Korlys Evens the Score

Korlys was crouched on a rooftop, waiting in the late evening gloom. One hand was curled loosely around the heavy metal object in his pocket. It was a little bigger than the palm of his hand, and he ran his thumb over the cold metal, tracing the design that had been worked into it, a design he'd become intimately familiar with in the months that had passed since his first trip to Denerim.

The door of the tavern opened - right on time. He silently watched a Templar make his way down a cobblestone road. He'd been shadowing the man for days now, looking for patterns. Like most people, the Templar was a creature of habit, which made his mission so much easier.

The ex-Crow had been meticulous about identifying his marks, spending more time than he'd originally planned - he'd already been in Denerim over a week - but it was critical to identify not only the correct men but the order in which he'd deal with them.

It wasn't too hard to single out the ringleader - Mario had uttered the name 'Ser Piers' in his nightmares often enough. Most of the other Templars didn't seem to like him or spend much time with him, but there were two who did, and it was Korlys' experience that most people didn't change associations very often.

He silently shadowed the man, waiting until the Templar was near a particular area he'd scouted out ahead of time. It was very close to the little hovel set at the end of a dirty back alley he'd been renting while here. It was the perfect spot for what he had in mind - sparsely populated, and the few residents who were there were the sort who minded their own business.

Choking the man until he passed out was child's play, but carrying him back to the hovel proved a bit harder. Korlys thanked the Maker the Templar didn't have his armour on as he dumped him onto the filthy floor and locked the door behind them. He wrestled the unconscious man onto a plain wooden chair and secured him tightly, each ankle lashed to a chair leg, thighs secured tightly to the seat, hands tied together at the wrists behind his back, and chest bound to the chair's back for good measure.

The fire he'd stoked before going out that evening had burned low, but the embers still glowed brightly - plenty hot enough for what he had in mind. Once the elf was satisfied with his rope work, he took the object out of his pocket and placed the flat end of it in the embers, taking care that the wooden handle stayed well away from the coals. He turned back around and stared at the man thoughtfully for a while before deciding to gag him too. When the ex-Crow had planned this little trip, he'd thought he would enjoy listening to them scream and beg. Now that he was here, however, he found that the process of locking away everything but the assassin part of him had turned him cold, and he preferred to execute his plan without listening to their babbling.

Done with the gag, Korlys sat down on a little stool next to the Templar. As he waited, his mind went back to the note he'd left for Mario the night he'd slipped away.

Caro,

By the time you find this, I will be far away. I am sorry I cannot explain now, but I have some business I must take care of, and I need to do that alone. Please honor my wishes and do not attempt to follow me, even if you find this letter much sooner than anticipated. I promise you, I will be back by your side as soon as I can.

Yours,

Korlys

The note had to be deliberately vague, because if his lover had any inkling of where he was going, he would follow, regardless of his request or the destination. He could only hope that Mario wouldn't come to the conclusion that he'd left to deal with his former master. The thought made him uncomfortable, but there was no way the other elf could accompany him. He wouldn't have minded that Korlys planned to murder the men who'd gang raped him, but as strong as Mario was in certain ways, he wouldn't have the stomach to do what was necessary - what justice demanded. Considering all that Mario had suffered, and continued to suffer in the wake of that night, no death short of death by torture would satisfy him. As it was, they would not spend the months in a torture chamber they would have in an ideal world. But, you took what you could get, yes?

Ah, he is coming around. Korlys watched the Templar struggle to open his eyes, then blink a few times. The glassy look in them was rapidly replaced by confusion, and then, as the man took in his surroundings and noticed the assassin observing him, by fear. Good. At least he wasn't too stupid to be afraid. Korlys went to fetch the object he'd brought with him. The assassin used tongs to pull it out - better to let the handle cool a little before holding it, just in case. Safety first and all, he thought with a malicious grin.

