Storm of the Dead зкp-2

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Storm of the Dead зкp-2 Page 29

by Lisa Smedman


  The sphere still hung above the ruined temple, but it was no longer expanding. The skulls that struck it vanished, instantly obliterated. The undead legions inside the sphere shouted and pounded against its walls, but could not escape. All the while, the Crones milled about between the fallen undead like club-stunned rothe. Shuffling. Uncertain. A handful of those that still lived were down, knocked to the ground by the rain of falling skulls. For several moments more, the ghastly rain continued. When it at last ended, a dirgelike moan filled the air. The Crones, mourning.

  The crowd had thinned enough so that Cavatina could see the bodies of the fallen Protectors and the wizards Daffir and Gilkriz. Leliana lay among them, too, her singing sword beside her.

  Cavatina walked to it and picked it up.

  As she raised it, the weapon sang out a strident peal. To Eilistraee. To victory.

  "Qilue!" she called.

  A moment later, the high priestesses's mind touched hers. Cavatina! Where are you?

  Swiftly, Cavatina described what had just happened. "Lady Qilue, was it your doing?"

  No. I wasn't the one who killed… her.

  Cavatina noted the hesitation in Qilue's mental voice. "What happened, then?"

  I can't answer that. But now is the moment to strike. We need to deal with the surviving Crones-swiftly-before the effect is undone.

  Cavatina glanced around at the milling Crones. Their faces, no longer contorted with the madness of their faith, looked lost, tired, and sad. One of them touched Cavatina's arm and looked pleadingly into her eyes, as if seeking an answer to a question she didn't know how to ask.

  Cavatina shrugged her off. "Should we offer them redemption?" she asked Qilue. "There may be some who-"

  Qilue's mental voice lashed out like a whip. No. Kill them.

  "But-"

  Eilistraee demands their deaths. They cannot be redeemed. Kill them.

  Cavatina lifted her weapon. That had been an order. And a Darksong Knight did as her high priestess commanded. Cavatina told herself that the Crones had sown the seeds of their own destruction by choosing to worship… whatever evil goddess had just been slain. Cavatina was merely the scythe that fulfilled that grim harvest.

  Lips pressed together in a grim line, she swung her weapon. Right, left, cutting down Crones. Easy as reaping wheat.

  The remaining Crones didn't even put up a fight. Sword blow by sword blow, they fell.

  *****

  Cavatina led fully three dozen priestesses-reinforcements from the Promenade-in song. They stood in a wide circle around the shattered ruin that had been Kiaransalee's temple, swords pointed at the voidstone. As they sang, healing energy flowed up their blades and across the space between their metal and the sphere. Brighter even than a full moon, the raw positive energy spun the voidstone around, grinding it down like a pebble in a stream.

  Eight Nightshadows worked with the priestesses. They were less skilled in summoning the healing energies of the Prime Material Plane, but they had a role nonetheless. Their chant-whispered from behind their masks-would ensure that after the voidstone had been destroyed, any link with the Negative Energy Plane would be sealed.

  Elsewhere on the island, other Protectors chased down the few undead that had survived Kiaransalee's fall. As for those priestesses and Nightshadows who had fallen in the earlier battles, their bodies were even then being carried back to the Moondeep Sea. They would be returned to the Promenade and resurrected, Eilistraee willing. So too would Daffir and Gilkriz, if possible. If not, their bodies would be returned to Sshamath for burial. The same would hold true for Mazeer, once her body was found.

  Karas was healed. He stood to Cavatina's immediate right. It no longer galled her to see a Nightshadow participating in one of Eilistraee's sacred rituals. Since her redemption, that anger had dissipated. She understood, then, how a Nightshadow might feel after carrying out an assassination: exactly as Cavatina had felt after Qilue ordered her to kill the remaining Crones.

  The voidstone shrank to the size of a boulder, a melon, a fist, a pea. Then, with a boom that was swallowed the instant it sounded, it disappeared. The priestesses lowered their swords and fell silent, and the Nightshadows dropped their hands.

  "Lady Qilue," Cavatina called. "It is done. The voidstone is destroyed. But…" She glanced down at her feet and saw that the stone still glowed as brightly as before. "But the Faerzress hasn't diminished."

  I can see that.

  "It's reached the Promenade?"

  It has.

  "Lady, should we try to-?"

  Nothing more can be done. Return to the Promenade.

  And that was it. The entirety of the high priestess's message. No praise for what Cavatina and her expedition had accomplished, no further comment. Just that curt order.

