Raidon remained in the ritual circle, one hand across his chest where the Cerulean Sign burned.
Seren paused to watch the half-elf. The monk was oblivious. His wide eyes saw something beyond the deck, they reflected what the gleamtail jacks could sense. Thus Seren had crafted the ritual.
"You're doing well, monk," she murmured.
She moved on to the aftcastle that was built over the captain's quarters. Light gleamed through the porthole in the narrow door to the captain's mess where Thoster took his meals, planned raids, and smoked his odiferous weed.
She pushed into the chamber.
A miniature chandelier gleaming with magical flames provided a warm glow. Thoster was seated at a heavy table almost too big for the space. A pot of stew steamed at the table's center.
The captain looked up. "Seren! It's been some time since you joined me for supper." The captain ladled himself another serving of stew, then motioned to an empty setting.
Seren sat and allowed the captain to serve her, first a portion of stew, then a finger of rum from a glass bottle.
"So, what news?" said the captain. He motioned to the fine windows installed in the chamber. "I see we're still descending. Does Raidon require something? A rest perhaps?"
"No, the monk seems tireless. Probably drawing energy from his spellscar."
"A handy trick."
"I suppose."
Silence stretched, broken only by the sound of Thoster slurping stew. Finally the captain said, "What's on your mind, Seren?"
"You."
"Oh?" The captain winked. "After all this time, I'm flattered."
"Fm worried that you're a liability."
"Ho! You think I can't handle myself in-"
"I think you're hiding something, something to do with your past. Something that will compromise Raidon's plan to eradicate this threat we face."
Thoster frowned.
Seren said, "Remember when we fought Gethshemeth and its kuo-toa beneath the island? Of course you do. But do you recall when you started blubbering about the eidolon we found there?"
"I'm not sure-"
"You demanded that the monk not hurt it, despite that it nearly proved our end."
The captain put down his mug and spoon. He dropped his head. "I can't explain it."
"Try."
The man squared his shoulders as if coming to some decision. Seren tensed, readying hersel f in case the captain made to draw his venomous blade.
Thoster rolled back one sleeve. Tiny scales tiled his arm. Seren's stomach dropped.
"What does this mean?" she said.
"I'm changing, Seren. I don't know why. Something to do with the kuo-toa is my guess. These are growing all over me. Can you… can you stop it?" The man's face looked more vulnerable than the wizard had ever seen it.
Seren examined the scales, searching for arcane telltales of a curse or transformative magic. If this was the result of a spell or ritual, she might be able to reverse it… but no. Whatever this was, it wasn't magic's handiwork-or at least not recent magic.
"Thoster," she said, "whatever's afflicting you, it is fundamental to your nature. I can't remove it." The captain sighed.
"But I might be able to slow it down."
"Aye, that I'd welcome, Seren. How?"
She said, "Tell me everything you know about it."
"I don't know anything!"
She frowned her annoyance. "Don't be an idiot, Thoster. I've heard you talk about your 'polluted blood' on more than one occasion. You must know something."
Thoster helped himself to more rum, then said, "Well, my auntie raised me-I never knew my mother. Auntie was one for the drink, and we weren't close. She always screamed at me when she finished off her liquor, that I was 'an ungrateful little monster with unclean blood.' Never knew what she meant, but it helped my reputation when I was older. I took it as a badge of honor 'cause it made me special, especially in the rough crowd I ran with. Helped me get where I am now, in fact. I never thought it was anything more than the ravings of a drunk, until…"
"Until what?" said Seren.
"These damned scales started replacing my skin, what else?"
"Below the island-you recognized that eidolon. Or something inside you did. Try to remember exactly what you saw and what you felt."
Thoster's face was red and his breath came faster. He said, "I… it was like I knew the statue. Like it was maybe… some sorta representation of… my real mum."
Seren said, "A lobster-clawed shrine dedicated to a fish goddess reminded you of your mother? That can't be good."
"No, don't seem so," acknowledged the captain.
