The Sorcerer rota-3

by Troy Denning

  Arr looked back and found Beze reverted to true form. She was sinking to the ground, her tail and four arms hanging limp, her mouth open and pouring blood.

  'Tuuh, did I not tell you to send her somewhere?" Arr asked. "There still may be spies."

  Tuuh touched Beze, and a small tear opened in the air and sucked the corpse out of sight. Judging by the drone of insects and the stench of offal that lingered behind, Arr guessed that he had sent the body to the second or third of the Nine Hells.

  Once the portal closed, Arr dismissed the magic walls she had created and was pleased to see the shadow blanket littered with dead Shadovar. There was no sign of Escanor, or of those who had used their own bodies to put out the flames engulfing him.

  "I see no wounded," Ryry sounded disappointed. "Where are the wounded?"

  "hi Shade, by now," Arr said. "The Shadovar took them, I'm sure."

  "Truly?" Ryry looked at Arr as though she had hidden the wounded and was keeping them all for herself. "Why?"

  Tuuh shrugged and said, "What does it matter? Many two-legs do it, when they can."

  Ryry studied him doubtfully, then finally seemed to accept what she was seeing.

  "If you say so." She turned back to Arr and asked, "What now?"

  "Finish the job," Arr said as she returned to the blanket roll and clambered over it That is what the Chosen would do."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  15 Flamerule, the Year of Wild Magic

  Galaeron and the others had been waiting all morning when the muted crackle of a translocational spell finally sounded out in the heart of the courtyard, and their guest appeared in swirl of silver hair, a faint stench of gore and brimstone trailing after her. She was tall even for a human-and especially for a human woman-with a slender build and striking figure. Though her face was a bit rough-featured by elven standards, she was nevertheless a stunning beauty, with twinkling eyes, high cheeks, and a full-lipped mouth.

  Ruha poured a goblet of Cormyrean wine-the finest available, though that was not saying much after the ravages of the Goblin War-and went out to meet her. Unsure of the greeting he would receive, Galaeron trailed a pace behind. Aris remained hidden in his sleeping arcade, lest he startle her before she recovered from her teleport afterdaze.

  Ruha stopped at the woman's side and said, "Welcome to Arabel, Storm." She pressed the goblet into the woman's hands. "Thank you for coming."

  The sound of a familiar voice seemed to bring Storm out of her daze. She quaffed the wine in one long gulp, then made a sour face.

  "That's the sourest swill I've had in years." She pressed the goblet back into Ruha's hands. "But I'll have another. I've been trading spells with thornbacks and eyeheads all morning, and the thirst I have could drain the Moonsea."

  "Perhaps you'd care to sit?" Galaeron suggested, waving at the table they'd set in the shade of the house-a house they'd bought with the proceeds of the sale of one of Aris's statues. "We can bring out some food, if you're hungry."

  Storm eyed him warily, but followed him toward the table. "Sitting is good, but I won't have any food. The battle's not done, and fighting on a full stomach doesn't agree with me."

  As they took their seats, Aris emerged from beneath his arcade and came to join them. His grim face looked even more somber than usual. When he sat down beside them, he let his body drop so heavily that the mugs rattled on the table.

  Storm craned her neck and looked up into the giant's plate-sized eyes.

  "If s good to see you, Aris. You're looking better than the last time we met."

  Aris forced a smile and said, "I've been waiting for a chance to thank you properly for saving my life, lady."

  The giant reached inside his tabard and brought out a three-foot sculpture of Storm kneeling on the ground. The likeness was perfect, of course, with an expression that was at once angelic and fiercely protective. It struck Galaeron that she looked very much like a human version of Angharradh, the elf goddess of birth, protection, and wisdom.

  "Please accept this as a small sign of my gratitude."

  Storm took the piece with a gasp.

  "It's… it's… Aris, it's beautiful!" She set it on the table, then rose and studied it from all angles. Too beautiful to be me… or any mortal woman."

  "Not at all. That is the face seen by those you help." Aris glanced in Ruha's direction, then added, "Ruha helped me track down some of them, so I know."

