Storm of the Dead зкp-2

by Lisa Smedman

  Q'arlynd fell to his knees beside her and gripped her sleeve with his teeth. He lifted her arm, positioning her hand over her chest, above her holy symbol. He released his grip, and her hand fell on the miniature sword.

  "Leliana, you need to heal yourself. If you don't, we're in big trouble."

  Leliana nodded weakly. Her lips began to move. Her prayer came in whispered snatches, but a melody was there. Slowly, her voice strengthened. The song's final note burst from her lips with a joyous peal, and her head wound vanished. She sat up, looked around at the svirfneblin, and immediately grasped her sword. She climbed to her feet, murder in her eye.

  "Wait!" Q'arlynd said. "We need them. They're our way into the Acropolis. Heal me, and I'll deal with them."

  Leliana gave him a suspicious look but eventually nodded. Touching her holy symbol a second time, she sang out a prayer. Q'arlynd sighed in relief as a tingling rushed through his arms. A moment more, and they were functional again. He flexed his fingers and grinned.

  "Remember that trick I pulled on the lamia, back when we first met?" he asked.

  Leliana nodded.

  Q'arlynd grabbed one of the deep gnomes and dragged him over to where Durth lay. "Haul that other one over here. Once I've trapped them, you can use that truth-compelling prayer of yours. These three were on their way to the Acropolis to deliver the contents of that strongbox to the Crones. They're about to tell us everything we need to know in order to do the same."

  Leliana raised her eyebrows. "You missed your calling," she said as she grabbed the other unconscious deep gnome and dragged him across the floor. "You should have been a Nightshadow."

  "Perhaps I should have," Q'arlynd whispered to himself. Then he cast his spell.

  CHAPTER 10

  Cavatina levitated up the mineshaft, fully on alert. The description the Protectors had given of the "demon" matched Halisstra, but Cavatina was still cautious. As she rose, she pulled the stopper from her iron flask. If this turned out to be a demon after all, she'd trap it.

  She landed softly at the lip of the shaft and looked around. The cavern was wide and filled with ancient debris. Tunnels led off from it in three directions. The glow of the Faerzress contrasted with the dark shadows of fallen timbers, winches, tangles of wire, and other abandoned equipment. Halisstra might have been hiding anywhere.

  So might any number of undead.

  "Halisstra?" Cavatina called softly. The sword in her hand hummed softly, a precaution against enchantments.

  She heard a scuffling in the tunnel to her left. "Halisstra?" she called again, slightly louder. She walked in the direction of the noise.

  Something scurried up a support beam beside her. Cavatina turned. A rat stared down at her from a sagging roof timber, eyes gleaming. It regarded her a moment, then scuttled away.

  Cavatina stood in silence, wondering if Zindira might have been seeing things-shadows turned into demons by an overactive imagination. Zindira was a Protector, and well trained, yet the encounter with the undead head might have left her jumpy.

  Something touched Cavatina's shoulder. She whirled and brought her sword into play. At the last moment, she halted her thrust.

  Halisstra stared down at the sword point that touched her midriff, just below the lowest of the eight spider legs protruding from her chest. Her bestial face twisted in a pout. "Is this how you greet a friend?"

  Cavatina took a step back, sword still at the ready. If the creature was a demon, somehow impersonating Halisstra, it was doing a fine job of it. "Is that really you, Halisstra?"

  "You want proof?" The fangs protruding from her cheeks twitched. She pointed at Cavatina's breastplate. "Those dents: they're from Selvetarm's teeth. You were in his jaws-helpless-when I passed you the Crescent Blade." She cocked her head. "That's something I'll bet the ballads don't tell."

  Cavatina nodded. Indeed it wasn't. She lowered her sword. "Halisstra."

  Halisstra bent in a self-deprecating bow. "In the flesh."

  "What happened to you after Selvetarm died? I went back to the Demonweb Pits to search for you but couldn't find you. Where have you been?"

  Halisstra's shoulders slumped. She was still twice Cavatina's height. "Lolth captured me. She imprisoned me in her fortress."

  "You escaped?"

  Halisstra shook her head. Her matted hair was stuck to her shoulders and didn't move. "Lolth bored of me. She threw me out. She said I'd served my purpose."

  "Which was…?" Cavatina prompted.