  "Is something wrong?" Karas asked.

  Cavatina realized she was letting her worry show. "I don't know. Lady Qilue didn't seem…" She closed her mouth, declining to say more. Karas had proven himself, but confiding her fears to him didn't feel appropriate, even though he shared her command. "We're done here. We're to return to the Promenade-promptly. Qilue probably has another mission for us."

  "The Masked Lady's will be done," Karas murmured. His eyes, however, didn't match his tone. There was a gleam to them that made Cavatina wary.

  He started to turn away, but Cavatina planted herself in his path. "What is it, Karas?" she demanded. "What are you thinking?"

  He hesitated. Then shrugged. "Only that Lady Qilue is growing more like a Nightshadow each day. She's playing her sava pieces very close to her chest. I find that… amusing."

  Cavatina took a deep breath. Karas was up to his old tricks again. Trying to provoke her into an argument. "I don't," she answered flatly. "But it's the way things are now. We're all going to have to get used to it. Make the best of our new partners and continue the dance as best we can."

  Karas's eyebrows rose slightly. "Out of the light, into the shadows-back and forth, as the Masked Lady wills it."

  "Yes."

  Their eyes met, locked, then, as if at some unspoken command, both turned away.

  *****

  Q'arlynd strode into the dining hall, surprised that Seldszar had agreed to meet with him at a time that would interrupt the master's supper. Judging by the extra place that had been laid at the table, Seldszar was expecting someone else to join him. Q'arlynd would have to come quickly to the point before that person arrived.

  The elder wizard set down his fork and stared up at Q'arlynd through the crystal spheres that orbited his head. If he noted the invisible kiira affixed to Q'arlynd's forehead, he gave no sign. "You wanted to speak to me?"

  Q'arlynd bowed. "I wanted to compliment you, Master Seldszar, on solving the problem of the faerie fire."

  Master Seldszar frowned. "There is work yet to be done. The Faerzress that has sprung up outside our city presents new challenges."

  "Indeed. But at least the effect is no longer increasing. The 'scouting expedition' put an end to that."

  "So it did." The frown deepened. "Unfortunately, not before the College of Divination was greatly weakened."

  Q'arlynd carefully hid his flinch. He did his best not to think about having abandoned the mission. "Ours wasn't the only college to suffer," he pointed out. "The College of Conjuration and Summoning also faces challenges. Its master is being held responsible for the fact that teleportation in and out of the city is no longer possible."

  "That's true. But you didn't come here to tell me what I already know."

  Q'arlynd bowed his head in agreement. "I understand you and Master Urlryn are working together on your mutual problem? Trying to find a way to break the link between drow and Faerzress?"

  Master Seldszar's eyebrows rose. "You've been making enquiries. Either that or your scrying skills have improved."

  "The former," Q'arlynd said. "A source within the College of Conjuration and Summoning."

  "My son's consort?"

  Q'arlynd smiled.
>
  "You didn't come here to tell me that, either. Please come to the point."

  Q'arlynd glanced at the bottle of fungus wine that stood on the massive dining table, wishing he could wet his lips with it. He took a deep breath, instead. "What if I were to tell you I've been speaking with dark elves from the distant past-from the time of ancient Miyeritar? With those who have first-hand knowledge of how the link between dark elves and Faerzress was forged, and who want to see it undone?"

  Master Seldszar was no longer even glancing at his spheres. "I'd listen. Very carefully." He gestured at the seat across the table from him. "Sit. Pour yourself some wine."

  Q'arlynd did as instructed. He took a polite sip of the wine, then set his goblet down, "You've noted the kiira on my forehead?"

  "The moment you walked into the dining hall." Seldszar's eyes glittered. He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. "I thank you for recovering it."

  Q'arlynd refused to be intimidated.

  "It can be worn only by a descendant of House Melarn," he warned Seldszar. "Since the fall of Ched Nasad, there is only one surviving member of that House. Me. If anyone else were to wear this kiira, they'd wind up as Eldrinn did, that time I fetched him home from the High Moor. A drooling idiot." Q'arlynd cocked his head. "Hardly a fit state for the master of a college, wouldn't you say?"

  Master Seldszar leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on Q'arlynd's. "What do you want?"

  "I've founded a school. I want it recognized as a college. I want a seat on the Conclave. To achieve that, I'm going to need a nomination from a master. From you."

  "And if I refuse?"

  Q'arlynd shrugged. "Then I'll speak to Master Urlryn instead."

  Seldszar laughed, startling Q'arlynd.

