by Tim Waggoner
“What do you think?” Elidyr asked.
Sinnoch grinned. “It suits you, my friend.”
Elidyr’s answering smile was lopsided and his eyes blazed fiercly. “My thoughts precisely.”
It shouldn’t have been possible for her uncle to have three symbionts attached to his body. There shouldn’t have been enough blood in him to sustain more than one aberration, and the strain on his system of hosting three should’ve killed him. But he looked perfectly healthy. Almost too much so, as if bonding with the symbionts had increased the strength of his life-force. Perhaps it had something to do with the power generated by the Overmantle-or with the chaos energy that had filtered through the portal to Xoriat. Whichever the case, not only did Elidyr appear to be suffering no ill effects from fusing with the symbionts, he appeared stronger than ever. And from the wild, mad expression on his face, he had become completely insane.
If bonding with the symbionts had driven him to lunacy, then he was a greater threat than all of the aberrations combined. For he still stood before the Overmantle, and though it was now shut down, he might well choose to reactivate it again-and reopen the portal to Xoriat. And this time, whatever was on the other side might well make it all the way through.
Lirra glanced at Ksana and saw the cleric was still tending to her injured father. With the other soldiers dead, that left only Rhedyn to help Lirra deal with her uncle. She’d lost track of Rhedyn in all the confusion, but she found him standing next to the body of the woman he’d slain. He stood watching Elidyr, sword held at his side, the dark aspect of his shadow sibling full upon him, so that he appeared to be standing in deep shadow. Lirra had a difficult time making out his facial features, but his expression seemed to be one of wonder and … she wasn’t certain, but she thought it might be satisfaction. What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t just be standing there! He was a soldier; he should be fighting!
A thought whispered through her mind. He’s one of us …
I’m not US! Lirra thought, but in response the tentacle whip only coiled more tightly around her forearm.
“Rhedyn!” she shouted. “Help me!”
He didn’t react at first, and Lirra feared that something had happened to his mind during the time the Xoriat portal had been open. But then he turned to her and slowly smiled behind the shadow that cloaked him. The sight of that smile hit Lirra like a blow to the gut. Rhedyn-her Rhedyn-had gone mad just like Elidyr. Following on the heels of that thought was a worse one: What if he’d been mad for some time now, perhaps from the moment he’d fused with his shadow sibling? She remembered the words he’d spoken during his visit to her room last night.
I cannot-will not-give up my shadow sibling. As an impure prince, I can serve Karrnath in ways others could never hope to. And as long as I remain bound to a symbiont, I will repulse you physically. But if you were to accept a symbiont …
Of course Rhedyn was smiling, for he’d gotten his wish. She was bound to a symbiont. At least for the moment. But as long as that was the case, she might as well make some use of the damned thing.
She turned away from Rhedyn and started toward Elidyr.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It looks like I’m not the only one who’s made a new friend today,” Elidyr said, eyeing the tentacle whip coiled about her arm. He nodded approvingly. “It suits you, Lirra.”
She felt an intense surge of rage at her uncle’s words. He’d become a loathsome monstrosity, as much an aberration as the dolgaunt standing next to him, an unclean, unnatural thing that needed to be removed from the world, and she wanted nothing more than to strike him down. Her fingers tightened on her sword, and she felt the coils of the tentacle whip go slack around her forearm as it prepared to attack.
It was the whip’s reaction that helped her understand why she felt such rage. The whip was using the repugnance she felt upon seeing her uncle’s transformation to goad her into attacking him. She hadn’t realized the creature could be that subtle. There was no way she was going to allow the tentacle whip to control her, and so she stopped three feet from her uncle and lowered her sword to her side.
She gritted her teeth against the rage still roiling inside her and forced herself to speak calmly. “I don’t know what went wrong with the experiment, Uncle, but you have to let us help you. You can’t survive long with three symbionts attached to your body.”
Elidyr grinned at Lirra as if what she’d said was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. But it wasn’t her uncle who responded to her words: It was Sinnoch.
