Blood of the Fold

It was too late for her now. He cocked his legs to kick her back, but in a confusion of sensations and realizations, Richard felt the presence of a mriswith, and at nearly the same time, he saw it materialize as it dove through the air above him.

And then the world went red. He felt warm blood splatter his face as he saw the filmy nightdress slashed open; severed edges of diaphanous material fluttered as if in a blast of wind. The three blades ripped Cathryn nearly in two. The mriswith crashed to the floor beyond.

Richard spun out from underneath her and sprang to his feet as she toppled back, the shocking gore ot her insides sloshing across the carpet. Her terrible gasps died out in heaving pants.

Richard crouched, his feet and his hands spread, facing the mriswith on the other side of her. The mriswith had a three-bladed knife in each claw. Between them Cathryn writhed in the agony of death.

The mriswith took a step back toward the window, its beady eyes staying on Richard. It took another step, drawing its black cape over one scaled arm as its gaze swept the room.

Richard dove for his sword. He slid to a stop as the mriswith planted a clawed foot atop the scabbard, holding it to the floor.

"No," it hissed. "She was going to killssss you."

"The same as you!"

"No. I protectssss you, skin brother."

Dumbfounded, Richard stared up at the dark shape. The mriswith flung the cape around itself and dove through the window into the night, vanishing as it leapt. Richard lunged toward the window to grab it. His arms caught only air as he landed across the windowsill, hanging halfway out into the night. The mriswith was gone. He could no longer feel its presence in his mind.

In the emptiness left by the departure of the mriswith, Richard's mind filled with the mental image of Cathryn squirming in a mass of her guts. He vomited out the window.

When his racking heaves finished, and his head stopped spinning, he staggered back to where she iay to kneel beside her. He thanked the spirits that she was dead, and no longer suffered. Even if she had tried to kill him, he couldn't stand to watch her suffering in the throes of death.

He stared at her face. He couldn't imagine the feelings he had had for her that he now only dimly remembered. She was just an ordinary woman. But she had been shrouded in magic. It was some son of spell that had overpowered his reason. He had come to his senses with no time to spare. His gift had broken the spell.

The top half of her slashed nightdress was thrown up around her neck. A cold feeling that gave him goose bumps turned his attention to her breasts. Richard's eyes narrowed, and he leaned closer, staring. He reached out and touched her right nipple. He touched the left. It wasn't the same.

He carried a lamp to the fire and lit it with a long splinter of kindling. He returned to the body and held the lamp near her left breast. Richard wet his thumb on his tongue and rubbed the smooth nipple. It came off. With her nightdress, he cleaned the paint from her breast, to leave a smooth, unbroken mound of skin. Cathryn had no left nipple.

The calm center within radiated an aura of comprehension. This was connected to the spell she had over him. He didn't know how, but it was.

Richard suddenly sat back on his heels. He sal a moment, wide-eyed, and then sprang up, running to the door. He stopped. Why should he be thinking this? He had to be wrong.

What if he wasn't?

He opened the door just enough to slip through and then shut it behind himself. Egan glanced his way, his arms still folded, and resumed his stance. Richard peered down the hall, to Berdine, in her red leather, leaning against the wall. She was watching him.

Richard crooked his finger, gesturing her to come to him. She straightened and then strolled up the hall. Berdine glanced to the door as she stopped before him. She frowned up to his eyes.

'"The duchess wishes to be with you. Go back to her."

"Go get Cara and Raina, and the three of you get back here." His voice took on the heat of his glower. "Right now."

"Is something — "

"Right now!"

She looked to the door again and then strode off without further word. When she had disappeared around the hall at the end of the corridor, Richard turned to Egan, who was again watching him.

"Why did you let her come into my room?"

Egan's brow wrinkled in puzzlement. He lifted a hand toward the door. "Well… the way she is… dressed. She said you wanted her tonight, and that you told her to put that on and come to you." Egan cleared his throat. "It was obvious why you wanted her. I thought you would be angry if I kept her from you after you had told her to come to you in the night."

Richard turned the knob and flung open the door. He held his arm out in invitation. Egan hesitated and then entered.