Lady Ruin: An Eberron Novel

by Tim Waggoner

  Up to this point, Elidyr had taken no direct part in the fighting. He’d simply stood by and watched as Lirra and the others engaged his creatures and fought desperately to stop them. Four of the Outguard had been killed, and two others had sustained wounds, though they continued to battle on. It was clear to Lirra that if things kept going as they were, it was only a matter of time before she, Ranja, and the Outguard were dead, and Elidyr was victorious.

  “This has all been great fun, but I have work to do,” Elidyr said. “Time to finish this. But how? It has to be something good. After all, I don’t want to do second-rate work, not where my brother and niece are concerned.”

  Elidyr reached up to stroke his beard, looking thoughtful. A moment later a gleam came into his eyes, and his mouth slowly stretched into a broad smile.

  “I know just the thing!”

  He raised his hands over his head and released a blast of chaos energy. Lirra felt it slam into her, and she staggered backward, suddenly disoriented. Her allies were similarly affected, and several of the surviving Outguard actually went down on their knees, unable to remain standing upright. Lirra expected that the white-eyes would take advantage of the situation to press their attack, but instead they broke off fighting, turned, and started walking unhurriedly toward Elidyr. They gathered in a group before him and huddled together, pressing their bodies tight one against the other. As they pressed, their flesh began to run like melting butter, and the white-eyes merged into a single large shapeless mass. No longer needed, their clothing slid away and piled on the street, and the skin of the combined creatures took on a whitish hue that resembled the eyes that were no longer visible. Dozens of tentacles extruded from the mass and shot toward Lirra and her allies, encircling waists, arms, and necks like bands of iron.

  One white-fleshed tentacle caught Lirra’s sword arm by the wrist, and though she struggled, she was unable to free herself. Her symbiont struck at the tentacle, stinging it with its barbed tip several times in rapid succession, but though the whitish flesh took on a black tinge and the tentacle’s grip slackened, it didn’t weaken enough for Lirra to pull loose.

  Everyone else was similarily bound by the white mass—everyone, that was, but Sinnoch, Lirra noted—and though they too tried their best to win free, they were held fast. Even the warforged were unable to get loose. Each of the constructs had multiple tentacles holding him by the arms and legs, and around the chest and waist, their sheer number negating the constructs’ strength. And then, slowly, inexorably, the tentacles began to retract into the central mass, pulling its victims toward it.

  Elidyr laughed and clapped his hands like a delighted child.

  “I wasn’t certain that was going to work. I’m so glad it did!”

  Those Outguard members who’d remained on their horses—Vaddon and Ksana included—had been pulled off by the tentacles, and a number of riderless mounts stood in the street. Several of the steeds fled, terrified by the inhuman monstrosity in their midst, but these were warhorses, trained to stand steady in the face of battle, and many of them remained where they were. Elidyr walked up to the mount Vaddon had been using and swung into the saddle with an easy grace that Lirra had never known him to possess before. It seemed the touch of the daelkyr lord had done more to transform his body than she’d thought. The horse—a black gelding—was less than thrilled to have this human and his three symbionts sitting upon his back, but his training held and he did not rear or buck.

  “Farewell, everyone,” Elidyr said. “I’d love to stay and see what happens to you when you’re pulled into the main mass, but I’ve dawdled here long enough, and it really is time for me to take my leave.” He pulled on his mount’s reins and the horse turned toward Sinnoch. “Are you ready, my friend? And do you have what we need?”

  “I am, and I do.” The dolgaunt reached behind him to pat a pack tied to the back of his saddle, and with a sinking feeling, Lirra realized what it contained—the Overmantle.

  “Excellent! Then we can be off.” Elidyr turned away from Sinnoch. “Choose a horse and hop on, Rhedyn. It’s time to leave.”