  Halisstra's eyes gleamed maliciously. "To help you slay Selvetarm."

  Cavatina's lips parted in surprise. "Lolth wanted him dead?"

  "Of course," Halisstra hung her head. "He'd outlived his usefulness, too."

  Cavatina tightened her grip on her sword. It was unlike Lolth to simply cast a tool aside. The Spider Queen delighted in destruction and would shred a soul after only the slightest of provocations. Halisstra was probably wrong in saying that Lolth had no further use for her. Was she back under the Spider Queen's thrall? Had she ever not been?

  "Did Lolth order you to help me kill Selvetarm?"

  "No. I did that of my own accord. Because…" Halisstra's head lifted. "Because you offered me redemption." She raised a hand and held it out imploringly. "I'm ready to accept it. To atone for all I've done."

  Cavatina stared at the proffered hand. The claws that tipped Halisstra's fingers were filthy, jagged as broken glass. The hand itself was misshapen, bestial, its palm scarred.

  The gesture seemed sincere, but Cavatina was no fool. Decades of hunting demons had taught her caution. Had the Faerzress not prevented her from singing a divination, she might have found out if Halisstra was telling the truth-to find out if it was Halisstra, and not just some demon who had been told, by Lolth, the details of her champion's death. As it was, Cavatina would have to resort to other methods.

  "Quarthz'ress," she whispered.

  Silver light flashed out of the flask, striking Halisstra in the chest. Instead of recoiling, she glanced down dispassionately as the rays ricocheted off her glossy black skin. Slowly, the glow of the flask faded until only the bluish flicker of Faerzress remained.

  "You think I'm a demon," Halisstra said. She gave an odd, strangled laugh and spread her arms wide. "Go on. Kill me, then."

  "If you really are Halisstra, I can't."

  "Exactly." Halisstra's hand whipped out and caught the sword, midway down the blade. She yanked-hard-driving it into her own chest.

  Cavatina, horrified, yanked it out again. The sword keened as she danced away from the wounded Halisstra. She watched, horrified, as Halisstra doubled over, grunting against the pain. Halisstra braced one hand against the floor and shuddered, breathing in short, shallow gasps. Her other hand clutched her wound. Slowly her flesh closed. At last she rose.

  "You see?" she said. "It's me. Lolth still won't let me die." Anguished eyes bored into Cavatina's. "Please. Help me." The hand lifted imploringly again. "Rip Lolth's webs from my soul. Redeem me."

  "Halisstra," Cavatina said. "It really is you."

  She lowered her sword and reached out with her free hand.

  Halisstra took it.

  A low chuckle escaped from Halisstra's throat like a burble of blood. Then she threw back her head and howled, "Wendonai!"

  Suddenly, Cavatina and Halisstra were somewhere… else.

  Halisstra released Cavatina's hand and leaped backward, laughing. Cavatina whirled. All around her was a flat, featureless plain whose sun-bleached ground glittered as if it had been seeded with salt. A hot wind howled past her, and grit stung her skin. A few paces away stood a pile of flaming skulls. A figure reclined lazily on them, basking in their heat: a demon with horns, folded bat wings and brick-red skin. A balor. He smiled at her, lazily scratching his groin.

  Cavatina ripped the iron flask from her belt and held it in front of her. "Quarthz'ress!"

  The demon disappeared even before silver streaked from the flask. A heartbeat later, the metal grew too hot
to hold. It seared Cavatina's palm, forcing her to drop the red-hot flask. She backed slowly away, searching for the vanished demon. The runes of silver embossed on the sides of the flask turned molten, blackened, rearranged themselves in a new pattern, then the flask exploded.

  Cavatina ducked as a near-molten shard of it whizzed past her face.

  The balor, fully twice her height, appeared next to Cavatina and leered down at her. "Such trinkets will not hold me," he whispered in a breath that stank of sulfur.

  Cavatina danced back, menacing the demon with her weapon. The sword's song was high and shrill, a reflection of the tension she felt. Had Demonbane not been destroyed, Cavatina might have been holding a sword that would make even the balor flinch. Instead she had to rely on bravado alone. "You don't scare me, demon."

  As she spoke, she touched the silver dagger that hung against her chest and sang a question. Knowledge hummed into her mind. Poison would not harm a balor, nor would fire or cold, lightning or acid. Nor would any of the tricks she might have used against a lesser demon.