“If your uncle was an ordinary human, you’d be correct,” the dolgaunt said. “But he’s become something more, something better. He’s far more than a mere human now.” The dolgaunt paused, and though it didn’t have eyebrows exactly, Lirra had the impression the creature frowned. “Though to be honest, I’m not certain precisely what he is, but I imagine we’ll have a great deal of fun trying to find out. Don’t you?”
You should kill him too, whispered a voice in her mind, and she’d have been hard-pressed to say whether the thought originated with her or the symbiont. Again she felt the rage, so strong this time that it nearly overwhelmed her, but she fought it down and managed to stay in control, if only just.
“Be silent, dolgaunt,” she said. “I’m not talking to you; I’m talking to my uncle.”
Sinnoch’s inhuman mouth twisted into an amused smile, but from the way the tendrils on top of his head writhed, Lirra knew the dolgaunt was irritated with her. She’d never been able to read the aberration’s body language before, and she realized that becoming bonded with the tentacle whip had somehow granted her a deeper understanding of the denizens of Xoriat. But sympathy did not accompany that understanding. She still wanted to ram her sword blade into the dolgaunt’s cadaverous chest and thrust the needle-sharp tip through his heart-assuming the foul thing even had a heart. But she resisted. Just because she was bound to a symbiont didn’t make her a creature like Sinnoch. Not even close. As satisfying as it would be to destroy the dolgaunt-and the way she felt right now, it would be most satisfying indeed-Lirra was a highly trained soldier, and she only killed when there was no other course of action available to her.
A sullen thought drifted through her mind: Spoilsport.
“Nothing went wrong today, child,” Elidyr said. “Everything went very, very right.” He flexed the fingers of his crawling gauntlet, and the stormstalk draped around his shoulders swayed back and forth, keeping Lirra fixed with its single overlarge eye. “I’ve been cooped up in this damned lodge too long. I’d like to take a stroll, get out and stretch my legs a bit. I see things so very differently than I did before. I wonder what the world will look like through these new eyes of mine.” He grinned. “I can’t wait to find out.” He turned toward Sinnoch. “Look after the Overmantle for me, will you? I’ll be back for it.”
The dolgaunt inclined his head. “As you wish.”
Elidyr then looked over to where Ksana was ministering to his fallen brother. “I’d say farewell to Vaddon, but it appears as if he’s somewhat preoccupied at the moment.” He turned back to Lirra, still grinning. “Be a good girl and tell your father that while I’ve enjoyed working together, I think it’s time I went into business for myself. And as for you, my dear, have fun with your new pet. I think the two of you are going to get along magnificently.”
And with that, Elidyr began walking toward the chamber’s exit.
Lirra started after him. “I can’t let you go, Uncle. You’re not in your right mind, and in your condition, you’re a danger to yourself and others.”
Elidyr stopped and turned around to face her. His grin was even wider than before, and his gaze shone bright with madness.
“My sweet child, you have no idea what a danger I truly am.”
Elidyr made no movement, but the stormstalk perched on his shoulders suddenly stiffened and a bolt of lightning blasted forth from its eye. Crackling energy struck Lirra full on the chest. She staggered backward as pain coursed throug
h her body and her muscles went rigid. Her vision grayed at the edges and she thought she would lose consciousness, but as quickly as it came, the pain receded, her muscles unlocked, and her vision cleared.
You’re stronger now, a voice whispered inside her. We’re stronger …
Without thinking, she flicked her left arm forward, and the tentacle whip uncoiled, sending its barbed tip flying toward Elidyr’s face. Moving with inhuman speed, the artificer raised his crawling gauntlet in time to intercept the whip. Crustacean-like claws closed around the whip’s barb, and Elidyr gave a vicious yank. The artificer was now far stronger than he had been before becoming fused with his symbionts and receiving the touch of a daelkyr lord, and Lirra-unable to resist his strength-was pulled stumbling toward Elidyr. Overwhelming fury surged through her. She was a Karrnathi warrior, and she refused to be defeated!