  At first Lirra didn’t understand what her uncle was talking about, but then she saw that the white tentacles had left Rhedyn alone just as they had Sinnoch. Rhedyn stood in the street, looking like a living shadow, and as Lirra watched, the dark aspect faded until Rhedyn resembled a man standing in light shade, despite the fact the sun was shining down upon him. The implications struck her as hard as any blow from the hammer-fisted warforged ever could have. Rhedyn was in league with Elidyr and Sinnoch. Despite the evidence of her own eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. She told herself it was just more of Elidyr’s insane ramblings and couldn’t possibly be real.

  “Rhedyn!” Lirra called out. “You can’t go with them! You’re a member of the Outguard and a soldier of Karrnath! Stay with us, fight with us!” She wanted to say: Stay with me! but she couldn’t make herself speak the words.

  Rhedyn gave her a look that was impossible to read before turning away and walking to the nearest horse. He swung himself up into the saddle, took hold of the reins, and then, with a last look at Lirra, he turned the horse about, touched his heels to the horse’s sides, flicked the reins, and the animal began galloping down the street. Elidyr and Sinnoch followed close behind.

  Lirra watched them ride off, despair welling up inside her. But the feeling was quickly choked off by a rising tide of anger. She remembered his visit to her bedchamber on the night before the test of the Overmantle, remembered the things he’d said, the feelings he’d attempted to express … Nothing but lies.

  Fury roared through her like a firestorm, and she vowed that whatever else happened, she would not die this day, absorbed into a disgusting mass of flesh. If nothing else, she’d survive to make certain that Rhedyn paid for his betrayal of the Outguard—and for betraying her.

  The thing the white-eyes had merged into had continued pulling Lirra and the others toward it while Elidyr, Sinnoch, and Rhedyn rode off, and they were within three yards of the main mass. At this rate, Lirra judged they had a minute at most before they were pulled into the pile of flesh, and what would happen then? Would their own flesh and bones liquefy as they became part of the creature? Or would they merely suffocate as their air was cut off? The warforged would likely survive in either event, but the rest of them would not. Lirra thought furiously, determined not to die before she could have her vengeance. She found herself remembering a lesson her father had taught her long ago, when she was a child learning to spar with a wooden practice sword.

  “Every opponent has a weakness,” he’d told her. “The trick is figuring out what it is in time to do you any good.”

  Assuming this creature had a weakness, what could it possibly be? And how could they exploit it in the few seconds remaining to them? Lirra rapidly went over what she knew about the monstrous conglomerate. It was comprised of the bodies of people whom Elidyr had reshaped into mindless, supernaturally strong servants. He’d transformed them using powers granted to him by a daelkyr lord, powers that originated in Xoriat, the Realm of Madness. She didn’t know if those powers were, strickly speaking, evil, at least in a metaphysical sense, but they seemed close enough to her. And if they were based in evil, that meant …

  “Ksana!” she called out.

  Though Lirra couldn’t see every member of the Outguard, for the fleshy mass of the creature stood before her and some of the others, she could still see the cleric. The woman was off to her left, and Lirra was glad to see she’d managed to retain hold of her halberd.

  The half-elf’s face was scrunched in concentration as she hacked at the tentacle encircling her waist with her halberd, but whatever damage she inflicted healed before she could strike again.

  “What?” Ksana called back, not pausing in her attack on the tentacle that gripped her.

  “Do you remember what you did at the Battle of Corran Ridge?”

  At first Ksana looked at Lirra without comprehension,
but then awareness slowly filtered into her gaze. “But that was an entirely different situation! The creature they sent at us was a battalion of Karrnathi zombies that had been abducted and merged into a single massive creature! This thing isn’t undead! I don’t know if I can—”

  “It’s evil, isn’t it? Besides, whatever the damned thing is, it’s going to be the death of us in less than a minute if someone doesn’t do something!”

  Lirra thought the cleric was going to protest further, but instead she nodded and then turned to face the conglomerate creature. Her expression grew placid, almost serene, and Lirra knew she was preparing her spirit for what was to come. And then Ksana gripped her halberd tight and stopped resisting the pull of the fleshy mass that had been the white-eyes. Instead she ran toward it, her halberd blazing with bright light as the cleric channeled the power of her goddess—the power of the sun—into her weapon. When the half-elf reached the main mass of the creature, she raised her halberd high and cried out, “In the name of Dol Arrah, I command you to begone, foul thing!”

