Fistanadantilus Reborn ll-2

by Douglas Niles

  "How do you know that?" wondered Dan, incredulous.

  "I merely marked the location when we were outside," the historian said modestly.

  "Such a mass of stone has to have a foundation on the ground. And this is it."

  Realizing that the historian was probably right, Danyal continued on, finding flagstones under his feet now instead of the carpet. Shortly he found still another door, this one also banded with iron, and when he put his face to the frame, he caught the scent of mold and dampness.

  His heart quickening, he turned to tell Foryth of his observation, but he saw no sign of the historian! Near panic, Dan padded back along their tracks.

  The door that was in the base of the manor tower was open a crack, though the lad knew it had been closed when they first passed it. He could only assume that Foryth Teel had entered here and was perhaps even now climbing toward the upper reaches of the stone spire.

  For the first time tonight, Dan felt a twinge of despair. He didn't dare waste time going after his wandering companion, nor could he risik calling out to him. With a soft groan, he hurried back to the door he had suspected led to a downward stairway. There was a heavy iron latch securing the door against being opened from the other side, and this served to confirm the lad's suspicions.

  As carefully as possible, he lifted the hasp, then pulled on the door. In the dim light, he saw a stairway descending into utter shadows. Anxiously he looked around, seeing several unlit candles in sconces similar to the mounts holding the burning tapers. He took one and touched it to the wick of a burning candle. Thus armed, he went back to the door.

  Just before he started down the damp, stone stairs, he heard a clatter from outside the walls. Men shouted, and Dan deduced that Emilo had begun his diversion. Hoping it was effective, he turned his attentions to the darkness before and below him.

  The air was chill with a penetrating miasma that seemed to seep right into his bones. Tiptoeing carefully, clutching the knife in one hand and the candle in the other, he crept down a long flight of stairs.

  At the bottom, a dingy corridor forked to the right and left, and he felt a return of his momentary panic as he wondered which way to go. Finally he guessed at random, starting along one branch, holding the candle up as he passed several small cells. The metal doors of these enclosures stood open, and with a quick pass of the candle, Danyal saw that each was unoccupied.

  When he reached a door that was closed, he lifted the candle toward the grate at the top of the barrier and tried to peer within.

  "Who's there?" demanded a stern feminine, familiar voice, and Dan's heart did handstands in his chest.

  "Mirabeth! It's me, Danyal!" he whispered, drawing a gasp of surprise and hope from within.

  "Can you get me out of here?" she asked, rushing to the door, coming into the light of his flickering candle. He was relieved to see that she appeared unharmed. One of her ears retained its wax pointed tip, and she had combed one of her twin topknots down to cover the other, undisguised ear.

  In another moment Danyal had pried open the catch, which was a very crude lock. Mirabeth gave him a big hug, and he wrapped his arms around her as best as he could while still retaining the grip on his knife and candle.

  "Come on!" he urged. "We've got to get you out of here!"

  "And just where do you think you'll go?" barked a sneering voice out of the darkness-a voice that Danyal clearly recognized.

  It belonged to Kelryn Darewind.

  CHAPTER 33

  The Eyes of the Skull

  Second Palast, Reapember

  374 AC

  Flayzeranyx stared at the skull, sensing the desire there. For long years, he had felt the glare of those dead eyes, heard the hushed voice whispering into his mind, insinuating ideas, suggestions, wishes. He knew that the skull tried to use him, that it wanted to employ the dragon to slake its hideous hunger.

  But the red dragon's belly rumbled with a hunger of his own.

  The eyes in the fleshless skull gaped, unblinking, as they had stared for so many decades. They looked upon the fiery inferno that was the lair of Flayzeranyx, and they watched, and they waited.

  For a long time, there was only the smoke, the bubbling of lava and the hissing of steam. Clouds of soot billowed, churning in angry clouds, and tongues of flame licked into the air. Nothing seemed alive here, until finally crimson scales coiled in the darkness and leathery wings expanded to fan the air, sending gusts of wind swirling through the cavern.

  Bursts of yellow fire exploded upward, as if exulting in their master's arousal when the mighty serpent raised his head and neck far above the smooth, hardened lava of his perch.

  The dragon studied the skull and sensed the need. He saw a pale green image and detected the sparks of crimson fire that burned there. The hunger, the lust, in the skull was an almost palpable force.

  "And where is the talisman?" asked the wyrm in a silken voice. He probed, staring with his great yellow eyes, penetrating the depths within the skull.

  Abruptly the serpent saw the image change, and he sensed the truth as he beheld the human lair in the mountains. "Your heart of blood and stone is there!"

  The skull remained as ever, but did Flayze now detect a mocking leer in the eternally grinning teeth?

  "I know the place," he whispered. "The mountaintop stronghold… I have seen it, tolerated it, for these many years."

  The skull was silent, still. But the shadowy stare of those dead eyes seemed to penetrate the dragon's very being.

  Instinctively Flayze hated that place, hated the powerful allure that drew the attentions of his artifact. The skull wanted the stone with a desperate, powerful longing. The red dragon, on the other hand, had many treasures. He could afford to scorn the chance to add another bauble to his collection.

