Obsidian Ridge c-2

by Jess Lebow

  Xeries's memory came back to him then. This was the man who had opened the door to the barn at the end of their ritual.

  "You killed her," said Xeries, his sadness growing into anger. His words echoing each other as if Shylby were still there speaking them in unison with him.

  "I saw what you did to her," said the farmer. "Don't try to blame nothing on me."

  "It was you," said Xeries, reliving the moment in his head. "You interrupted our spell. You were the one who made me slip." He laid Shylby s head down on the floor and slowly got to his feet, not taking his eyes off of the man.

  The farmer started to twitch, clearly nervous. "You better tell me who you are before I run you through." He shook his pitchfork.

  "You killed her," Xeries said, pointing an accusing finger at the man. "You took her away from me. You ruined everything."

  Shoving his arms out at the farmer, a torrent of magic spilled from his hands. The air rippled and distorted as a shock wave blew the man backward, sending him smashing through the wooden wall of the barn.

  All of his sadness and frustration came bubbling to the surface. "You killed her," repeated Xeries, walking toward the man he'd just sent sailing away. "And now, I'm going to kill you."

  "Have you heard me?"

  Xeries watched the last of his memory play inside his head before answering. "No. I was… somewhere else."

  "We're here so that you can replace me. You've brought me here because I'm no longer useful to you, and you're going to cast me away, just as you have all the others. Isn't that right?"

  Xeries returned to the dais and climbed the steps. Setting his goblet down, he stood in front of his most recent wife.

  "I am not casting you away. We are here because this is where I was a young boy. This is where my bloodline started." He took hold of the veil and began lifting it over her head.

  She tried to take it from his grasp, but her hands were shaky and slow.

  "Please don't. Don't look at me."

  The veil came over her head, pilling up on the stone back of her throne. Underneath, her face was terribly wrinkled. Her cheeks were deep craters, her eyes nearly falling from her head, and her veins bulged as if they wanted to burst through the skin. She looked drained, like a shriveled fruit, sucked dry from the inside out. This was not the effect of a long life, running its course on the human body. This was something else.

  "Do you see what you have done to me?" she said, looking up at him with bloodshot, dried up eyes.

  "But your sacrifice has given me eternal life," he said. "Does that not please you?"

  "Does it matter? You have drained me, and I am no longer of any use. Now you will find another, and you will drain her too, all the while professing your love."

  Xeries nodded. "That is my burden, yes."

  "It is not a burden if you make someone else carry it," she said, gathering her veil and dropping it again over her withered face.

  Xeries sat back down in his throne, and resumed his waiting. His wife's life force would not last much longer, and he would need a new bride to drain, very soon. His patience was indeed running thin.

  Chapter Twenty

  King Korox paced the battlements on the outer wall of the palace. A fortress, it wasn't. Llorbauth had been selected as the capital for two reasons. First, it was centrally located to the rest of the baronies, so travel to the capital and communication with the king would be easier. And second, because Korox's father, King Valon didn't want his seat of power to be dominated by the threat of invasion. Choosing a palace on the edge of the kingdom meant they would constantly be on alert-ready to repel attackers at any moment. Deciding on a location in the center of the kingdom meant that it could be safe without so many defenses.

  He wanted the citizens to feel as if their king lived among them, not holed up in a stone and metal castle, unapproachable and unseen. He believed in the strength of his army and of the speed of his scouts. He believed that the business of the kingdom should be conducted in a place of safety. And the architecture of the palace reflected that.

  Korox might have thought his father short-sighted, except that he himself never would have imagined his kingdom invaded by a floating magical citadel. So he walked the few defenses that they had, looking for ways to improve them and working out a strategy for fighting the growing horde of gibbering black monsters massing under the Obsidian Ridge.

  He spoke with each of the unit commanders and gave encouragement to the soldiers manning the wall. From up here, he could see down on the entrance to the palace. The drawbridge was being lowered, and the contingent he'd sent to the docks was returning.

  Korox was eager to hear if they had any news. He'd sent them to deliver a message to the Matron, which in and of itself was not an easy task. They had been given five sealed envelopes, each an exact replica of the others. Inside was a simple letter from the king, addressed to the Matron, accepting the terms of her offer. He would turn over the Claw as soon as his Magistrates were able to locate and apprehend him. In return, the Matron would begin collecting her mages to help with a convocation. The exchange of the Claw for Princess Mariko would happen as soon as possible.

  The five letters were delivered to the five most notorious criminal lords in Erlkazar, each being asked to pass it along to the Matron. Korox hoped that at least one of those letters would make it to its destination. There was little else he could do, other than post handbills all over the docks.

  Working his way down into the great hall, the king greeted the contingent. He was relieved to see that all five messengers had returned.

  "How did you fare?"

  Five very young men, all sporting the official twin wyvern crest of the king, bowed before him, nervous from the attention they were receiving.

  The oldest among them, no more than eighteen years, stepped forward, cleared his throat, and spoke.

  "The letters have been delivered, my lord."

  "Any trouble? Any response?"

  The young man looked to the ground. "No trouble."