Seren closed her eyes. She tried to dredge up lore associated with kuo-toa deities. It seemed a good bet most kuo-toa revered Umberlee, the Queen of the Deeps, or one of Umberlee's exarchs. Probably the latter-
Umberlee's symbol was a curling wave, not lobster claws. Of course, the kuo-toa on the island had revered Gethshemeth, and Gethshemeth had obviously become a servitor of the Sovereignty.
The animate shrine that attacked them on the island had seemed perverted too. Its head had been hewn off and replaced with some sort of animating rune.
So where did that leave Thoster?
Seren opened her eyes just enough to study the captain. Was he half kuo-toa? She'd never heard of such a thing.
Not that that didn't make it possible. The eidolon to some hoary old kuo-toa exarch made the captain sentimental for his dear old missing mother, who he couldn't consciously remember. Which could mean he was either of kuo-toa lineage, or the exarch really was his-
She shook her head at such a foolish idea.
"What?" said Thoster.
"Oh, just considering some outlandish possibilities."
The captain snorted. "I don't think anything's too outlandish at this point!"
"Mmm, that's relative. Anyhow, Captain, I might be able to help you."
"You know what's afflicting me?"
She shrugged. "Close enough. You know it yourself. I don't even want to think about how it happened, but looks like your auntie had it right. You've got something of the kuo-toa in you."
"Why's it coming out now?"
"Something's triggered it. But like I said, I might be able to slow it down some or, if we're lucky, halt the change altogether."
"I'm listening."
Seren smiled. "Good. Now, before we get down to specifics, I'd like to discuss my fee."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Year of the Secret (1396 DR), Xxiphu
A lane of shadow stretched into existence between the world and its echoes. The massive hound named Tamur hurtled down the shadow road, hot on the trail of succulent quarry. That which fled before it was not flesh, though, and the hound was hard pressed to maintain the scent and the lane of shadow simultaneously.
Tamur's eladrin mistress strode behind it. Her mere presence froze water out of the air, the hound felt her like a chill wind behind it. Though her steps were measured and graceful, she easily kept pace.
The hound snuffled, momentarily, confused. The scent wavered. Ahead of them, the walls of gloom making up the corridor decayed and threatened to collapse.
"Do not lose it, Tamur," said the woman.
The ebony creature was far more intelligent than a normal animal, and more vicious too. Yet its loyalty to its mistress echoed that of a dog's to its owner. It wanted to please Malyanna.
Tamur redoubled its effort. It put its muzzle down, snuffling and snorting. The hound tracked an intangible mote embodying a splintered oath. The mote winged across the dimensions, pointing the way to an archfey its mispress wished to meet.
If it was possible to track such a thing, Tamur would do it.
The essence it tracked ceased moving. It was close! Unconsciously, Tamur allowed the shadow lane to begin to collapse.
Ahead, the corridor widened. Shafts of fiery light broke through the leading discontinuity. The orange gleams dissolved the shadow walls. The hound leaped from
the shadow, which immediately tattered and faded. Its mistress was only a step behind Tamur.
They stood at the curbed edge of a stone balcony.
Tamur glanced over the edge, sniffing. It saw a fierywinged creature being pulled below the surface of a murky subterranean sea. A dozen thick, boneless arms wrapped the angel in an unbreakable grip. The red light quickly faded.
That was not the source of the scent. But it was close.
The hound turned to its mistress. Her pupil-less eyes glimmered with the phosphorescent glow of the wide cavern the balcony overlooked.
When she smiled, Tamur was glad. That meant it had done well. It watched her as she in turn took in her surroundings.
Malyanna murmured, "How convenient that of all places, I find myself here."
The hound could make out her basic words but couldn't put meaning to them. That wasn't unusual. That she was content was all that was really important. When Malyanna was happy, she indulged Tamur with treats that usually involved live prey.
A new smell sparked across the hound's awareness. It barked as it turned to the balcony's interior. They weren't alone.