  Wendonai had no known vulnerabilities.

  She let the spell dissipate.

  The balor reached over his back to draw his own weapon. The flame-shaped blade of the long sword glowed white. Even from several paces away, Cavatina could feel its heat. A second weapon-a flaming whip-was coiled around the demon's waist like a belt. The hair under him was scorched black.

  Cavatina risked a glance to the side. Halisstra crouched just behind the balor, her posture completely submissive. She stared up at the demon, a sly smile on her face. He reached down with his free hand and stroked her head. Idly, as one would stroke a cat. Halisstra both flinched and leaned into the caress at the same time.

  Cavatina's lips curled in disgust. "Halisstra. You betrayed me."

  Halisstra's glance slid to Cavatina. "Of course." Her lips twisted in a rueful smile. "I am the Lady Penitent. Lolth's battle-captive. What else did you expect?"

  "Something more," Cavatina said. "As did Eilistraee. She reached out to you, through me. You spurned her."

  "You lie!" Halisstra shouted. She reared to her feet. Standing, she was nearly as tall as the balor. "Eilistraee abandoned me."

  "Silence, both of you!" the demon roared.

  Halisstra fell back into her crouch. "Yes, Master." One of her hands pawed at his knee. She pointed at Cavatina. "There. You have what you wanted. Return me to-"

  "You dare make demands of me?" The balor's eyes blazed.

  Halisstra cringed. "No, Master, I-"

  The balor flicked a finger. With a hollow crunch, Halisstra's chest caved in. The skin of chest and back met, and like a doll from which the stuffing had been yanked, her body folded in two. Halisstra toppled to the ground, blood trickling from mouth and nostrils.

  When the demon glanced down at his handiwork, Cavatina lunged. Her sword sang with glee as it slashed the balor's stomach, slicing deep into his flesh.

  The demon staggered back, his stomach dribbling gobs of smoking black blood. His whip, sliced in two by Cavatina's sword, fell to the ground behind him, its flames flickering.

  "Mortal!" he roared. "Your insolence will cost you dearly." One hand shot up, clawing at the sky.

  "Eilistraee!" Cavatina cried. She grasped her holy symbol as the demon's hand swept down, a roaring gout of fire streaming in its wake. "Protect me!"

  Fire blazed all around her in a storm of light, heat, and noise. Her clothing and boots burst into flame and were instantly reduced to ash. The straps that held her breastplate charred and parted, and the two halves of metal fell away. The heat was intense, and each indrawn breath filled her lungs with pain. The singing sword grew so hot she was forced to let it fall. It tumbled to the ground with a mournful wail. Blisters erupted on her skin, and the bitter tang of singed hair filled her nostrils. White flame blinded her and smoke boiled in the sky above her head. Yet she did not burn. By Eilistraee's mercy, she did not burn.

  The firestorm ended as suddenly as it had begun, leaving her blinking. The singing sword lay silent at her feet, its blade dark with soot.

  Cavatina yanked her holy symbol from around her neck. Its silver still gleamed, unblemished by the balor's foul magic. Wendonai might have no natural vulnerabilities, but Halisstra had inadvertently handed Cavatina a weapon she might use.

  "Eilistraee!" she cried. "My enemy stands before me: the demon Wendonai. Smite him!"

  A note pealed from the holy symbol, pure as thrice-blessed water. The balor, unable to fend off an attack that utilized his name, staggered backward. He threw down his sword and howled in agony, hands clasping his ears.

  Cavatina bore down on him, holding the miniature sword before her. A shaft of moonlight split the flat, empty sky, its light eclipsing that of the pale yellow sun. The balor staggered back, his cloven feet punching holes in the ground that welled up with blood.

  "Mortal," he panted, black smoke puffing from his nostrils. "You vex me."

  He droned a word, low and terrible. It rasped against the pure note of the holy symbol, which trembled in Cavatina's hand, then was parried. The note droned into Cavatina's very core, rattling her bones. Suddenly weak, her body hot and feverish, she trembled. The holy symbol vibrated out of her hand and fell at her feet. The shaft of moonlight disappeared.

  All was still for a moment. Then the howling wind returned. On it came Wendonai's triumphant cry. "You think you can best me, mortal," he chortled. "Think again!"

