by Tim Waggoner
Meanwhile, Sinnoch had recovered from Ksana’s strike and had managed to rake the half-elf with his claws several times, and she was bleeding from gashes on her arm, neck, and chest. The dolgaunt’s hideous mouth was stretched in a bloodthirsty grin as he moved in on Ksana, claws outstretched, prepared to deliver a killing strike.
Blood loss had taken its toll on the cleric, but though she was weak, Ksana drew herself up to her full height, gripped her halberd tightly and shouted, “For Dol Arrah!” The axe head of her weapon flared with brilliant white light and as Sinnoch attacked, Ksana swung the halberd and buried the axe head in the dolgaunt’s neck. Sinnoch stiffened as the holy light of Ksana’s patron goddess flowed from the halberd and into his body. Beams of light shot forth from his eyeless sockets and poured out of his open mouth. His body began to shrivel up, as if it was being cooked from within. Lirra expected to hear the dolgaunt scream as he died, but instead he laughed uproariously, as if his death was the funniest thing he could imagine. Sinnoch’s laughter cut off abruptly and then the dry, lifeless husk of his desiccated body fell to the cave floor.
Elidyr looked at the dolgaunt’s corpse. “A pity that he won’t get to witness Ysgithyrwyn’s arrival, but at least he went out laughing. And speaking of Ysgithyrwyn …” Despite his imprisonment in the copper shell, Elidyr could still turn his head, and he glanced over his shoulder. The corrupt light that heralded the daelkyr’s arrival was much larger, and its sour yellow-green color was beginning to overpower the multicolored light given off by the Overmantle.
Elidyr turned back around to face Lirra and smiled. “It won’t be much longer now.”
She glanced at her father. Seeing Elidyr defeated-or at least momentarily neutralized-he allowed his sword to slip from his fingers and nearly fell to his knees, weakened by blood loss. Ksana hurried forward to help her old friend, and she put an arm around Vaddon’s shoulder to steady him.
“I’ve got him,” Ksana said to Lirra, and Lirra nodded. Now that her father was in good hands, she turned to Osten and Rhedyn.
With everything that had been happening, she’d lost track of how their battle was going. She hoped to see that the young warrior was at least holding his own against her former lover. Instead, Osten had been disarmed and Rhedyn held him from behind, the edge of his sword pressed against the other man’s neck.
“Surrender, all of you, or I’ll slice his throat open!” Rhedyn warned.
Lirra calculated the odds of being able to reach the two men and disarm Rhedyn before he could make good on his threat. Even with the extra reach afforded by her tentacle whip, she knew there was no way she could prevent Rhedyn from killing Osten if he wanted to.
Elidyr spoke then. “While I applaud your efforts, Rhedyn, it’s not necessary that they formally surrender. We need only keep them at bay a few more moments until Ysgithyrwyn arrives.”
The foul illumination given off by the daelkyr had become so intense that it filled the cave. Lirra doubted they had moments left until Ysgithyrwyn appeared. More like seconds.
A slow, sly smile spread across Elidyr’s face then. “Of course, my lord would prefer you to accept his touch willingly. Especially you, Lirra. Perhaps we can make a deal. If you go to greet Ysgithyrwyn, I’ll guarantee that Rhedyn spares young Osten. If you resist, I’ll order him to cut the boy’s throat.” He looked at the others. “And if the rest of you interfere in any way, I’ll order the lad’s death.”
Vaddon stood with Ksana, and Ranja was with the two slowly recovering warforged, and while none of them looked happy about it, they all kept their distance.
Rhedyn looked at Lirra. “Please do it. Everything will be so much more clear once you’re touched by Ysgithyrwyn. Your thoughts will be sharper, more focused. Everything will make sense.” He paused. “And then we will finally be able to be together.”
Osten snarled and struggled briefly, but Rhedyn pressed the sword blade tighter against the man’s neck. Beads of blood welled, and Osten forced himself to remain still, lest he cut his own throat.
“Not much time left, Lirra,” Elidyr warned. “Decide now or it will be too late.”