A figure stood amid smoking metallic shards. It was a man, bald and pale, with narrow squinting eyes and pointed ears. He wore elaborately cut black clothing, as elegant as if he were dressed for a prominent theater production. An aura of needle-toothed bats swirled around him, He stood nearly seven feet tall, and the muscles of his lean form bunched beneath his clothing.
Tamur took an instant dislike to the man, despite that he reeked of the scent the hound had chased through shadow. Tamur loosed a low growl.
*****
The Lord of Bats preened. He couldn't recall how long it had been since he'd felt so fine. He smiled when the great black dog growled. It amused him to consider all the ways he could bring the hound's life to a swift and painful end.
And there was the eladrin noble.
"Malyanna," he said, his voice rich with barely contained triumph, "strange you arrive on the heels of my release. Stranger still you were able to find me at all, here in this place history never knew. I can only presume it was you who broke my pact stone? Do I have you to thank for my liberation?"
The woman bowed. "As you say, Neifion. I can see just by looking at you that you're nearly back to your old self. You're in my debt."
He laughed. As he did, the haze of bats surrounding him screeched in accompaniment. The hound's ears lay down at the volume. When his mirth subsided, Neifion said, "Yes. I have nearly regained my full vigor. I am the Lord of Bats once more, in more than just name. All that once was mine is mine again, save for my lesser skin. Which is not far from here-I'll have that back soon too."
"Have it back from the warlock Japheth? Is he nearby?"
"Yes… but where is your ally Behroun Marhana? I have a score to settle with him too. He should have been the one to sunder the pact stone the moment he stole it from the warlock, as he swore!"
"Forget about that scrap of mortal flesh. I left him bleeding on your castle floor. When you return home, he'll be waiting. Rather, let's speak of Japheth. Where is he?"
The lord of shadow-mantled Darroch Castle smiled. He fastened the full intensity of his gaze upon the eladrin.
An envelope of shrieking bats flowed from him to her, instantly surrounding the woman. She was buffeted by dozens of leathery wings.
He said, "If you've broken your alliance with Behroun, why do you still care about the warlock's whereabouts?
Why so interested, Malyanna?"
The woman raised a hand. The flapping creatures surrounding her frosted over and scattered away on their last trajectories, clearing the air around her. "Don't do that again, or you may anger me."
The Lord of Bats snorted. "Perhaps I'd like to see you angry. It would bring color to your ice white cheeks."
The shadow hound growled, baring teeth the size of Neifion's fingers.
He glanced at the canine. His eyes became pools of night.
The mastiffs growl choked off, becoming a whimper. Like a beaten cur, the dark beast sank to its belly and crawled toward the man. Its demeanor was that of a dog hoping for forgiveness but fearing a cuff.
"Do not," thundered Malyanna, "play with the loyalties of my servitors."
She snapped her fingers. An unseen force struck Neifion. He spun under the blow, but he did not lose his feet.
Instead, his cape flared outward, transforming into great wings. His limbs lengthened, and his pale skin sprouted ratty fur. The Lord of Bats called back to himself his greater shape of old. Energy raced through his expanded stature. He was a hybrid creature whose leathery wings stretched from one end of the balcony to the other. He shrieked, baring teeth far larger than the hound's.
He swept one enormous wing down. Its leading edge struck Malyanna's midsection, and she spun off the balcony, windmilling into the open space beyond the curb. She fell out of sight a moment later without making a single sound of pain or protest.
"Too easy" he rumbled. His massive head scanned the balcony. He huffed, then took a step back toward the tunnel entrance. He regarded the hound as it retreated, its eyes wary.
The mastiff shook its head violently, as if trying to clear its ears of water. The Lord of Bats nodded and said, "Still ensorcelled-it is only a stupid brute " He stepped past the canine.
Neifion reached the balcony exit. The trek bell partially blocked the tunnel, making the opening awkward to pass through at his current stature. Well, perhaps he could squeeze-
A cold wind blew on his neck. He turned in time to see an explosion of ice crystals spit an enraged Malyanna onto the balcony.