  He barked out a word that hit Cavatina like the blast from a furnace, instantly stunning her. Dizzy, she toppled. She landed on her back next to Halisstra's body. Already, the corpse was mending itself, the concavity that was her chest slowly filling, her eyelids fluttering. Halisstra would live. Such was Lolth's infinite torment.

  Wendonai loomed over Cavatina, a length of his severed whip in either hand. Bending down, he used them to bind her ankles and wrists. He licked her cheek, leaving a smear of tar on her skin. Hot, sulfuric breath panted in her face.

  "Now our fun begins."

  *****

  Karas plunged his dagger into the weeping svirfneblin's chest, held it there a moment while the gnome died, then yanked it free. He turned, wiping the blood from his blade. "There," he told the others. "I've given him the 'mercy' you pleaded for. No more arguments."

  The others stared at him with a range of expressions. The priestesses had shown open disgust as he'd questioned the third svirfneblin. They were angry that he'd ignored their protests that the other two had told them all they needed to know. One of the Nightshadows looked as though he shared their sentiments, but the other three males nodded in agreement with what Karas had just done, as did the mages.

  Karas stepped over the mutilated body of the dead svirfneblin. All three lay on the floor of the tunnel at odd angles, their feet still encased in the re-hardened stone. He nodded at Q'arlynd, and the wizard repeated his spell. The stone softened beneath them, and with a push of his foot, Karas forced them down into the mud, one by one.

  As the wizard made the floor solid again, Karas turned to the others. "Before Cavatina ran off to chase demons, she named me leader of this expedition," he reminded them. "I'm in charge-you all just heard Qilue confirm this. The Masked Lady herself condones what I just did. There were no signs of her displeasure when I was questioning the svirfneblin. Eilistraee, at least, acknowledges what must be done if our mission is to succeed."

  No one seemed ready to argue with that.

  "The plan has changed," he told them. He gestured down at the strongbox. "We've learned what's augmenting the Faerzress: voidstone. Now we need to find out exactly how the Crones are doing this, so we can put a stop to it. That requires a lighter touch-something a little more subtle than simply charging in and fighting our way to the Acropolis."

  The Nightshadows nodded. So did the mages.

  "Three of us will disguise ourselves as deep gnomes and infiltrate the Acropolis. We'll learn what we can, and pass the information along to Qilue. The rest of you-
"

  "Who's going to pose as the three svirfneblin?" Leliana interrupted.

  Karas turned to her. With Cavatina gone, Leliana had assumed command of the other Protectors. She wasn't like the Darksong Knight; she was less prone to erupt when prodded. She had the air of someone who'd been raised in the Underdark, who knew how to keep herself alive by swimming with the ever-shifting tide.

  "I will," Karas answered. "I was in Maerimydra when the Crones overran it. I know how they're likely to react."

  Leliana nodded. She glanced at her Protectors, obviously trying to decide which of them had the best chance of surviving.

  Karas spoke before she had a chance to announce her choice. "Gindrol and Talzir will come with me. They have the ability to alter their forms, as well." He didn't add the real reason he'd just named those two: that they were the only ones he could come close to trusting. Like him, they'd embraced Eilistraee's faith out of expediency. They kept their old skills well honed.

  Leliana held his eyes a moment but made no protest. "All right," she agreed. Unlike Cavatina, she recognized the merits of using the best tools for the job. "The rest of us will circle around to the other side of the Acropolis and move in if you run into trouble."

  "Not as one group," Karas amended. "The Nightshadows' stealth will be wasted in any attack in force. They should go a different way."

  "Agreed." Leliana turned to the wizards. "You six have a choice. Come with us or tag along with the Nightshadows."

  Gilkriz nodded at his underling. "Jyzrill will accompany one of the Nightshadows."

  The shorter male's scowl deepened, but he nodded.

  "Khorl will go with the other Nightshadow," Eldrinn said quickly. "And Daffir will join the Protectors. As for Q'arlynd and I-"

  "We'll join the Protectors," Q'arlynd interrupted. "My spells are better suited to battle than to stealth. As are Eldrinn's."

  A flicker of irritation crossed the younger male's face.

  Karas nodded. "Let's go, then. The water clock's trickling, no time to waste."