  Storm tore her eyes-glistening with unshed tears-from the statue and went over to him. Even sitting on the ground, the giant towered over her, and she ended up embracing the side of his arm.

  "Ill treasure it always, Aris." She tipped her head back and blew him a kiss, which floated visibly up to his face and planted itself on his cheek like a silver tattoo. "Thank you."

  Galaeron was glad to see that Storm treasured Aris's gift so highly-he had expected nothing else, really, for the giant's art never failed to move those who viewed it-but her reaction also dampened his own spirits. The giant did not approve of what Galaeron was about to suggest, and-given that Storm held him responsible for much of Faer?n's trouble-his idea was going to be hard enough to sell without adding any extra weight to Aris's opposition.

  Leaving Aris with a foolish smile, Storm returned to her seat and turned to Ruha.

  "Suppose we come to the point." Though her manner was brisk, her mood had been much improved by Aris's gift, and the concern behind her words seemed more a matter of time than displeasure. "I doubt you summoned me from the war in the Shaeradim so Aris could present his gift."

  Galaeron winced. One did not "summon" a Chosen of Mystra anywhere, and the fact that she had used that word to describe their request for an audience was not a good sign.

  If Ruha noticed the word choice, her eyes did not show it.

  "Galaeron has an idea. I think it could work." Ruha's gaze rose toward Aris's gray face and she added, "Aris does not."

  "And you asked me here to break the tie?"

  Noting the sarcasm in Storm's voice, Galaeron said, "I want to bring down Shade."

  Storm cocked a brow. "Bring it down?"

  "Like the old cities of Netheril," Galaeron explained. "Crash it into the desert"

  "If you're asking permission, feel free."

  "Actually, I can't do it alone." So far, so good-at least she liked the idea. To tell the truth, I need you and the other Chosen to do it for me."

  Storm rolled her eyes as though she had been expecting something of this sort

  "At the moment, we're rather busy trying to save the Shaeradim. I thought you might have heard."

  "And I am telling you how!" Galaeron snapped.

  He caught the flash of concern in Aris's eyes, then paused a moment to calm his rising ire.

  Finally, he asked, "Are you winning?"

  Storm's eyes slid away. "No. Lord Ramealaerub's advance has stalled at the Vyshaan Barrows."

  The Vyshaan Barrows?" Galaeron gasped. "What's he doing there?"

  "If s not a good base?"

  Galaeron shook his head. "It looks like it from below, but he can't reach Evereska from there," he said. "If the phaerimm come up the Copper Canyon, he'll be trapped against the High Shaeradim."

  Storm raised her brow and said, "I'll pass that along. Unfortunately, he's advancing blind."

  She let the statement hang, leaving it to Galaeron to ask if he wanted to hear the details. He didn't, but he had to know.

  "Blind?" he echoed. "I thought Takari Moonsnow was with him."

  "Lost the day the shadowshell fell." Storm's manner grew soft, and for the first time since Galaeron had known her he saw some of the softness portrayed in Aris's sculpture. "She eliminated a phaerimm that was delaying Lord Ramealaerub's advance."

  Galaeron fell back in his chair, his heart aching as though someone had punched him in it He had not seen Takari since shortly after their journey into Karse, when he had returned her, battered and bloody, to Rheitheillaethor and left her there to recover. They had never been lovers, bu
t he had finally come to accept-too late, after leaving her behind-that they were spirit-deep mates, linked on a level more profound than love. The choice to leave with Vala- another woman whom circumstances had forced him to abandon to a cruel fate-had been his own, but one made infinitely less complicated by Takari's harshness as she told him she hoped never to see him again. The thought that those words should be the last he ever heard from her filled him with a raw anguish-and with a bitter fury he knew to be not entirely his own that whispered to him that Storm was lying and demanded that he strike out at her.

  Instead, Galaeron lowered his chin and whispered a prayer, asking Takari to forgive his folly and begging the Leaflord to watch over her spirit.

  Storm laid a hand on Galaeron's arm-then took it away when his shadow recoiled from her touch and made him flinch.