She reached up to his much larger shape before he was ready and placed her palm on his sternum. Where she touched, winter sprouted.
The Lord of Bats screamed. The pain shocked through him, making him clumsy. His unfurled wings snapped him forward and up, away from the exit and over the eladrin's head. He twisted in midair so that when he lighted on the balcony's edge, he faced her. Icicles draped him, and a rime of frost coated his fur.
He pushed through the frigid torpor and called on the essence of the Fey wild, whose power reached into the world even there on the doorstep of Xxiphu.
Malyanna began to countercast, but before her slashing gestures concluded, thick vines burst from the floor and seized her. The vines were studded with long thorns that wept poison. She shrieked-not in pain, but rather in fullthroated rage.
"You'll regret crossing a priestess of the Sovereignty!" Her voice was the harsh roar of the blizzard. Even as the vines struggled to twine her tighter and puncture her white flesh, she crooned a new series of syllables, more a song than a spell. The eladrin's melody was not a call to winter. It was an obscene mantra whose words were each corruptions of sentient language. The lilting music fell from Malyanna's mouth and stained reality with its mad juxtaposition of pitch, tone, and melody.
Neifion fluttered his massive wings. For all his power, the strange energy rippling from the eladrin ruffled him.
It was utterly alien to his experience. He wondered if she really was an eladrin noble at all, or something that wore the fey flesh as a guise.
Malyanna's song was answered. From the dark entrance that framed her came a flicker of purplish light. A sliding, muddy rush of noise murmured from the opening. The sound suggested to Neifion a stampede of worms, if those worms were the size of bulls.
Neifion took in the iron flinders of the trek bell. He darted a glance down the troubling sides of the edifice on which he perched, then up, looking for other exits. He couldn't immediately detect any. Finally, he looked past the vinewrapped eladrin. Unwholesome shadows swarmed in the tunnel behind her.
Neifion decided to chance another tactic.
He allowed his greater form to lapse. His leathery wings folded away and his bulk deflated. He melted into the suited, caped, pale-skinned version of himself that most creatures found more amenable to conversation.
He raised his hands and said,
"I believe we started off on the wrong foot, Malyanna. What did you say you wished to learn from me? Japheth's whereabouts? Perhaps we can come to an accord. I don't really wish to fight."
Though his words were calm and measured, the Lord of Bats ground his teeth between each sentence.
He waved a hand, the vines holding Malyanna withered. and became dust.
The woman ceased her sick tune. When the last note died away, the garish light from the corridor failed too, and with it the disquieting shadows the light had thrown. She shook out her garments. Residual dust from the Lord of Bats's clinging vines scattered.
"I would prefer feeding you to those who inhabit this relic of a failed promise," Malyanna said. "But I find myself pressed for time, after all these long centuries. So I ask you once again, where is Japheth?"
The Lord of Bats replied, "Let us throw in together, you and I, Malyanna. What say you? I can lead you to the traitor warlock easily enough. All I ask in return-"
"All you'll get in return," interrupted the woman, "is your life."
Neifion's brow darkened. Did she seek to provoke him? "You are a formidable creature. I admit you surprised me just now. You have more resources than any eladrin, noble or otherwise, should have claim to. But do not make the mistake of underestimating my power. I doubt you know. its full extent. You might find yourself slain in turn, were I to loose it. Do not forget I am a lord of the Feywild itself. I number among the archfey."
The woman snorted, but then scowled as she considered the man's words.
Neifion waited.
"You seek one last alliance, Neifion?" she finally said. "Fine. Let us work together until we find the damned human. I presume he is somewhere in Xxiphu. I could locate him, given time. But if you can lead me directly to him, I am ready to follow. You can kill him, and I… I will take back something he once promised to deliver to me."
The Lord of Bats grinned widely, as if all their former strife were forgotten. He said, "The Dreamheart? Of all the lies you told me, that one thing remains true?"
She shrugged.
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