Lirra knew then what she had to do. “Very well. I will go to greet him.” She sheathed her sword and started walking slowly toward the section of the cave wall where the sour yellow-green light was most intense, the spot where she knew Ysgithyrwyn would cross over from Xoriat into this place between dimensions that Elidyr had created.
“Lirra, no!” Vaddon cried out. Ksana was still in the process of healing him, and his words came out garbled, but they were clear enough. Lirra didn’t look at her father. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. When she reached the cave wall, she got down on one knee and lowered her head, as if she were a royal subject preparing to greet her liege, or a worshiper about to meet her god. But as she kneeled, she gave her tentacle whip a silent command.
No, the symbiont responded.
Do it! Lirra insisted.
Why should I?
Because if Ysgithyrwyn corrupts me, you can’t.
The tentacle whip considered for a moment, and then it lashed out. Stretching backward behind Lirra, it wrapped around the Overmantle, picked it up, and dashed the mystical device against the stone floor. The metal casing broke apart, the crystals within shattered, and the multicolored lights the device had been generating winked out, leaving Ysgithyrwyn’s foul light as the chamber’s only illumination.
She looked up, squinting her eyes against the daelkyr’s light and saw an otherworldly hand covered in a chitinous insect-like shell protrude through the cave wall. The hand reached down toward her head, but before Ysgithyrwyn could touch her, the daelkyr’s yellow-green light began to dim. With the destruction of the Overmantle, there was nothing to maintain the intersection of the two dimensional planes, and they were beginning to pull apart.
As the daelkyr lord withdrew his hand, an alien voice echoed in her mind, one that didn’t originate from her symbiont. It was male, the tone beautiful and ugly at the same time, as if she were listening to soothing music blended with hideous screams.
This was most amusing, Lirra. I hope we get to play again someday.
Then the voice faded, along with Ysgithyrwyn’s light, and the cave walls resumed their solid appearance. Eberron and Xoriat were separate once more.
Lirra felt dirty inside, as if Ysgithyrwyn’s mental voice had left a slimy residue on her brain. She shuddered once, and then did her best to forget about the daelkyr lord as she turned to face Rhedyn, determined to get him to release Osten. But Osten stood alone, bleeding slightly from the shallow wound in his throat, behind him only shadows-shadows which Rhedyn had used his symbiont’s power to lose himself in. She started forward, intending to search for Rhedyn, but she stopped when she saw the puddle of coppery liquid where Elidyr had been standing. There was no sign of her uncle. Somehow, Elidyr had gotten free of his coppery prison and escaped, and Lirra had no doubt that wherever her uncle was headed, Rhedyn accompanied him.
Fury filled her at the thought that the two of them might get away, and she grabbed her sword handle, intending to draw her weapon and rush off into the darkness in pursuit.
Yes! the thought-voice said, the word accompanied by images of Elidyr and Rhedyn lying on the ground, covered in blood, begging for mercy as the whip lashed their bodies and Lirra plunged her blade into their flesh again and again.
Slowly, Lirra removed her hand from her sword. There’s been enough killing for one day. Now it’s time to take care of my friends.
Ignoring the symbiont’s protests, she started toward Osten.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
They searched the caves for several hours afterward, but they found no sign of either Elidyr or Rhedyn, and it was late afternoon by the time they finally emerged. The clouds that had covered the sky earlier had parted, and the companions were greeted by bright sunshine, a rarity for Karrnath, even in summertime.
“A blessing from Dol Arrah,” Ksana said, smiling, and Lirra
couldn’t say the cleric was wrong.
Ranja, Longstrider, and Shatterfist had long since fully recovered from the illithid’s mind blast, and both Vaddon’s and Osten’s wounds had been healed, thanks to Ksana. Afterward, Ksana had examined the bodies of the Outguard soldiers that had fallen during the battle in the cave, and she’d found four who still lived, despite the severity of their wounds. She’d healed them, and they were standing guard over the others.