"Do you recognize this shape?" Korlys asked, as he turned to the man and held up the white-hot metal. He'd gotten the blacksmith on the ship to make it secretly from a sketch he'd made of Mario's tattoo. The image was that of a cat, sitting down but looking over his shoulder at the viewer. Pounce, the thief had said, when Korlys had asked why a cat. They sometimes called me Pounce. Korlys hurriedly stuffed that memory down into a far corner of his mind.

"You should," he continued. The Templar's eyes bulged and beads of sweat popped out onto his brow - whether from recognition or simply having a brand that close to his face was hard to tell. Korlys really didn't care which - this was a message meant for Piers, anyway. He thought the man might be smart enough to make a connection once the bodies of his friends had been discovered, but he wanted to make sure he knew which victim this was payback for. The brand would create scar tissue, possibly obscuring the shape, if the skin was given time to heal. But since it would not, Korlys was satisfied that the design would be clean and easily recognizable, especially to someone who had been behind Mario for a while. Rage threatened to boil up at that thought, but he suppressed it. He needed to stay as calm and clear-headed as possible - nothing would come between him and his mission.

oOo

The effect of the body's discovery on the citizenry was far beyond what he'd imagined. It was only then that Korlys realized he had misjudged the public - they weren't nearly as jaded as Antivans were. And, to be fair, he'd gone above and beyond what even most Crows would have, leaving the body naked and mutilated on the Templar barracks' doorstep. He'd grinned diabolically at the thought of Piers' reaction when they found the body's missing appendages in its mouth, but had neglected to take into account that the average citizen would have no clue as to motive, and therefore, no feeling of safety that information could have brought. The next night, he found all activity shutting down the moment the sun passed the horizon, and bars closing early for lack of customers. The assassin had turned in early that night.

oOo

Korlys had expected the Templars would be like angry hornets whose nest had been disturbed, and they had been: scouring the city for the perpetrator; wearing their armour off duty and on; and even going so far as to vary their routes. But that hyper-vigilance could only be maintained for so long, and Denerim was a port city - strangers came and went with regularity, and the fact that a ship had set sail the very morning the body was discovered helped calm the populace faster than they otherwise would have.

As the days stretched into weeks, most of the citizenry fell back into their familiar routines. Not Piers, though. It appeared the man needed no more clues to intuit motive - perhaps he was more intelligent than Korlys had expected. More likely, he just had the well-honed instinct for self-preservation common to all animals. At any rate, the Templar had become hyper-vigilant.

But that was fine with Korlys, because he was saving Piers for last. And the next man on his list wasn't nearly so feral, slipping back into complacency as quickly as the rest of them.

oOo

Korlys sat in a shadowy corner of The Pearl, nursing an ale. He'd been there long enough for the girls to realize he wasn't interested in anything else and move on to more lucrative customers. In truth, he wasn't interested in the ale, either, but it wouldn't do to stick out. Not that it was likely he'd attract much attention from the other patrons anyway - they had other things on their mind. But he would leave nothing to chance if it was in his power to control it.

His gaze roamed the around the room, scanning his environment for anything unusual, anything out of place. His Crow training had ingrained the habit of looking for potential threats so thoroughly into him that it was almost unconscious. Most of his attention was concentrated on the front door, but for that he listened, not looked, and since most humans didn't know - or care - that elven hearing far surpassed theirs, he didn't appear to be waiting for someone.

There he is. As predictable as the sunrise, this one. The assassin watched as the Templar made his way to one corner of the bar and ordered a scotch neat. He'd have to move quickly - the blond never seemed to linger too long up front once he'd made his selection. The bartender set a drink next to the man as Sanga started to line up several women for the Templar's inspection. Korlys got up and started making his way towards the bar, one hand in his pocket. He timed it perfectly, arriving next to the Templar only after his attention was fully engaged elsewhere.

As Korlys ordered an Antivan brandy, he slipped the stopper off the vial in his hand. As soon as the bartender turned to grab the bottle from one of the shelves behind him, the assassin poured the contents into the Templar's glass and returned the now empty vial to his pocket.