  "You know, Galaeron, you could be very useful to Lord Ramealaerub," she said. "I doubt anyone in the elven army would be foolish enough to turn away your help."

  But there was always the question, Galaeron-or perhaps it was his shadow-thought. He was the one who had breached the Sharn Wall in the first place, then invited the Shadovar into the world to undo the damage. He was the cause of all this trouble, and even if they were wise enough not to say it to his face, he knew what his fellow elves would be whispering every time he turned his back.

  "Now that is a plan that makes sense," Aris said. "Why not return to the Shaeradim, where we can do some good fighting phaerimm?"

  Galaeron raised his chin and said, "Because we can't win the war by fighting phaerimm. Nor can we save Evereska that way."

  "This is the part that makes no sense," Aris said. "The phaerimm want the Shadovar killed, and the Shadovar want the phaerimm killed. Destroying Shade-even if you could- does not help Evereska."

  "But it does, Aris," Storm said. "The elves have little hope-I would say none-of defeating the phaerimm alone. The rest of Faer?n has been too weakened by the Melting to send help, and the few troops they do have must stay home to defend against the Shadovar. The Shadovar are in the same situation-they dare not engage the phaerimm for fear that the rest of the world will attack them and stop the Melting."

  It was a great relief to Galaeron that Storm was the one explaining this. Perhaps one of the Chosen could change the stubborn giant's mind.

  Aris burst that dream with a firm shake of his head.

  "It won't work."

  "Perhaps not at once," Ruha said, "but as the realms recover, they will be able to send troops to join the elves. Not even the phaerimm can stand against the combined might of all Faer?n."

  Aris crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  To Galaeron's surprise, Storm ignored the giant and turned to face him and Ruha.

  "Your plan works only if Shade's destruction is a swift one," she said.

  "Without its mythallar, the city will fall," Galaeron said. "The destruction will be instantaneous."

  Storm nodded.

  "That's what I thought you had planned for us. But how are we to enter the city? Shade's magic is proof against even us."

  Galaeron smiled and told her his plan.

  When he finished, Storm poured herself more wine, sat back, and thought it over. It took only a few moments before she drank the contents of the goblet and nodded.

  "It could work."

  "Wonderful!" Galaeron filled goblets for himself and Ruha. "We can be ready-"

  "I said could." Storm raised her hand to stop him, then looked to Aris and said, "Before deciding, I want to hear Aris's argument"

  The giant cast a guilty look in Galaeron's direction, then said, "Because Galaeron can't do it."

  Storm furrowed her brow.

  "What is there to do? All he need do is appear headstrong and careless." She glanced over at him, then added, "That is not out of character for him."

  "Afterward," the giant clarified. "Once he's in the city, his shadow will grow too strong. We'll lose him… and this time, I fear it will be for good."

  "That is a risk," Ruha agreed. "He's not strong enough to fight Telamont."

  Galaeron shrugged and said, "There is cost to every plan. I can resist long enough to make this one work. After that… well, I doubt the Chosen will find it difficult to eliminate the problem before it can grow out of hand."

  Storm studied him for a long time then said, "You would make that sacrifice?"

  Galaeron answered without hesitation, "I have lost more already."

  "And that is another wrong thing." Aris planted a big finger in the center of the table and nearly collapsed it. "When he is not talking of Evereska and what it is suffering, he is talking of Vala and what she is enduring. I say he is doing this to save her."

  Storm raised a cool gaze to the giant's face and asked, "Why would that be wrong?"

  Aris scowled and spent a moment trying to think of an argument, then gave up and looked away without answering.

  Storm looked back to Galaeron and remained just as silent

  Finally, he could bear her scrutiny no longer.

  "So you'll do it?" he asked.

  Instead of answering his question, Storm asked one of her own, "I want to be clear on this. If your shadow takes you, you're asking me to kill you?"

  Galaeron nodded.

  Storm shook her head. "No, Galaeron. If you want this, you must say it."

  "When…" Galaeron's throat went dry, and he had to stop and start again. "When, not if-because I am losing the battle even here-but when my shadow takes me, I want you to kill me. More than that, I want you to promise me now that you will. I've brought enough evil into this world through folly and accident. I have no wish to cause it directly."