  Wings spreading, the dragon turned toward the world, ready to fly.

  Behind him, the skull watched, silent and motionless as ever, its white teeth locked in an eternal grimace.

  CHAPTER 34

  Thee Master of Loreloch

  Second Majetog, Reapember

  374 AC

  "I was wondering how long it would take you to come for her. I'm impressed, of course, that you seem to have dispatched Zack so handily, but I was a trifle disappointed when you hadn't broken into Loreloch by last night. I thought you were taking an awfully cavalier approach to this pretty kendermaid's rescue."

  For a moment, confronted by that familiar, dangerous voice, Danyal froze. He pictured Kelryn Darewind lurking in the darkness, like a cat who had found two mice out of their hole. The candle in Danyal's hand flared weakly, and he saw Mirabeth's eyes, so hopeful an instant before, cloud with a mixture of fear and despair.

  Dan, too, felt a growing measure of hopelessness. At the same time, he wondered how the man had known to wait here for him. Remembering the noise that had crashed outside the manor walls, the lad wondered if the bandit lord had been alerted by Emilo's premature diversion. In any event, he was here in the darkness, watching and laughing at them.

  But then Dan's instincts took over; he tugged Mira-beth out of the cell and started down the musty corridor, away from the direction of that soft, menacing voice.

  "Halt!"

  Kelryn barked the word, and just like that Danyal's feet ceased to move. He tried to urge Mirabeth along but found that she, too, might as well have been glued to the floor. The two of them squirmed and strained but couldn't pull their boots free. This was magic, Danyal realized with sinking spirits, knowing that some sort of spell had acted to cloak them in this cast of immobility.

  "You had no chance of really making a successful rescue, you know-no chance at all," declared the bandit lord, sauntering from the darkened recesses of the dungeon. Suddenly the two young people could see him, but not because of the candle that still flared brightly in Danyal's trembling hand.

  No, the lad realized. Rather, it seemed that there was some kind of eerie light emanating from Kelryn Dare-wind himself. The man was outlined
in a pale green glow, an illumination not unlike the natural phosphorescence Danyal had observed on some of the lichens that grew in shady places near Waterton.

  Except that this glow was clearly, uncannily powerful, in a way that no natural glow could ever be. In fact, it seemed as though the greenish luminescence actually smelled of some sort of arcane power, some inner might that allowed it to freeze them so helplessly in their tracks. When the bandit lord came closer, he smiled, white teeth gleaming in the strange light.

  "I knew tonight would be the night that you came for her. I knew it even before your friend made such an untidy racket outside the walls."

  Now Dan could see that the pale light glowed from between the man's fingers, sickly beams of eerie illumination expanding from Kelryn Darewind's hand to spread through the dungeon. He held an object there, something small enough to be held within his closed fingers, but it was a thing that pulsed with frightening arcane power. Too, it was something terribly, unnaturally bright but not fiery, for clearly it was cool enough to be held.

  "The bloodstone of Fistandantilus." The bandit lord held up a golden chain, allowing the pale stone pendant to dangle and sway before them. "It's too bad your friend, the historian, isn't here. I know he'd get quite a thrill out of seeing this."

  Danyal stared at the bloodstone, unable to move. He felt the power of the gem in that terrible light, sensed that his eyes-and his brain-were being damaged even as he was compelled to maintain his unblinking attention. There was no doubt in his mind that it was this stone that glued him in place, that compelled his obedience to a command he would have given anything to disobey.

  "It was the bloodstone that allowed me to trick him, to make him think that I was a real priest!" The bandit lord chuckled over his own cleverness.

  Danyal tried to speak, worked to choke out a word or two of challenge, but he was unable to make his mouth and lips obey his will.

  "Oh, very well. You may relax, but don't try to flee." Kelryn masked the stone again as he spoke, and the sudden darkness was a huge relief, like a wash of fresh air blowing away the scent of an open crypt.

  Suddenly their feet weren't fastened to the floor anymore, and Mirabeth and Dan staggered in shock as the spell faded. They clung to each other for balance and reassurance. The youth desperately wanted to run, but now that he knew the power of the stone, he dared not take the chance-at least, not yet.

  "The gem is the key to my success. It not only insures the obedience of reluctant listeners such as yourself, but it also protects me from those who would do me harm. There was a time when its power brought people flocking to my temple. Now I have learned-and only in the last few decades-that this gem of Fistandantilus even gives me the power to heal. Oh, it's not perfect, of course, not like a spell cast by a true cleric. But you saw it work."

  Kelryn Darewind drew a deep breath, shaking his head in apparent wonder. "This bloodstone has a soul of its own, and it helps me! Over the years it has consumed countless lives and amassed a mighty power. It has taught me many things, shared wonders of history that others would never believe!"

  Dan wanted to ask if the stone had corrupted him, made him evil and cruel as well.

  "Hah!" Kelryn's bark was loud and abrupt. "Even that fool of a historian doesn't know the scope of his own ignorance. I know, because there is a voice, a spirit of knowledge, that talks to me through the stone."