"Grazie," he said, as he placed his money on the bar. Korlys returned to his seat and waited. It wasn't long before the scotch was finished and the Templar's selection made - a pretty little red-haired girl. As the pair headed to the back, Korlys slipped into the shadows and followed long enough to see which room the couple retired to, then went back to his waiting. The potion he'd slipped into the man's drink acted much like a standard sleeping potion but took a while longer to kick in. Hopefully long enough so that his unconsciousness would seem to the girl to be simply post-sex napping. Korlys doubted Sanga would let the man doze for long - she couldn't afford to tie up the room all night - but he wouldn't need much time.

Impatience made the wait seem longer than it actually was, but finally the redhead came back out, and Korlys slipped into the shadows again. He was in the room, door locked behind him, in less than a minute. The assassin stood motionless in the dark for a moment, listening carefully to the Templar's breathing. Satisfied the man was out, he moved to the window and opened it. He made sure no one was in the alley, then dragged the Templar to the window, not bothering to dress him.

Thankful the blond was thinner and shorter than the first Templar, Korlys lowered him out as gently as possible. The assassin climbed out of the window after him, then hoisted the man over his shoulders like a sack of grain and slipped into the night.

oOo

This time, Korlys didn't bother to wait for his mark to regain consciousness - he'd let a red-hot piece of metal be his wake-up call. As soon as the man was securely tied and gagged, he carefully picked up up the brand and applied it to the Templar's forehead.

The effect was instantaneous - the man's eyes flew open so widely it was grotesque. His screams were loud even with the gag, and his body jerked against his bonds so forcefully the chair itself shook. Korlys removed the brand and set it aside as the sickly-sweet smell of burning flesh filled the air, nauseating him. The Templar didn't stop his muffled screaming, of course. That was the thing with burns, they just kept on burning, even after the original source of heat was gone.

But the same thing had happened with his first mark, so he wasn't surprised by it. He steeled himself, holding the memories of all Mario's nightmares, all the fears that still plagued him, in the forefront of his mind, as he wrapped a bandana around his face to help with the smell and got on with his work.

oOo

Korlys returned to the hovel after placing what was left of the body on the Templars' doorstep. He poured some of the water he'd drawn from a community well into a small basin and washed his face and hands, carefully averting his gaze from the little mirror hanging above it as he did so. Then he washed his clothes out and cleaned up all traces of blood around the meager room. Dawn was breaking as the assassin finished up, dumping the last bucketful of bloody water into the gutter that ran down the alley. Exhausted, he closed the door behind him, sat down on the narrow bed, and looked across the room at the small pantry where he'd stored the food purchased upon his arrival in Denerim. Mindful of the Crows that were still hunting him, Korlys had gotten enough supplies to last the whole stay to minimize the time he spent out in public during the day. But he found he didn't have any appetite, so he downed a few swallows of cheap brandy instead, wincing at the burning sensation it caused going down his throat. Then he stretched out onto the bed to wait out the long hours of daylight.

oOo

The Antivan was considering turning in early - the discovery of the second body had stripped the populace of any hope that the murderer had fled, and the streets were virtually deserted - when he noticed a small boy in one of the alleyways near the Templars' barracks. Given the citizens' current state of mind, it was curious enough for Korlys to creep closer to get a better look.

From what he could see, the kid looked to be ten or eleven, and didn't seem to be a member of one of the thieves' guilds - his clothes, although not expensive, were not nearly as shabby as the ones the thieves wore. The boy was carrying what looked to be a ... kitchen knife? ... and was moving as though he was trying to sneak up on someone, although Korlys could sense no one nearby. As he stepped out more fully into the light of one of the street lamps, the assassin got a good look at his face. He looks a lot like Mario. The resemblance was eerily familiar. He's about the right age. Could it be Mario's little brother, Cory? How likely was it that he would run across him in a city as large as Denerim? But...maybe he thinks Mario is responsible. Maybe he wanted to get in touch with his brother if it really was him. Speaking to the boy would be a risk, but Korlys was wearing his cloak and could easily hide his face in the shadow of the hood. If it turned out not to be Cory, the kid couldn't see him, and therefore, couldn't identify him to the Templars or city guards anyway.