  "If that is what you want, I promise," Storm replied. She stood and turned to Aris. "What about you, my large friend? Will you go with Galaeron?"

  "Him?" Galaeron asked, also standing. "This doesn't involve Aris. There's no need for him to return to Shade."

  Storm did not look away from the giant.

  "Aris goes everywhere with you, Galaeron," she said, "and he has vowed to avenge Thousand Faces. If he suddenly remains behind when you set off to fight the phaerimm, what will the Shadovar think?"

  "She's right," Ruha said. "They would grow suspicious, and that suspicion would spoil your plan. This must be done right… or not at all."

  Galaeron dropped his head. He had nearly killed Aris once already, during their escape from Shade when he had succumbed to his shadow self and used the giant to lure a blue dragon into an ambush. Had Storm not answered Ruha's call for help, Aris would have died, and this time there would be no one to call for help. If matters went wrong- even if they went right-it might well be the death of them both.

  Galaeron shook his head.

  "Then we won't do it" He raised his gaze, met Aris's eyes, and said, This is not something I would ask of you. You have already done more than I could expect even of an elf friend, and I will not see you killed."

  "You think that is why I don't like your plan? Because I fear for my life? That is an insult worse than any your shadow has ever spit out."

  Aris's big fist crashed down on the table, smashing it to pieces and sending splinters and shards of goblet flying in every direction.

  "You saved my life at Thousand Faces," the giant continued. "It is yours to spend."

  A tense silence settled over the courtyard. Galaeron was so shocked by the giant's s uncharacteristic show of anger that he did not dare look up to apologize.

  Finally, Storm rose.

  "I guess that settles it, then," she said. She used her hands to brush the wine off her leather armor. "Well look for you tomorrow, after dawn."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  15 Flamerule, the Year of Wild Magic

  To Malik's astonishment, Escanor was still glowing when he dared enter the presence of the Most High. The prince could be seen from fifty paces away, first as a dim, pearly ball floating beneath the copper flicker of his distinctive eyes, then as a luminous cage of ribs encasing a kern
el of pulsing light. A wave of stunned whispers followed him across the throne room, and as he drew closer Malik could see that Escanor was actually staggering. The mantle of shadow that usually served him as a body was bleeding away in wisps, bestowing on him a rather gauzy and serpentine appearance. Escanor stopped at the foot of the dais, his glow illuminating half a dozen younger princes who were coming up behind him. Though none were in as sorry a condition as Escanor, they had gone with him to attack the Chosen on the High Ice, and three were bleeding shadow from lesser wounds.

  Escanor bowed and would have fallen over, had one of his brothers not braved the ghostly light to lend him a hand.

  "I apologize for appearing before the Most High in this condition," he said.

  "As well you should," Hadrhune said. "It is an insult"

  "Indeed," Malik agreed, standing in his customary place just above Hadrhune. Having grown tired of the seneschal's jealousy over his position as Telamont's most trusted advisor- and weary of the constant assassination attempts-Malik had decided to try a strategy of alliance to placate the man. "If the Most High wanted us to see his face, he would show it to us himself… though I must admit I am curious to see it myself."

  He did not even cringe at this last part of his statement Much of the reason the Most High valued Malik's advice so highly was the curse placed on him by the harlot Mystra, which always compelled him to tell the truth when he spoke. Telamont Tanthul rarely chastised him for the embarrassing slips that this caused him-and sometimes even seemed to find them amusing.

  But not today. A set of icy talons sank into his shoulder, and a cold voice whispered into his ear.

  "Your curiosity on that count would kill you, my behorned friend, and slight a prince of mine again and you shall have it satisfied."

  Malik's mouth grew as dry as dust "I meant no offense, Most High…" He struggled to end there, but the truth welled up inside him and spilled from his mouth of its own accord. "At least to you, for I have always felt secure in your protection and completely free to insult whomever else I desired."

  The Most High removed his icy talons, patted Malik's shoulder, and said, "And now you don't"