  "You wonder what I find so amusing," Seldszar said. "What if I were to tell you I'd already heard this conversation, once before?" He flicked a finger at his spheres. "That it was a little obscured by the sizzle of faerie fire, but that I'd gotten the gist of it, just the same. That I gave my staff of divination to Daffir not because I thought he might need it, but because I knew you'd need it. That I knew there was a selu'kiira waiting within Kraanfhaor's Door that I might claim, myself, once you've shown me how. What would you say then?"

  Q'arlynd raised his eyebrows. "I'd say the alliance between our respective colleges appears to be a foregone conclusion."

  Master Seldszar smiled and raised his goblet. "Are you still planning on calling yours the College of Ancient Arcana?"

  "How did you know that? Did Eldrinn…" Q'arlynd realized what a foolish question that was, and laughed. He clinked his goblet against Seldszar's. "To alliances."

  CODA

  Kiaransalee's dust-dry face creaked as she grimaced. She glared down at the masked Priestess piece Eilistraee had just moved. "You think you can flank me?" she cackled. "Think again."

  With a shove of a bony hand, she pushed one of her own Priestess pieces forward to block the move. The piece wavered as she released it, twisting like a wisp of smoke. It looked as though a breath might blow it apart. And yet Eilistraee could sense, even from a distance, that it contained a will as solid and unshakable as stone.

  Swiftly, Kiaransalee moved a second piece-a smaller Priestess, sculpted from putrid gray flesh-into a flanking position. Then she sat back on the marble tombstone that served as her chair, her bony, ring-bedecked fingers resting on her knees. She stared smugly at Lolth, gesturing at the piece she'd just blocked. "Your move. If your demon-Warrior attacks her other Priestess, she won't be able to counter it without losing this one."

  Lolth made no comment. She waved a hand above the sava board, using the webs that trailed from it to brush away the mold that had fallen from Kiaransalee's tattered robe. As Lolth's hand moved toward her demonic Warrior piece, Kiaransalee cackled in anticipation. When Lolth instead picked up the Priestess piece with the spider legs protruding from its chest, and moved it to flank the pieces Kiaransalee had moved, the lichlike goddess's yellowed teeth snapped shut.

  "What are you doing?" Kiaransalee cried. A withered finger stabbed at Eilistraee's Priestess piece, rocking it slightly. "You've just given that piece an escape!"

  "How cunning of you, Kiaransalee, to point out the perfectly obvious," Lolth said. One white eyebrow arched. "And how stupid of you to think I would play on your side."

  Eilistraee too was startled by Lolth's move. She searched for a trap in it, but saw none. Her Priestess piece could easily take Lolth's Warrior piece. Was this what Lolth had intended? Did the Spider Queen mean to deliberately sacrifice it, just as she had done with Selvetarm?

  "Your move, daughter," Lolth said, leaning forward on her black iron throne. "We're waiting."

  Eilistraee refused to be hurried. She scanned the board carefully, trying to decide if Lolth's move had been a feint. It didn't appear to be-and the opportunity it opened up was too good to ignore. She picked up her Priestess piece and moved it into the space the bat-winged piece occupied. "Priestess takes Warrior."

  She lifted Lolth's piece from the board-and gasped as the heat of it seared her fingers. She dropped it. The Warrior piece tumbled toward the sava board, bat wings fluttering raggedly. An instant before it struck the board it erupted into a ball of flame. Consumed. Gone. Not so much as a speck of ash remained.

  Eilistraee stared, astonished. The Warrior piece had not allowed her to set it to the side of the board, but had instead removed itself from the game. She'd underestimated its power. It was nearly equal to that of Lolth's Mother piece.

  Was that why Lolth had sacrificed it?

  Lolth toyed with a strand of web-tangled hair and watched Eilistraee, waiting for a reaction. Kiaransalee merely stared, her empty eyesockets revealing nothing. Eilistraee's fingertips still burned from the Warrior piece's touch, but the mask she wore hid the worried pinch of her lips. She placed her burned hand on one of the trees next to her, as if casually leaning upon it. A surreptitious brush of her fingertips against one of its moonstone fruits healed her fingertips. A slight red mark remained, however, on her wrist, where the base of the Warrior piece had touched it.

  That was troubling. But there was still a game to be played.

  A series of moves followed. Kiaransalee shoved her two Priestess pieces toward the piece Lolth had just moved, forcing it to retreat across the board. Eilistraee moved a Priestess piece forward, saw it taken by those Kiaransalee wielded. Lolth played a waiting game while Kiaransalee advanced. Eilistraee was forced to the defensive. Back and forth, the pieces moved across the sava board. Several of Eilistraee's Priestess pieces fell.