  And Ksana brought the halberd down upon the creature with all of her might, burying the axe head into its pulpy flesh.

  Dazzling light burst forth from the wound Ksana made, and though the creature possessed no mouth, Lirra heard its death cry in her mind, accompanied by a pain like someone had jammed a white-hot dagger blade into one ear and out the other. But there was another voice within her mind. Voices, actually. Men, women, and children, all of them saying the same thing: Thank you.

  And then the conglomerate creature exploded like an overripe melon, and a putrid, viscous slime gushed onto the street. The tentacles gripping Lirra and the others fell limp and collapsed to the ground, releasing them. The Outguard soldiers didn’t stand around once they were free though. They rushed forward and began hacking away at the creature’s remains with their swords, just to make sure the damned thing was dead. Lirra wasn’t concerned about the creature anymore. She was worried about Ksana. The cleric, now that her work was done, staggered back from the remains of the creature, dragging her halberd because she was too weak to lift it. Her face was pale, her eyes unfocused, and Lirra knew Ksana was on the verge of collapse. The same thing had happened at Corran’s Ridge, and Lirra remembered how Ksana had explained it to her afterward.

  “I don’t perform miracles, child. Dol Arrah does. I’m just the tool she uses to work her will in the world. But while my goddess has no limitations, the same can’t be said about her servants. We are a vessel for Dol Arrah’s holy might, but a mortal body can only channel so much divine power without sustaining damage. Stopping that undead monstrosity was nearly the death of me. I hope the goddess never calls on me to do anything like that again—at least, not anytime soon!”

  Lirra saw her father heading for Ksana as well. No doubt he remembered what had happened at Corran’s Ridge as well as Lirra did. After all, the general had been in command that day.

  Ksana’s legs began to buckle. Lirra flicked her left arm, and the tentacle whip sailed toward Ksana and wrapped around the cleric’s midsection just in time to prevent her falling. Ksana’s body went limp as she lost consciousness, but the symbiont held her upright. Shock showed on Vaddon’s face, only to be quickly replaced by outrage.

  Lirra and her father made it to Ksana at the same time. The general started to reach toward the cleric, but then he fixed his gaze upon the tentacle whip and withdrew his hands. He then looked at his daughter, fury blazing in his eyes.

  “How dare you touch a holy woman with that unclean thing!” Vaddon said. “Remove it at once!”

  Lirra was hurt by her father’s tone and the expression of loathing on his face.

  “I’ll withdraw the symbiont,” she said. “Just make sure you’re ready to catch Ksana when I do.”

  Vaddon nodded. Lirra commanded the tentacle whip to release the cleric, and the symbiont slowly unwrapped itself from around the half-elf’s waist. Vaddon was ready, and he easily caught the cleric’s slight frame with his armored hands. He cradled her in his arms as if she were a child as the tentacle whip coiled around Lirra’s left arm once more and lay still. Evidently the symbiont’s lust for violence had been sated, at least for the time being.

  Vaddon looked at her, his expression difficult to read. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, as if thinking better of it, and turned his attention away from Lirra to check on Ksana.

  Lirra looked away from her father to examine the aftermath of the battle. The people of Geirrid, who’d wisely remained hidden during the struggle with the conglomerate beast, poked their heads out of doorways and windows to see if it was safe to go back outside. The Outguard soldiers had finished carving up the creature’s remains, and they were using its tentacles to haul the larger chunks into the gutter so they’d be out of the way. Garrison soldiers would be dispatched later to clear away the mess, although Lirra didn’t know if there would be anything for them to clean up. The creature’s flesh was beginning to liquefy at a fairly rapid rate, and Lirra wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t anything left before long. Ranja had assumed her fully human form once more, and she grumbled to herself as she scraped her boots against the street curb to get the viscous muck off them.

  Lirra turned to see Osten approaching.