  The king put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Son, this is no time to shy away from the details. You have done your job, and you have done it well." He lifted the messenger's chin, looking him in the eye. "Now you must tell me everything.

  Even if you think I do not want to hear it." The young messenger nodded.

  "My lord, at least two of the letters were torn to shreds upon delivery," he said. "Two others were opened and read aloud. The men reading them laughed and threatened us. But we were not harmed."

  "And the last?"

  "It was received, and we were asked to leave. No trouble, but we do not know the fate of it."

  The king smiled. "You did well. All of you. There is a commission to the Magistrates for any of you who so wish it."

  The boys looked to each other, clearly excited.

  "But I have one last task for you before you take on your new duties," said the king. "Gather up all the royal messengers in the palace. Send them out in all directions. Spread the word. We need every spellcaster in Erlkazar to come to our aid. I'm calling a convocation. If Xeries wants a fight, we will give it to him."

  "Yes, my lord," said the oldest. "Thank you, my lord."

  The drawbridge had not even finished being raised when it began coming down again. The king looked up from his messengers to see Lady Herrin and her entourage riding into the palace. She had with her what appeared to be a lynch mob of wealthy merchants, all wearing gaudy clothing, all frowning and pinched, like they were holding their entire fortunes in their buttocks by simply squeezing them together.

  "This is an outrage!" shouted Lady Herrin before she was even inside the palace.

  The king looked to the Magistrate captain who was on duty at the portcullis, then he pointed to the cadre of merchants.

  Lady Herrin and her horde were surrounded by soldiers and forced to stop, just outside of the great hall.

  Being stopped by armed guards didn't seem to bother her, and she continued to sho
ut at the king.

  "Get your men out of our marketplace!" she demanded. "The Magistrates are making people nervous, and our businesses are suffering."

  "The Magistrates are there for your protection!" replied King Korox, shouting at her as she shouted at him, not bothering to close the distance. "If you haven't noticed, the kingdom is under attack."

  "How are we supposed to operate with your thugs roaming between the stalls, looking into every alleyway, and scaring our customers?"

  "Your customers have nothing to fear from the Magistrates, and neither do you. That is, unless what you are selling is illegal. Tell me Lady Herrin. Are you trying to sell illegal goods? Elixir perhaps?"

  "You listen to me, Korox. You need us, and you-know it. And we won't stand for you telling us what we can and cannot sell. So you just keep your Magistrates out of our marketplace, or you will get no favors from us." She turned her horse around. "Keep your nose out of our business, or you will be sorry."

  She gave her mount a nudge. "We're leaving," she said to the other merchants. Each member of her contingent took their turn riding up to the wall of soldiers, glaring at the king, then riding off.

  "Rumor is that Clusterfang was an ally of the Twisted Rune," explained Evelyne, crawling along in the tunnel behind the Claw. "There should be an opening to your right. Check first to make sure nothing's there before you go in."

  "That thing? In with the most secretive organization in all of Faerun?" Ahead and to his right, just as the half-elf had said, was an opening. Palm first, he poked his head inside and looked around. "All clear," he said, and he pulled himself into a small chamber with nothing in it except a heavy wooden door.

  "That's the rumor I heard," said Evelyne, coming out of the tunnel into the cramped room. "Then again, I suppose information in this place is not the most reliable."

  "Where did you hear this rumor?"

  "A little gnome told me."

  "A gnome?"

  "Yeah, a gnome," she said, stretching her limbs. "He showed up here a few months ago." "And where is this gnome now?" Evelyne shrugged. "Dead."

  He'd only known her for a short time, but the Claw was already realizing that Evelyne had a bad habit of leaving out the tantalizing details from her stories.

  Finishing her stretches and dusting herself off, Evelyne said, "Well, it's been a pleasure. See you around some time, if you don't get killed."

  "Wait," said the Claw. "I need your help."

  "Uh, no thanks." Slapping him on the arm, she turned and headed for the door.

  "No really," pleaded the Claw. "I need to find something, and you're my only hope."

  "Now why would I want to go and do a fool thing like help you?"

  The Claw was at a loss for reasons. "Well… because I asked?"

  "Yeah, right." She pulled on the door.

  "Wait. Wait. What is it you want?"

  Evelyne stopped, the door cracked open. "You mean other than to get out?" She thought for a moment. "I guess that's it really. Just get out. And as long as we're day-dreaming, I don't ever want to get sent back here. Never ever."

  "How did you get put here? The king doesn't hand out sentences to the Cellar lightly."

  Evelyne shifted her weight. "That's no business of yours. Let's just say I deserved it."

  "How long have you been here?"

  "A year," she said. "Give or take a few months. It's hard to tell time in a place like this." "That's a long time."

  "I'm a patient woman," she said. She pulled the door open wide. "I'll be seeing you."

  "What if I told you I could get you out of here?" Evelyne stopped. "I'm listening."

  "What if I could not only get you out of here, but I could also get you a full pardon-get you cleared completely. That you could go back to your old life, no longer a criminal."

  "You could do that?"

  "Only if you help me."

  She rubbed her chin, considering his offer. "What is it you're searching for anyway?"