Decided, Korlys pulled his hood over his head and sneaked behind the kid, but not too close. As it is, he'd probably scare the boy, who really was being an idiot, walking around in dark alleys with only a kitchen knife while a killer roamed Denerim.

As softly as he could, he called out, "Cory?"

The boy spun around. "Mario?" he whispered hopefully, but the next moment his brows furrowed, and he raised his knife. "Who the hell are you? How do you know my name?"

"You look just like Mario, so I assumed you would be his little brother, Cory," Korlys said.

"You know him?" The boy lowered his knife. "Is he here? Can you take me to him? Please!"

Alarmed, Korlys said, "Lower your voice. I do know him, but he is not in Denerim, and no, I cannot take you to him. I approached you because I just wanted you to know that Mario was not involved in what happened to the two Templars." He wasn't sure what to do next - that's all he'd really wanted to say. Was there anything else he could do for him?

"But that's his tattoo on the Templars' bodies. I recognize it," the boy said miserably. "When he left, everyone said it was because he killed someone, and now this. But Mario's not a killer, he's not!" Cory's voice trembled as if he was on the verge of tears, but at least he was keeping his voice down.

"No, he is not a killer. Mario is a good man," Korlys said soothingly. "I cannot explain everything to you, I am afraid. Just know he has nothing to do with this, and in fact, is not even aware of it." The first part was a bit of a lie, considering how many men Mario had killed, but that was more because of Korlys than any other reason. And he had good reasons for killing his guildmaster. But Cory did not need to know any of that.

The boy nodded. "You met him after he left?" he asked. "Is he okay?"

Korlys did want to tell Cory some things about Mario - enough to reassure him anyway - but staying here this long was foolishness, and he couldn't afford to endanger his mission, even for Mario's brother. He hesitated. "It is not safe to stay on the street. However, if you follow me to someplace a little safer, I will tell you about him." The assassin realized how that sounded - and frankly, coming from any other man's mouth, it probably would be exactly how it sounded. But, he didn't have time to reassure the boy; he would either follow or not. Korlys turned and made his way quickly to the roof of a nearby building.

Cory hesitated, but then followed after Korlys, who he found sitting with his back to a chimney. "Tell me all," he said breathlessly.

"I cannot tell you everything, but Mario is doing well. He will probably be angry when he finds out I met you. I did not tell him I was coming to Denerim, but I know he would have wanted to give you a message if he had known." Korlys regretted that, but he couldn't take the chance that Mario wouldn't follow. "He talked about you a lot, though, and it is easy to see he loves you and worries about you. If you told me about yourself, maybe I could bring word back to Mario to reassure him that you are fine. He is mostly afraid that you will not stay in school, or that you will become a thief. He wants better for you. Are you still with your Aunt Dinah?"

The boy gave an exasperated little laugh. "Stupid Mario, always worrying about me. I made him a promise, and I'm still keeping it. I am going to school, and I'm still an apprentice as a carpenter...it's him who broke his promise and left me. Tell him that I'm waiting for him and I don't believe the lies they tell about him, but he owes me big!"

Mario would be cut to the quick to hear that his little brother was still waiting for him, Korlys knew. Perhaps he would leave that bit out of it...assuming Mario would even want anything to do with him when he returned. "I will tell him," Korlys promised. "Mario did not want to leave, I do know that, although I cannot give you any more details. But he will be glad to hear that you are still in school and learning to become a carpenter."

Korlys hesitated again. He knew Mario would wish for him to give his brother some money to help out, but perhaps he hadn't thought it through. It was possible that his aunt would assume Cory had stolen it or made the money in some unsavory way. No, best not to take that chance. Mario's brother seemed well clothed and well-fed, which was better than a lot of kids his age. And he had stayed in one place long enough.

