VIII. Steel on steel rang out into the warm Albertan night.
The full moon rode the sky, unobscured by any cloud. It shone down into a small alley in downtown Alberta, where two friends were locked in a mortal struggle against each other. No wind blew in from the sea. Everything waited in bated silence for the outcome of this fight.
Spinner struck aside Diradem's dagger, sending it whirling away into the dark corners of the alley.
Diradem dropped down to one knee, breathing hard, feebly warding away Spinner's unending thrusts. His clothes were cut in several places and he could feel the burning of a dozen tiny cuts, feel the potent venom coursing through his veins, feel his entire body weakening...
I must defeat him before he kills me, his thoughts ran wildly. But I can't...he's my friend.
Spinner looked down upon the young thief. His voice was choked with sadness. "You should have fought with poison, kid. That would have given you a chance."
Moonbeams caught the tears on Spinner's eyes, followed them down his face.
"I'm old, Dir. It won't make a difference if I die. But you--you're life's just beginning. You can make a difference. Argos venom works quickly through one's system. You've only got a few seconds left. This is your last chance," Spinner had stopped his attack; now, he raised his sabre high above him, two hands gripping the handle. And then he brought it arcing down.
Diradem had no choice. His life was failing, he needed an antidote fast, and Spinner was relentless. This is the only way to stop him.
Time seemed to slow down as the sabre fell down to finish him off. He reached into his left boot with his shield arm, pulled out the emveretarcon-sharpened dagger he kept as a spare weapon, and pushed a hidden catch on the pommel. As livid purple venom sprayed upon the blade, he brought it up in a smooth motion--
There's no time to hesitate, Diradem Tarkis!
--and buried it into Spinner's gut with a final burst of strength. The dagger plunged through the boiled leather of Spinner's armor. The sabre halted its deadly descent.
Spinner staggered back, clutching his stomach. "Anacondaq venom...very good, kid." His face contorted into a grimace of pain. The old thief dropped his sabre and fell to his knees. Then he keeled over.
Diradem crawled over to the old man. "Damn it, Spinner! It didn't have to be this way."
The old thief chuckled, coughing out blood. "Kid...listen...the Black Circle...this plan...you must stop it--"
"Don't talk, Old Man. Hold on. Izlude has antidotes with him. Maybe--" He cradled the Spinner's head onto his lap, searched around for something, anything!
"No, kid..." Old Man Spinner smiled with blood-flecked lips. "There's a...warehouse...the Shadows keep...an artifact there...destroy it...and the plan...will be stopped...They'll leave you alone, then...."
"Don't you die on me, Old Man--"
"Promise me...."
Tears rolled down Diradem's face. "No...hold on, Spinner!"
"You're...the son I never had..." A sudden coughing fit wracked the dying thief's prone form. "So tired, kid...so tired...." gasped Spinner as he closed his eyes and shuddered one last time. Then, he was still.
"Stupid old man...." Diradem cried as he held Spinner's lifeless body.
That artifact. I will destroy it. He had no idea what the artifact looked like, but he knew the Shadows kept a warehouse along the docks, a cache for smuggled goods. For Spinner.
But first he had to hurry back to Izlude's shop and drink some green potions.
He tried to get up but found that his legs had turned into jelly, his vision had began to dim. The argos venom...too late--!
As the adrenaline surge left his body, the poison took over. Diradem collapsed upon Spinner's corpse.
Far above the alley, the full moon disappeared behind dark clouds racing a sudden gale.