The warforged hadn’t joined in the search for Elidyr and Rhedyn. Vaddon had ordered them to bring the Outguard dead out from the caves and bury them. Shatterfist and Longstrider had used their bare hands to dig the graves, and they had only just finished when the others broke off the search and exited the caves.
Vaddon glanced at the unmarked mounds where their dead were buried. “Sixty men and women rode with us when we left Geirrid two days ago, and now only four remain. We might have won a victory here this day, but if so, it was a costly one.”
“Was it a victory?” Lirra asked. “Both Elidyr and Rhedyn escaped.”
“We destroyed the Overmantle,” Osten pointed out.
“Elidyr’s an artificer,” Lirra countered. “He can build another.”
“I don’t think so,” Ksana said. “The crystals he used to make the device were expensive and rare. He was able to afford them only because Lord Bergerron funded our experiments. I highly doubt he’ll ever be able to acquire replacements on his own.”
“So … what now?” Osten asked.
Lirra frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What are we going to do about Elidyr and Rhedyn? We have to hunt them down. Whether Elidyr makes another Overmantle or not, he’s still extremely dangerous, and he’s responsible for the deaths of those farmers he turned into the white-eyes, not to mention all the people in Geirrid the white-eyes killed, and he’s responsible for the deaths of the soldiers who lost their lives trying to stop him-both in Geirrid and in the battle with the dolgrims. He has to be brought to justice.” Osten scowled. “As does the traitor Rhedyn.”
“Of that there is no question,” Vaddon said. “But as to whether or not we’ll be involved, that will be up to Lord Bergerron. I’ll report to him as soon as I am able, and we’ll see what, if anything, he’ll want us to do.” Vaddon paused. “Considering how this campaign turned out, Bergerron may well wish to place his trust in others to track down my brother.”
Up to that point the two warforged had been silent, but suddenly Longstrider spoke up.
“You did the best you could given the circumstances, General Vaddon. I doubt anyone could’ve done better, and I’ll make sure Lord Bergerron knows that.”
Vaddon looked surprised, as if he’d never expected this sort of consideration from a being he viewed as nothing more than a mobile weapon. He inclined his head gratefully. “Thank you, Longstrider.”
Osten turned to Lirra. “Sounds like we’ll be on the hunt again soon.”
“We may be,” Vaddon said, “but my daughter won’t.” He turned to Lirra. “Your part in this is finished. I agreed that you could keep your symbiont temporarily only so you could use it to stop Elidyr. But my brother has escaped, and you must leave the search for him to others.”
Lirra felt a surge of anger, and she struggled to contain it. “You saw what I can do with the tentacle whip, Father! If it hadn’t been for my symbiont, I wouldn’t have been able to destroy the Overmantle!”
“Please understand, Lirra. I am not denying your contributions, but you must give up your symbiont. For your own good, if for no other reason. Yes, you are strong-willed, and you will hold out against the aberration’s influence as long as you can-longer, probably, than most people could-but inevitably it will corrupt your mind and spirit, just as it did to Rhedyn. You need to return with us to the garrison at Geirrid, and once there, Ksana can see to removing your symbiont.” Vaddon paused. “I’ve lost my brother to the insanity of chaos and corruption. I don’t want to lose you too.”
Lirra felt her tentacle whip twitch, and she knew it wanted to bury its stinger into her father’s throat and start pumping venom into his body and not stop until he was dead a dozen times over. But she understood how Vaddon felt, and though she didn’t agree, she still loved him for it.
“What if I refuse?” she asked.
Sorrow filled Vaddon’s eyes for a moment, but then his expression became impassive as he worked to constrain his emotions, just as Lirra had seen him do on the battlefield a hundred times before. When he next spoke, it wasn’t as her father but as the general. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Really?” Despite her determination to keep her own emotions under control, she clenched her fists in anger.