"I have to be going now, Cory," Korlys said as he got to his feet. "But, please keep this meeting just between the two of us. I took a great risk speaking with you tonight." The Antivan paused. Cory might let something slip if he found himself in a situation where he was defending his brother's honor, but he didn't know Korlys' name or what he looked like. Besides, the assassin planned to be out of Denerim as soon as his work was done, and he wouldn't be returning.

"If you would like, you can leave a letter in the place where Mario always used to leave things for you, and I will pick it up on my way out of Denerim and deliver it to him." That would be much safer than trying to rendezvous with the boy - for both of them. "I am sure he will get a message back to you sooner or later if he can, but you must realize it could be months from now." It would take a few more days, at least, to conclude his business here, and he wasn't sure how long it would be until he could catch up to Mario again, especially if they had moved on. But Korlys was confident he could at least track the thief down.

Cory frowned, confused. "Mario can't read," he said suspiciously.

"Well, I could read it to him and write the reply, if he needs me to. But, he has been learning to read and write - a friend of ours is teaching him - so he may be able to do that all by himself," Korlys replied.

"Really?" Cory's face lit up. "That's great! I'll leave it in the tree first thing in the morning before I go to school! But tell him he must write back, okay?"

"I will," Korlys promised, then he slipped away before the boy could say anything else.

oOo

The next few nights were just as fruitless, and he found himself dreading the long days of fitful dozing punctuated by nightmares - disjointed memories of his 'seduction training' as a senior apprentice mixed up with imagined scenes of Mario's rape, with a chaotic hodgepodge of the torture he'd endured a few weeks ago and the events of his current mission thrown in like a deranged menagerie.

All Korlys wanted to do now was get back to Amaranthine - to Mario. He had already been away longer than he'd expected to. Every day increased his anxiety and the urge to leave. Would they even still be there? Would Mario hate him for slipping away with only a note?

The assassin pulled on his boots and slipped his daggers into their sheaths, carefully checking to make sure he had all he needed. With a weary sigh, he opened the door and slipped out into the night.

oOo

The chapel was dim, lit mostly by a bank of candles at an altar in the front of the room. Behind and slightly higher than the candles was a statute of Andraste, her arms open wide as if to hug the penitent. There were wooden pews on each side of a central aisle, and in intervals along the sides of the room were lamps burning low. Perfect for an assassin.

The man he'd followed was kneeling in front of the candles, his head bowed, and Korlys could hear a low murmur coming from him, but couldn't make out the words. The assassin crept up the aisle, sticking closely to one set of pews and listening for any sounds that might indicate someone else was coming.

When he was little more than arm's length away, Korlys stopped. It sounded like the Templar was weeping quietly and praying to Andraste. He was repeating variations of the same phrases over and over as if by his persistence he could force her hand: "Sweet Andraste, if you'll protect me I will be a new man, I swear. I'll never touch another kid again, I promise. Please just keep me safe."

As far as Korlys was concerned, Piers had put himself beyond the reach of redemption the moment he'd put his hands on Mario. Unwilling to wait any longer - although the hour was late, there was no guarantee a Sister with a bout of insomnia might not come to the chapel to pray, or another late-night penitent searching for absolution - the assassin slowly drew his stiletto from his boot. It was coated with a fast-acting but short-lived poison that would put the Templar into a deep sleep. There wasn't much of it, so he'd saved it for this monster. Korlys closed the remaining distance soundlessly, then clamped one hand around the man's mouth while simultaneously pricking his neck. It only took a few seconds before Piers was rendered unconscious, but his struggles made more noise than Korlys was comfortable with due to the Templar's heavy armour, which the man had refused to put off ever since Korlys had dumped the first body in front of their barracks.

The assassin quickly stripped off Piers' armour and hoisted him around his shoulders. Draping the man across his upper back, he hooked an arm around the Templar's right leg, grabbing his arm in a fireman's carry. It allowed him to keep one hand free, although it was his non-dominant side. Still, it would be enough.