  “Are you all right, Lirra?” The young warrior had sheathed his sword, and though he was sweaty from his exertions, he appeared little the worse for wear.

  “I’m unwounded,” Lirra said. She was glad to see that Osten looked at her directly, without suspicion or loathing in his gaze. The other Outguard soldiers kept sneaking glances at her, and while she had once been second in command over them, they now looked at her as if she were a stranger, and a dangerous one at that. But Osten had been host to the same symbiont she now carried, and if there was anyone in the Outguard who could understand what it was like for her, it was him.

  Osten gave her a sad smile. “I wasn’t referring to your physical health,” he said softly.

  She remembered then that Osten had fought back to back with Rhedyn against the white-eyes, and he’d no doubt witnessed Rhedyn betray them as he’d departed with Elidyr and Sinnoch.

  “I’m fine.” It was a lie, and from the look on Osten’s face, he knew it, but the young warrior had the good grace to nod and say nothing more about the matter.

  While Lirra had been talking with Osten, Ksana had recovered enough to stand on her own feet. Vaddon stepped away from her and approached Lirra. As he came, he drew his sword and leveled it at her. There was sadness in his gaze, but his voice was steady as he spoke.

  “Lirra Brochann, in the name of King Kaius and his code, I place you under arrest.”

  Vaddon stopped when his sword point was a foot away from Lirra’s heart, and though she could see the conflict in her father’s eyes over holding a weapon on his own daughter, his hand remained steady and the sword point never wavered.

  “You can’t be serious, General!” Osten said. “Lirra is one of us!”

  Vaddon’s gaze flicked toward Lirra’s left arm. “Not anymore,” he said, his voice now thick with the emotions he struggled to contain. “Please, Lirra … don’t resist. Let me help you.”

  Vaddon was pleading with her in the same way she had with Elidyr, and the irony didn’t escape her. Out of the corner of her eye, Lirra noted the remaining Outguard soldiers moving in to surround her. She was also aware of Osten taking up a defensive stance next to her, and she knew he intended to fight with her, should it come to that. Ranja just stood off to the side, watching, as did Ksana, the cleric still too weak to participate in the drama unfolding before her.

  Lirra had no doubt that she could escape if she wished to. She could use her whip to poison the soldiers if she wished, direct its barb to put out their eyes or command it to coil around their necks and snap them with a twist, and she would be free to go after her uncle. Elidyr was still at large, and now he had the Overmantle in his possession once more. He would be able to repair it in shor
t order, and once the device was functional again, there would be nothing to stop him from opening a doorway to Xoriat, releasing the daelkyr lord and who knew what other abominations into their world. And she wanted to catch up to Rhedyn and demand to know how he could betray them like that, how he could betray her. All it would take was a single thought, a slight loosening of her mental reins, and her symbiont would do the rest. The tentacle whip would strike, Vaddon would go down, and she could flee to do what had to be done.

  The thought-voice whispered in her mind then.

  Do it! Rhedyn isn’t the only one who’s betrayed you this day. Your own father has drawn his sword against you. How many times have the two of you fought on the same battlefield? You supported each other after the deaths of your mother and brother, found a way to keep going when the grief seemed like it would swallow you both whole. And now here you stand, in the middle of a slime-covered street in Geirrid, and your father is demanding your arrest. Strike him down! He deserves nothing less!

  Lirra’s left hand twitched, and she felt the tentacle whip begin to uncoil from around her forearm, but then she regained control and commanded the symbiont to remain where it was. The whip was less than pleased but did as it was told.

  Lirra still held onto her own sword, and she sheathed it. Then she bowed her head.

  “I’ll go with you, Father.”

  A number of emotions passed rapidly across Vaddon’s face: relief, guilt, and sorrow. He then ordered his soldiers to take his daughter into custody. Osten stepped back, evidently unwilling to comply with Vaddon’s order, but he made no move to stop the other soldiers as they advanced. Lirra was glad. She didn’t want Osten getting hurt trying to defend her—especially when she didn’t want to be defended.

  As a pair of soldiers grabbed her arms, the thought-voice whispered in her mind once more.