice is one thing."".and pulling my guts out is quite another," Chaney finished for him.He kept his eyes on the floor and continued his circuit of the cell.They were both silent for a while."Maybe we can break out," said Tal.He gripped the bars and pulled with all his might.The old drunk saw his efforts and hooted."Have to be a lot stronger'n you look to bend those bars, me lord."Tal sneered at the old man and kept pulling.The drunk laughed until he coughed, pointing at the ludicrous sight.The laughter stopped with a sudden hiccup when the old fellow saw the bars bend, ever so slightly
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