He didn't relax until he was safely back in the meager little room with the door locked and Piers tied securely to the chair. Korlys put the brand into the fire for one last time, then sat and waited. He'd stripped Piers' clothes off, since he'd discovered with the last Templar that it made his work a whole lot easier.

It wasn't long before Piers regained consciousness. Korlys saw fear in the man's eyes to be sure, but unlike the other two, they also held a craftiness, as if he'd grasped the situation immediately, and was already evaluating his options and estimating the odds of success for each of them.

The assassin didn't bother informing him that the odds were zero, or that he was in the hands of a Crow, because none of that really mattered. Korlys had all night, and sooner or later the hopelessness of his position would become apparent. The only thing that did matter to him at this point was making sure that Piers knew Mario was the reason he was here.

And for that, he would have to remove the man's gag. But not yet. No, first Korlys wanted to make Piers suffer. He might have all night, but every second of it still wouldn't be long enough, in Korlys' opinion.

Early middle-age had started to balloon the Templar's stomach out into a potbelly, albeit a small one. Korlys applied the brand there first and was gratified to see that calculating look in the man's eyes obliterated by overwhelming pain.

Korlys waited patiently for the muffled screams to taper off. Once he judged Piers to be sufficiently in control of himself to be able to listen, he raised the brand so that the Templar could get a good look. "You have seen this symbol before, in a different context, have you not?" The man nodded, breathing heavily, sweat running down his face in little rivers. Korlys continued. "I am going to remove your gag, and when I do, I only want to hear one thing - where you have seen this before. If I hear anything else - pleas, bribes, promises, lies - I will use it again. Do you understand?" A more vigorous nod this time. "Bene." The assassin loosened the cloth tied around the man's mouth and pulled out the gag.

It was clear Piers was reluctant to incriminate himself, but believed Korlys enough to be too afraid to lie. "It looks like a tattoo I once saw."

"Where did you see it?" came the quiet question.

The man licked his lips, his breath still coming in little gasps, as if he'd run a long distance. "It...it was on a thief named Mario."

"And?" Korlys prompted.

Here Piers' face crumpled. Tears filled his eyes and started running down his face, mingling with sweat. "Please," he whined.

The assassin held the red-hot brand less than an inch from the man's belly.

"Okay, okay!" the Templar yelled, sucking in his stomach as hard as he could. "I spent the night-" Closer now, and the sound and smell of singeing hair filled the air. "I mean raped, okay? He wouldn't have sex with me so I raped him but I'm sorry I'm a changed man I'll never do that again I swear please just let me go." Piers' words ran together in his eagerness to get them out.

"Never do it again?" The coldness in Korlys' voice gave no hint of the fury suddenly raging within him, but every muscle tensed as he struggled to stay in control. The assassin concentrated on regulating his breathing to calm himself. "I can guarantee that, at least."

As Korlys set the brand aside and prepared to replace the gag, Piers babbled, "No! Wait! Wait! Who hired you? I'll pay you double. No triple! Do you want gold? I have gold! You can have it all! I swear! I'll give you anything you want, just tell me what you want!"

"All I want is to see you suffer and die," was Korlys' automatic reply, as if it had been pre-programmed into him. Suddenly he was back on the ship, strapped to a board and hanging upside down, listening to Velasco and his apprentice discuss him as impersonally as if he were a piece of furniture. Nothing prepares you for being in the hands of men who mean to hurt and ultimately kill you. Nothing, he'd thought as he'd discovered how useless his Crow training had been to prepare him for this. He felt the burning sensation of seawater flooding his throat and sinuses again, the desperate struggle for air.

NO! Korlys heard himself say - whether it was aloud or just a thought, he couldn't be sure. He looked at Piers, who, he suddenly realized, was screaming for help, staring at him and pressing himself against the chair with all his might as if to somehow increase the distance between them.