She still retained a grip on her sword, and she brought it swinging around in a wide arc toward the stormstalk, determined to slice through the grotesque thing and, if possible, through her uncle’s neck as well. Part of her was horrified at the realization that she was ready to kill Elidyr when only a moment before she’d wanted to help him. But that part was as nothing compared to the white-hot battle-fury raging inside her, and she gave herself over to it completely, unable to resist.
Elidyr opened his mouth wide and the tongueworm shot forth. It wrapped around Lirra’s wrist and pushed her sword arm upward, deflecting her strike. The blade whistled through the air above Elidyr’s head, doing no damage to either the stormstalk or its master. She fought to bring her sword back in a reverse strike, but the tongueworm held her arm fast, preventing her.
Two can play at this game, she thought.
She gave a mental command to the tentacle whip, and though its barbed tip was still held tightly in Elidyr’s gauntlet, it had plenty of length left to fight with. Its coils extended upward toward the artificer’s head, looped around his neck, and began to squeeze. However strong Elidyr had become and whatever fell powers he now possessed, he still needed to breathe.
Elidyr had been grinning the entire time they fought, and though his face began to turn a dark red as the tentacle whip strangled him, his grin didn’t waver. The stormstalk swiveled its head toward the whip and unleashed another bolt of lightning, but though Lirra felt the same agony course through her body as before as the energy passed through the whip and into her, she was ready for the pain now, and it came and went quickly. Let the damned stalk loose bolt after bolt of energy at her. She’d endure the pain and stand strong while Elidyr’s lungs cried out for air. It would only take a few moments before he lost consciousness, and a few more after that for him to die. And then she, with but a single symbiont, would’ve defeated an opponent who wielded three! A glorious victory indeed!
No! We can’t kill him! she thought.
Watch us! came the reply, and she couldn’t tell if the thought was the whip’s, hers, or if it belonged to them both.
The coils tightened further around Elidyr’s neck, and the artificer’s face edged toward deep purple. Still grinning, he raised his left hand, the one without the gauntlet, and extended it palm forward toward Lirra. The air around the artificer’s hand wavered, like heat distortion rising off the ground in the summertime. A sudden wave of vertigo gripped Lirra and her stomach twisted with nausea. Her vision blurred, sharpened, blurred again, and all the strength drained out of her body. Her muscles were weak as water, and she slumped to the floor, dropping her sword in the process. Whatever Elidyr was doing, it affected the tentacle whip as well. The symbiont’s coils loosened around Elidyr’s throat, and he released its barbed end from the grip of his crawling gauntlet. The whip hung slack from the artificer’s neck, and Elidyr reached up with both hands and easily removed the coils from around his neck and dropped them to the floor. The tongueworm then released its grip on Lirra’s wrist and retracted into Elidyr’s body. When the worm was once again concealed, the artificer gazed down at his niece.
“Did you enjoy that? It’s a little taste of Xoriat chaos energy. Don’t worry. You’ll recover in due course, though I’ll be long gone by then.” He paused and tilted his head, as if considering. “You know, I really should kill you right now while you’re helpless. I have a sneaking suspicion that it would make my life much easier if I did. But then again, what would be the fun in that? Farewell, Lirra.”
“Hold, artificer!”
Lirra couldn’t move her head to turn toward Rhedyn, but he quickly stepped into her line of sight, cloaked in shadow and gripping his sword. Seeing him filled Lirra with hope. It seemed he had finally shaken off the effect of whatever had held him motionless, and he was ready to rejoin the fight.
Elidyr looked at the warrior for a long moment, his eyes dancing with amusement, and Lirra couldn’t help feeling her uncle was laughing inside at some private joke. Then he raised his left hand once more.
“You really need to pay more attention, Rhedyn. Didn’t you hear what I just told Lirra?”
Elidyr unleashed a fresh blast of chaos energy at Rhedyn, and the warrior’s dark aspect vanished, as if his shadow sibling had retreated deep within his body, and he collapsed to the floor.
Without another word, Elidyr turned and walked out of the chamber, moving with an unhurried gait and humming brightly to himself. Lirra, still suffering the aftereffects of the chaos energy Elidyr had attacked her with, was too weak to do anything more but glare at her uncle as he departed. She made a vow to herself at that moment-the instant she could stand again, she was going after him.
