The birds were calling frantically, circling, some already escaping out the open window.
Caris saw Nora’s hand raise, her fist and knife dark against the light for an instant, until it plunged down.
There was a grunt, male, low and pained.
Mira’s blade was out as well. She dropped to her knees near Nora. Blocked by the desk, all Caris could see was the rise and fall of their daggers. All that could be heard were the wet sounds of knife thrusts.
Avice had closed the door and thrown the lock. She stood calmly, watching. “Enough,” she finally said. “Dead?”
“Dead,” Mira said.
Nora stood, breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on her skin, satisfaction written all over her face.
Avice stepped forward then and Caris followed. The last of the songbirds were gone, flown away, and cold air spilled into the room from the open window.
“You might have avoided the face,” Avice observed. “Hard to display the body and claim a heart attack now.”
“Well, his heart did fail,” Mira chirped, and they all chuckled.
Caris felt herself relax at the old joke. “His robes seem to have soaked up all the blood,” she said. “No splatters on you. Even the floor seems clean.”
Nora and Mira checked themselves over then knelt to wipe their blades on the thick cloth.
“Best we take care of the body ourselves—” Avice said but an unfamiliar noise caused them all to stiffen. “What was that?”
The body shifted slightly. Something hissed from its mouth.
“What?” Nora pulled Mira away.
“Back,” Avice barked.
Something dark oozed out, covering the mutilated face. There was a hissing sound as the body twisted. An evil black cloud rose, carrying a foul stench, driving them all back.
Avice ran to the door, throwing the bolt and opening it wide. The warm air of the hall flowed in, creating a draft.
The smoke dissipated, although the putrid smell hung in the air. Mira was retreating, coughing, but Nora was focused on the body. “It’s…melting,” she said in fascinated horror.
Caris covered her nose and mouth and risked stepping closer.
The body was collapsing in on itself, the robes glistening with the wetness of blood and something far more slimy. The entire mass seemed to writhe, forming an oozing, festering pile. The silver chains lay glinting in the mess, which dissolved into a disgusting puddle, bubbling on the stone floor. As the Bondmaidens watched, it dried and dissipated and faded away.
Leaving nothing but the glistening chains.
They stood there, speechless, looking at one another and the floor.
“That was—” Mira grimaced.
“Fascinating,” Nora chimed in. “Even his robes are gone. Do you suppose that happens every time you kill a mage?”
Caris frowned at her, knowing full well her thought. “Don’t you dare kill that blood mage just to find out.”
Nora shrugged.
“Well,” Avice said, looking out into the hall before closing the door. “Apparently we don’t have to dispose of the body.”
Other than the broken birdcage and some shifted furniture, there were no signs there had been a struggle. She nudged the chains with her toe.
“All right, then,” Avice said, sounding more confident, “we need to report. We should take the chains.”