Korlys turned to look behind him, wondering in his confusion what had terrified Piers so much, and caught a glimpse of himself in the tiny mirror above the washbasin. A gaunt face stared back at him, dark half-moons under black eyes which widened in horror as it dawned on him that he was the monster he'd fought so hard not to become, no better than Velasco. Nonononono! his mind screamed at him as he fought to breathe.

Move! The voice of his allenatore cut through his panic as self-preservation kicked in. No matter how reluctant the residents might be to call the guards, even they weren't likely to ignore the loud screaming for long, especially given the other two murders. Korlys turned on his heels, and without further thought, pulled out his dagger and slashed the man's throat so deeply he felt the blade skitter across bone.

In the abrupt silence, Korlys could hear a dog barking in the distance. It punctuated his movements as he mechanically wiped the blood off his blades and his hands. He grabbed his pack and shoved the few things he wanted into it, deliberating a moment before adding a loaf of bread in with the brandy. He couldn't imagine ever being hungry again, but it was a two-day journey to Amaranthine and his funds were low.

As Korlys shouldered his pack, his gaze fell on the brand lying near the hearth. It was still way too hot to conceal, but he suddenly didn't want to leave it here. Not quite sure why - it was still emitting a dim glow, and thus would be a threat to his escape - he picked it up, and after a quick glance out the door, slipped into the darkness.

oOo

It took longer than it normally would for Korlys to make his way to the docks, but he couldn't afford a single slip now. He flung the brand as far as he could into the sea, turning away as it hit the water.

Korlys stopped briefly at the little cove Mario had used as a hideout before fleeing Denerim. He retrieved Cory's letter and tucked it carefully into his pack, then followed the outer walls of the city northward until he came to some stables owned by the same man he'd hired to bring him here.

Arrangements made, Korlys climbed onto the wagon and drew his cloak around him to ward off the cold, damp air blowing off the sea. There were still several hours left to the night as they got underway, the driver urging the horses to a fast but sustainable pace. Although his body felt heavy, Korlys' mind whirled, a mixed jumble of thoughts and emotions tumbling around as if propelled by hurricane-force winds. The only constant in it all was a cold dread in the pit of his stomach. The storm threatened to overwhelm him if given half a chance, so he carefully beat it back and locked it away, refusing to think or even look at it.

There was no point in dwelling on it now, anyway. Or ever, really. What was done was done. Better just to concentrate on getting back to Amaranthine as quickly as possible. Korlys dug the cheap brandy out of his pack and took a few swallows, this time glad to have the rough burning in his throat to focus on as he planned his next moves. It had been almost four weeks since he'd left, and there were still two days of travel in front of him. He had to be prepared for the fact that Mario and the crew were very unlikely to still be in Amaranthine when he arrived. And even if they were, surely Mario would hate him - in his thirst to wreak vengeance, he'd become the very thing the other elf despised.

But as much as Korlys dreaded that possibility, he had to know for sure, had to see for himself that the ship was gone. He would find out when they'd left, make a little more money, hire someone to take him to the next port they'd planned to visit, or the next. He took another swig, hoping it would melt the heavy lump of ice lying in the pit of his belly. After all, I promised to deliver Cory's letter to Mario, Korlys thought, the chill in his stomach refusing to budge. It was a perfectly valid reason for pursuing them. Then, he would see if Mario's feelings changed for him once he found out. And if so? I can walk away, he told himself. I can just walk away.

Allenatore - trainer

Caro - dear

Grazie - thank you

AN - Korlys is one of the main characters in A Crow, a Rat, and a Sparrow: Freedom's Shadow, co-written as ShebaVentis with Ventisquear, one of my closest friends and the author of my all-time favorite story, Failed To Fail!

I owe a special debt of gratitude to her for contributing Mario's little brother, Cory, to the story. Thank you so much! I can't imagine KEtS without that scene! *hugs*

I also want to thank the two authors who beta read this for me - dragonmactir and Oleander's One. I really appreciate you guys!