A weak thought drifted into her mind from the tentacle whip. That’s my girl …
Vaddon opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but he felt a gentle hand on his forehead urge him back down.
“After what you’ve been through, you need to rest,” Ksana said.
An old joke from his days commanding a regiment of undead came back to him, and he uttered it without thinking. “I’ll rest when I’m dead-and maybe not even then.” He pushed the cleric’s hand away and sat up, though he was unable to keep himself from groaning as he did so. You’re getting old, soldier, he thought, and not for the first time. “What happened? I don’t-”
A quick glance around the chamber brought his memory back in a sudden rush.
Lirra!
All weakness fled at the thought of his daughter, and the general rose to his feet, sword in hand, ready to fight. But another glance around the chamber revealed that the battle was already finished. Seven of his men and women lay dead-the volunteers for the experiment and those who’d been selected to guard them. Only Osten still lived. The young soldier was sitting up, fingers gently probing a ragged wound at the base of his throat. Sinnoch stood next to the Overmantle-which seemed to have been deactivated, thank the Host-but there was no sign of Elidyr. Rhedyn crouched on his hands and knees, struggling to stand but having a hard time of it. Vaddon had no idea what had happened to the lad, but it seemed something had knocked the starch out of him. And then he saw Lirra, and the sight of her nearly broke his heart. She stood not far from Rhedyn, and while she looked none too steady on her legs, she appeared to be uninjured. Vaddon was grateful for that, but the sight of the tentacle whip fused to her flesh filled him with almost unbearable sorrow. The general was in charge of the Outguard’s project, and Lirra was his second in command. They were supposed to oversee the experiments at the lodge, not actually take part in them, not like this. The thought of his daughter’s body being joined with an aberration-being one with it-made him feel physically ill, and he would go to the grave before he’d allow Lirra to be afflicted with an inhuman parasite a moment longer.
Vaddon picked up his sword from the floor, rose to his feet through a sheer effort of will and started toward his daughter. Ksana stood and without a word headed over to tend to Osten. Undoubtedly the cleric would’ve preferred Vaddon continue resting, but she understood why he had to do this, and so she said nothing.
Vaddon cautiously approached his daughte
r, mindful of the way the symbionts had taken over the bodies of their hosts during the experiment. Was Lirra in control of her body or was the tentacle whip?
“Lirra … can you hear me?” he asked.
She faced the chamber entrance, as if she were looking at something-or perhaps for something-but the doorway was empty. She didn’t respond right away, and Vaddon tightened his hand on his sword, fearing the worst. But then she slowly turned to look at him. Vaddon expected her features to be twisted by the evil of the symbiont attached to her, but he was surprised to see how normal she looked. Her skin was paler than usual, but Vaddon was well familiar with the expression of grim determination on his daughter’s face, and for the first time since seeing the tentacle whip attack Lirra, he allowed himself to hope that her iron will had allowed her to resist the aberration’s attempts to usurp control of her body.
“He got away, Father.”
There was an undercurrent of anger to Lirra’s words that Vaddon found disturbing.
“Who did?” But even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. There was only one person missing from the chamber.
“Elidyr.” Lirra practically spat her uncle’s name. “I was just about to go after him. He can’t have gotten far. If we hurry, we’ll be able to catch him.”
Without waiting for Vaddon to reply, she turned and started toward the chamber door. The tentacle whip was coiled around her left forearm, its barbed tip quivering in the air, as if the symbiont was excited by the prospect of the hunt to come.
“Wait!”
Vaddon hurried toward Lirra as fast as his armor would allow. Lirra stopped and turned back around to face him, but the instant Vaddon was within striking distance, the tentacle whip uncoiled from around Lirra’s forearm and lashed toward him. Vaddon quickly raised an armored forearm to block the aberration’s attack, but he needn’t have bothered. Lirra yanked her left arm backward violently, throwing off the tentacle whip’s aim, and the barbed tip missed Vaddon’s face by several feet.
