And his sense of outrage at the injustices around him, the corruptions of the world, would wither in the unlit tunnels beneath Darujhistan. In the exactness of the methods of assassination, his final victim would be himself.
And this, more than anything, made his and Murillio's scheme the last act of humanity he'd ever make. Betrayal was the greatest of all crimes in Rallick's mind, for it took all that was human within a person and made it a thing of pain. In the face of that, murder itself was surcease: it was quick, and it ended the anguish and despair of a life without hope.
If all went as planned, Lady Sinital and those men who'd conspired with her in the betrayal of her husband, Lord Coll, would die. Could that right the wrong, could it even the scales of retribution? No, but it might return to a man his life and his hope.
For himself, Rallick, such gifts had long since been lost, and he was not the kind of man to stir the ashes. No embers survived, no flame could be born anew. Life belonged to other people, and his only claim to it was his power to take it from them. Nor would he recognize hope if it came to him. Too much a stranger, too long a ghost.
As he neared the inn's entrance, Rallick saw Crokus approaching from down the street. He increased his pace. “Crokus,” he called.
The boy flinched, then, seeing Rallick, he stopped and waited.
Rallick took his arm and steered him towards the alley without saying a word. Once in the shadows he tightened his grip, swung Crokus round and pulled him close. “Listen to me,” he hissed, his face inches from the boy's own astonished visage, “the Guild's best were slaughtered tonight. This isn't a game. You stay off the rooftops, do you understand me?”
Crokus nodded.
“And tell your uncle this. There's a Claw in the city.”
The boy's eyes widened.
“And,” Rallick continued, “there's someone else. Someone coming down from the sky, killing everything in sight.”
“Uncle Mammot?”
“Just tell him. And now listen carefully, Crokus. What I'm about to say is from me to you, one to one, understand?”
Crokus nodded again, his face pale.
“You stay on this path and you'll end up dead. I don't give a damn how exciting it all seems-what's excitement to you is desperation to others. Stop feeding off the city's lifeblood, lad. There's no hero's role in sucking others dry. Am I understood?”
“Yes,” Crokus whispered.