Dahlia's Turn: The Party
"One day, Lord Rahl sent one of his Mord'Sith to go undercover at a party. It was held by a great Lord, or a man who thought he was a great Lord, and in his palace, there was no sickness, no suffering, no flaw—or so people said.
"That's impossible," Garen protested, but Cara shushed her, and Dahlia went on:
"So the Mord'Sith dressed in a gown fit for a princess, and hid her agiels where she might reach them easily—"
"In a princess's gown?" Denna scoffed. "Not likely."
Dahlia watched as Cara and Denna glared at one another. Cara's earnest defense warmed Dahlia at the same time it irritated her—she was a helpless child no longer, and she didn't need Cara's endless mothering.
But she was determined to hold the other young Mord'Sith's interest, just as Denna had done, so she continued:
"The so-great Lord was a fool, the Mord'Sith soon realized. His court might be lucky, but he had no extraordinary power she could report to Lord Rahl. The other, minor lords and ladies were occupied only with frivolous concerns, and they eyed her with an interest she did not return.
"She was ready to leave, and dress again in the comfort of her leathers, but as she turned to the door, a tall, dark, hooded figure accosted her. His hand on her arm was cold as ice, and the Mord'Sith was intrigued.
"Without speaking, the cold man led the Mord'Sith back into the dance. She followed his lead, straining her every sense to learn his identity and purpose. At last, she said, 'You are Death,' for she had seen through his disguise.
"Death?" Garen said uncertainly. "You mean the Keeper?"
"The Keeper created Death," Triana said impatiently. "They're not one and the same."
Dahlia raised her voice. "And Death saw that the Mord'Sith knew him, and he was surprised, because no other mortal in the palace had sensed his presence. 'Will you beg for your life?' he asked.
"The Mord'Sith tossed her hair, wishing for her braid, and said contemptuously, 'Our fears do make us traitors—Mord'Sith. Do not. Beg.'
They all had a slightly twisted smile for that—Cara, Triana, Garen, and even Denna. Dahlia allowed her own lips to quirk upward—just a little.
"Death was impressed with the Mord'Sith's courage. Knowing that she didn't fear him put him on his mettle, and he said, 'Then begone from this place, knowing that we will meet again—on a battlefield, in a sickroom, beside a throne—I will always be at your shoulder.'
"But the Mord'Sith only laughed, for she had felt Death at her shoulder since she was a little girl, and this shade could not frighten her.
"She left the palace and returned to Lord Rahl and her Sisters.
"Soon, word came that the great Lord and all his guests had been struck down, taken by the Keeper. They had thought to outrun Death."
The Mord'Sith's cruel laughter filled the room.