Greatshadow by James Maxey Page B

have our reasons for wanting to reach Greatshadow’s lair. The simplest path forward is to assist the king’s team. He’s assembled the finest warriors at his command, masters of both physical and spiritual warfare. Earlier this evening, you sought to hire the Three Goons. You’ll still be able to fight by their side; you just won’t have to pay their wages.”
    Infidel shook her head as she walked away from the hunchback. “I’m not really a team player. I could get along with the Goons for a couple of weeks, but put me together with a bunch of knights and priests and I kill someone.”
    “Indeed,” said the hunchback. “You’re perfectly suited to such a task.”
    Infidel toed around the shattered slivers of barrel that littered the floor.
    “You see a knife around here?” she asked. I saw she’d also lost my saber; it was probably out in the middle of the bay.
    The hunchback produced the blade from his pocket and held it toward her.
    “This knife belonged to your friend,” he said. “You think of it as your last link to him.”
    She scowled as she snatched the knife from his grasp. “What are you, some kind of mind-reader?”
    “Yes,” he said. “Your thoughts are not a secret from me, Infidel. I could deceive you and not reveal this fact. But, I want you to know that I am not without my talents. If we form a partnership, we each have something to gain.”
    Infidel kicked most of the muck off her leg, then slid the knife back into her boot. Dark sludge bubbled up around the hilt as it sank into the sheath. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not looking for any new friends.”
    “I’m not offering friendship, Infidel. Only an alliance.”
    She stared at him. “It seems unfair that you know my name, while you get to remain a mystery. Who the hell are you?”
    The hunchback chuckled. “Who indeed? As difficult as it may be to believe, I’ve lived my life without a name. I was cast out to die at birth.”
    “How tragic. But you still must have a name.” Infidel said. “A relic like you can’t have made it this far without someone calling you something.”
    “And yet, it is so.”
    “Well, today’s your lucky day. From now on, you’ll be called ‘Lumpy.’”
    The hunchback cocked his head, unsure if she was joking. I was pretty sure she wasn’t. Infidel didn’t like her own nickname much, and compensated by sticking others with bad ones. After her debut at the Black Swan , people called her Ripper and she liked it. Then, a month later, she’d been sitting at the bar when a wild-eyed man in a black robe burst through the door, shouted, “Infidel!” then broke his knife stabbing her in the back. The name might not have stuck, except the scene repeated itself about nine times over the next year. Everyone at the bar started calling her Infidel, and eventually I made the switch as well. She’s never volunteered what she did to piss off the fanatics, and I’ve never asked. The rule is, what happens outside Commonground, stays outside Commonground.
    The hunchback rubbed his chin as he contemplated his need for a sobriquet. “You called me a relic. This will suffice.”
    “Relic?” she said with a smirk. She thought it was a lousy name.
    The hunchback nodded.
    “Well, Relic, it’s nice meeting you, but it’s been a long day, and I’ve got a headache like you wouldn’t believe.”
    “I believe you,” said Relic. “I feel your pain.”
    “Whatever,” she said, heading toward the door with a dismissive wave. “Have fun on your dragon hunt.”
    “Lord Tower is leading the quest,” said Relic.
    Infidel froze in her tracks. Her eyes widened. I wasn’t surprised she knew who Lord Tower was; he was easily the most famous knight in the Shining Lands. Still, what did that matter to her?
    Relic said, “He’s carrying a weapon that can actually slay Greatshadow.”
    “Which one?” she asked, not looking back. “The Gloryhammer?”
    “Something much, much more dangerous.”
    Infidel