  At long last, Kiaransalee made the move Eilistraee had been waiting for. The undead goddess moved a lesser Priestess piece out of the way, then pushed her Mother piece forward. From its new position, the Mother piece was poised to capture either the Priestess that had taken Lolth's demonic Warrior earlier, or the masked Priestess that had been the first of Eilistraee's pieces to move into Kiaransalee's House. If either of these pieces fell, it would open a path to the heart of Eilistraee's House.

  The Goddess of Death gave a low chuckle, dry as dust. Her bones creaked as she sat smugly back on her tombstone. "Your move, Eilistraee," she said gloatingly. "Your last move."

  Lolth nodded approvingly. "What a cunning web you've woven, Kiaransalee," she said in a voice as dry as Kiaransalee's own. "I can't see a single thing Eilistraee can do to counter it."

  Kiaransalee missed the sarcasm. Eilistraee didn't. She saw the rise of her mother's eyebrow, the slight nod of her head.

  "I make my own choices," Eilistraee told her coldly.

  "That may be," Lolth smirked. "But you follow my lead. You always have, ever since Arvandor."

  "Sacrifices are necessary, if the drow are to be saved."

  During this exchange, Kiaransalee's expression sharpened. She leaned forward, her wrinkled forehead creasing in a tight frown. She turned her head back and forth, hollow eyesockets searching the board.

  Eilistraee had to make her mo
ve. Now. Before the Goddess of Death spotted what was coming and found some new way to cheat.

  Eilistraee scooped up the Wizard piece that had been standing at the very edge of the board and moved it. Swiftly, to the very heart of Kiaransalee's House. "Wizard takes Mother!" she sang, her voice a victory peal.

  "No!" Kiaransalee rocked forward, her bony hands scrabbling at the board. She grabbed a Priestess piece, but it turned to mist that drifted away through her hands. She snatched at another piece, which likewise vanished. She tried desperately to move one piece after another, but they would no longer obey her commands.

  "No!" she cried again, a long, fading wail. Her body began to crumple in on itself, curling and flaking apart like a rotting leaf.

  "Yes," Eilistraee said firmly. She leaned forward and scooped Kiaransalee's Mother piece from the board. As the Goddess of Death shrank to a tiny, forlorn pile of tattered skin flakes, the Mother piece turned to ash in Eilistraee's hand. Eilistraee turned her hand palm-up, lifted her mask, and blew the ash away.

  Kiaransalee was gone. Her domain lingered a moment longer. Then its tombstones cracked and crumbled, its graves sagged in and became empty hollows. As it disappeared, the domains of Eilistraee and Lolth came together to fill the gap. A single silver ring that had fallen from Kiaransalee's fingers rolled across the sava board, grew increasingly tarnished, then fell onto its side. Lolth leaned forward and touched it, and it crumbled to dust.

  Once again, there were only two players. Mother and daughter, malice and mercy, darkness and moonlight-shadow-streaked moonlight from a moon half-waned, but moonlight, just the same.

  Eilistraee stared at Lolth across the sava board.

  "Your move."

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  Eilistraee's Faithful Qilue Veladorn (KIE-loo-ay VEL-a-dorn), one of the Seven Sisters, chosen of Eilistraee and Mystra, drow high priestess of the Promenade Cavatina Xarann (cav-a-TEEN-a zar-ANN), Darksong Knight, drow priestess of Eilistraee Leliana Vrinn (lell-lee-AH-nuh VRIN), drow priestess of Eilistraee, Protector of the Promenade, mother of Rowaan Miverra (miv-AIR-uh), drow priestess of Eilistraee Rowaan Vrinn (roe-WAHN VRIN), drow priestess of Eilistraee, head priestess of the Misty Forest shrine, daughter of Leliana Brindell (BRIN-dell), halfling priestess of Eilistraee, Protector of the Promenade Halav (hah-LAHV), drow priestess of Eilistraee, Protector of the Promenade Tash'kla (TASH-kluh), drow priestess of Eilistraee, Protector of the Promenade Chizra (CHIZ-ruh), drow priestess of Eilistraee, Protector of the Promenade Zindira (zin-DEE-ruh), drow priestess of Eilistraee, Protector of the Promenade Shoshara (show-SHAH-ruh), drow priestess of Eilistraee in the Shilmista Forest, aka the Forest of Shadows

 

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