Ksana stepped between them, and Lirra couldn’t help thinking it was a place where the cleric had stood many times before. “Lirra, please-I understand how you feel, we both do, but you have to listen to reason …”
Lirra’s anger built inside her, like a fire on the verge of blazing out of control, but she fought it. Part of her wanted nothing more than to strike out at Vaddon and Ksana, but these were two of the dearest people in the world to her and, however misguided their actions might be, she knew they did them out of love for her.
“I’m going to find Elidyr on my own,” she said, voice tight with restrained anger. “I’m leaving now, Father, and if you want to prevent me from going, you’ll have to kill me.”
Shatterfirst turned to Longstrider. “She’s joking, right?”
Longstrider shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Ksana looked shocked by Lirra’s words, but Vaddon-no longer able to hold back his feelings-regarded her with a sorrow-filled gaze.
“Very well, Lirra. You may go-for now,” Vaddon said. “But this isn’t the end of it. I intended to do everything I can to cure you. And if I can’t …”
“What?” Lirra demanded. “You’ll have me imprisoned for the rest of my life, where I can’t be a danger to anyone? Or will you decide not to risk it and have me killed?”
Vaddon didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. The sadness in his eyes spoke for him.
A storm of conflicting emotions raged through Lirra. Though she felt anger and frustration over her father’s inability to see her point of view, she understood that he believed he was acting out of love for her. How could she fault him for that? He was a proud man, a strong warrior, and a capable leader-all in all, a noble son of Karrnath. But he was also a limited man in his way, unable to see beyond the world-view that had always shaped his life. Military discipline, rigid adherence to rules and regulations … Lirra had once been like that too, her father’s daughter in every way. But the last few days had taught her that sometimes the rules changed on you, whether you liked it or not-and sometimes you had to make your own rules. Perhaps symbionts normally corrupted their hosts, but it didn’t have to be that way for her. She would find a way to live with the aberration and make use of the abilities it granted her, whether or not her father believed it was possible. She wished Vaddon could understand, that they could somehow work together to track down Elidyr, but she knew it wasn’t possible, and the realization filled her with heart-rending sadness.
Ksana must have realized much the same thing, for the cleric’s gaze was sorrowful as she stretched out her hand and gently touched Lirra on the forehead. “May the blessings of Dol Arrah be upon you, my child.”
Lirra felt a wave of warmth pass through her body, and when it was done, her anger was gone. She nodded her gratitude to the cleric, and then, without looking at her father, she turned to go.
“Hold up, Lirra,” Ranja said. “You’re not leaving without me!”
Lirra turned to the shifter. “I appreciate everything you did to help us, but the path I’ve chosen is one I must walk alone.”
“Spare me the dramatics. You choose your path, I choose mine. It just so happens that they’re the same.” She grinned. “For the time being, at least.”
Lirra was going
to argue with the shifter, but then she decided not to bother. If the woman wanted to follow her, she would find a way to do so. It was simpler to let her come along openly if she wished. Besides, given the way Lirra felt right then, she figured she could use the company.
“Very well,” Lirra said.
“I’m coming too,” Osten said.
Lirra turned to him, surprised, but before she could say anything, Vaddon spoke.
“You are a Karrnathi soldier, boy! What you’re talking about amounts to desertion!”
Osten glared at Vaddon defiantly. “I can’t desert if I’m no longer a soldier. I resign my commission, General.”
“Osten, please, think this through!” Lirra said. “I can’t let you do this!”
“You’re going to need allies to deal with Elidyr,” the young warrior said. “You’re also going to need someone who understands what it’s like to carry a symbiont. Someone who can rein you in when it becomes necessary. Someone to be-”
“My conscience,” Lirra said with a smile. “All right.” She turned to the warforged and smiled. “Well, what about you two?”
The constructs’ hands were still dirty from grave digging, and Longstrider rubbed his together, almost self-consciously. “Shatterfist and I admire you greatly,” he said, “but we are loyal to Lord Bergerron, and as he assigned us to your father’s command, that is where we shall remain until ordered otherwise.”
“Too bad,” Shatterfist said, giving the impression that he sighed without actually doing so. “I have so many more jokes that you haven’t heard yet.”