  "The woman I love," said the Claw. -

  Evelyne shook her head. "You came down here to find your woman." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, still thinking. Then she threw her hands in the air. "Hells, what else have I got to do? Very well. You've got a deal. Escape from this place and a full pardon." She put her hand out. "Shake on it."

  The Claw put out his hand, but Evelyne pulled away.

  "On second thought," she said, looking at his bladed gauntlets, "maybe it's safer to make this a verbal agreement."

  "That'll teach you."

  Mariko looked out through blurry eyes. She blinked. "Where am I?"

  "You're in the Cellar, and you're lucky to be alive."

  The princess shook her head. It felt thick, full of liquid, and there was a dull throbbing in her temple. "The Cellar?" It was hard to think with all the cobwebs in her brain.

  A sudden chill ran down her spine. It was starting to all come back. "The spiders?"

  "They would have eaten you, had we not arrived when we did."

  Mariko sat up on the hard stone. Her head spun, and her stomach lurched. Before she could do anything about it, her innards revolted, and she vomited all over the ground.

  "You might want to try moving a little slower. You got a pretty big dose of venom from that spider."

  Mariko laid herself back down on the cold stone and closed her eyes. The violent revolt inside her body slowly subsided, but the throbbing in her head was now worse, and she did still feel a little queasy.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  "You don't remember?"

  She tried to think back on the last thing she remembered. She could hear the clicking noises, and see the spider clinging to the pillar. After that it was hazy.

  "Not… not really."

  "It'll come to you."

  The princess felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You need to drink this." The hand gently rolled her to her side, and she felt the edge of a vial touch her lips.

  Opening her eyes again, she looked down on the milky liquid. "What is it?"

  "It's more anti-venom. You've been drinking it in small doses for almost a full day now."

  The princess nodded and took the vial, drinking the potion inside. When she finished, she wiped her dry lips on the back of her hand and looked up at her caregiver. As her vision came into focus, Jallal Tasca's distorted face came into view.

  "I never thought I'd see you trying to keep me alive."

  Jallal chuckled. "Let's just say you are more valuable to us alive as a bargaining chip than as a dead adversary." He stood up from where he was crouching beside Mariko. "But don't let it go to your head, Princess. You're still going to die. Just not yet."

  Jallal turned and walked away, his hoofed feet clicking on the stone floor. "Come get me when she can stand without vomiting," he said to the two nearby guards. "And keep your eyes open for any unwanted guests. Who knows what could be wandering these halls?"

  Chapter Twenty-one

  In the dying rays of the sun's light, a burly half-ore lifted a crate of Elixir and carried it to the end of the dock. He handed it to a dark-skinned human.

  "Start a new row," growled the half-ore.

  The dark-skinned man grunted as he took the heavy crate and placed it on the floor of the boat, next to another stack of crates. "How many more are there?"

  The half-ore turned around and knelt on the dock, taking a breather to count the remaining crates. "A lot," he said.

  " A lot' doesn't tell me very much, Kleegor."

  The half-ore wiped the sweat off of his face with his hairy forearm. "It's more than we've loaded already, Talish."

  "That is a lot," replied the dark-skinned man.

  Kleegor got back to his feet and retrieved another crate. Then he returned to hand it to Talish. "Did you get one of those letters?"

  "You mean the ones from the king? Yeah, I got one."

  "What did you do with it?" asked Kleegor.

  "What do you think I did with it?" said Talish,
straining to talk as he put the crate in its place. "I made a show of tearing it up in front of the messenger, then I took it to the Matron. How 'bout you? You get one?"

  "Yep."

  "Did you read it first?"

  "Yep."

  "Yeah," said Talish, "so did I."

  "What do you think? You think he'll really turn over the Claw?"

  Talish shrugged. "Dunno."

  Kleegor grabbed another crate then came back. "What if he doesn't? Or what if the Magistrates don't find him?"

  "I dunno. What if? So we don't have the Claw, so what?"

  "So, will the Matron turn over the princess to Xeries? Even if she doesn't have the Claw?"

  Talish looked up at the sky. "It's getting pretty late, huh?"

  "That's what I mean," said the half-ore. "Those… things… those black beasts have been waiting under the Obsidian Ridge all day."

  "And?"

  "And," said the half-ore, a little perturbed, "they have pretty big teeth." "I noticed."

  "And what if the Matron does get the Claw before moonrise?"

  Talish rolled his eyes. "I dunno. What if?"

  "Well," said Kleegor, "will the king sacrifice his only daughter?"

  "I sure wouldn't," replied Talish. "Not for this place." The half-ore made another run down the dock, hurrying back. "So what if we were to go ahead with our original plan?" "What plan?"

  "You know, to assassinate the king."

  Talish put the crate down and turned back to Kleegor. "What good would that do?"

  "Well," said the half-ore, "if the king is dead, then the Matron will have no choice but to turn the princess over to this Xeries."

  "Why do you think that?"

  "Who else is going to negotiate for the safety of the princess? The queen has been dead for almost a year. And there's a huge floating citadel menacing the kingdom that will go away if we just turn her over." Kleegor puffed up his chest, rather proud of himself for his reasoning skills. "Seems like we can just wash our hands of the whole thing and go about our business."