  The man came closer, looking down at his two captives, and Dan sensed that once again Kelryn really wanted to talk, wanted to make them understand. And the lad hated that smooth face, that calm expression, more than ever. He wanted to punch the man, to draw his knife and plunge it into Kelryn Darewind's evil heart.

  "And it was the bloodstone, after all, that provided me with the knowledge that you were coming here tonight. It was really quite a simple matter to understand your objective."

  Kelryn frowned suddenly, allowing the green light to ooze once more from between his fingers as he scrutinized Mirabeth. "Though I would have thought that the kender himself would have come after his woman."

  Abruptly he squinted, as if seeing Mirabeth for the first time. He reached out, pushing her hair back from the rounded human ear. Roughly he slapped at the pointed tip of her other ear, drawing an immediate shout of protest from Danyal but at the same time knocking away the wax ear.

  Then he threw back his head and laughed.

  "You're her! Sir Harold's daughter, the one who escaped!" he exclaimed, full of mirth. "I've had you locked in my dungeon for the past days, and I didn't even know it. Oh, what a splendid joke! What wonderful irony!"

  He snarled then, his face distorted by a momentary naked cruelty. "Your father was a menace to me, a danger who lasted for too many years. It is good to know that you will soon join him in death."

  Danyal felt an onrushing wave of hprrible fury, combined with an agonizing awareness of his own helplessness. They were both as good as dead, he knew, and he felt utterly powerless to change their impending fate. His fingers itched toward the weapon at his waist as he considered the chances. Could he draw the knife and sink the blade into his enemy before Kelryn could work the magic of the bloodstone?

  He knew that he couldn't.

  "Raise your hands, both of you," declared the man curtly, as if reading Danyal's thoughts. Though he struggled valiantly to resist, Dan's arms moved against his will, extending themselves over his head until he stood with hands helplessly upraised. His weapon might as well have been at the bottom of the sea for all the chance he had of reaching it.

  "I think we'll do this in a fashion my men will enjoy," the bandit lord declared in a tone of amusement. "Let's see… perhaps I should have the two of you leap from the upper battlement onto the rocks. They're at least a hundred feet below. Yes, that would be effective. And dramatic as well, I'm sure you'll agree."

  Kelryn frowned, apparently confronted by a deeply distressing problem. "But should I have you jump together or one at a time? I just don't know." Kelryn Darewind sounded genuinely distressed over his difficult choice.

  Dan's heart was pounding, and he felt the sweat trickling down his brow, but he still could make no gesture nor sound of protest.

  "Well, to get us started, we can climb out of the dungeon. You, girl, go first. The lad will follow, with me in the rear. Now proceed, but slowly."

  Like zombies, Mirabeth and Danyal shuffled through the dark corridor of the dungeon. Once the lad tried to stop, to resist the commands of the bandit lord, but the feet that had been so unwilling to move a few minutes ago now refused to stop their inexorable march toward whatever doom Kelryn Darewind chose to devise for them. The pale, glowing bloodstone was like a physical prod behind him as Dan strained to turn, tried to resist with all his will the commands that marched them toward imminent execution.

  "It shall have to be one at a time," mused the bandit captain, startling them with his casual return to the topic of murder. "The look on the survivor's face is not a treasure that I would care to waste. But which of you first? I really would like you to make a suggestion."

  Once again Kelryn's fingers tightened around the bloodstone, and as green light seeped through the dungeon, Dan saw that the gem was pulsing with renewed power.

  Danyal's mouth opened and his tongue jerked reflex-ively, but he gagged on words that seemed drawn to the power of the bloodstone, that rose like bile in his throat. Spitting and coughing, he shook his head, drawing a sigh of disappointment from the false priest of Fistan-dantilus.

  "Now, climb!" barked Kelryn Darewind as they reached the foot of the stairway. Mirabeth still led the way, and Danyal allowed her to advance several steps before he started after her. Once more he thought of trying to resist, though he still couldn't manipulate his arms. Could he throw himself backward, try to carry the bandit lord down the steep steps? Perhaps he could badly injure, even kill the man!

  Buoyed by the sudden hope, Dan worked his head around, getting a glimpse of his captor. He was dismayed to see that Kelryn Darewind had dra
wn his sword as he followed them onto the stairs. Any maneuver such as the lad had contemplated would only result in a gory wound for himself.

  Slumping in despair, Danyal turned his attention to the climb. Each step seemed to emerge from a haze before his face, and he found his feet rising without conscious direction as he gradually ascended.

  They came to the door at the top of the stairs, and Mirabeth pushed it open, shuffling into the great hallway beyond. Danyal followed, and Kelryn came last. He still held his blade, but he seemed to be most concerned with the green gem that still glowed between his fingers.

  "Go that way," he declared, pointing toward the curve that Dan remembered led toward the entry hall with the tall, tapestry-lined walls. The corridor had been illuminated by only a pair of candles before, but now a dozen or more torches burned in sconces spaced along each of the walls. The youth didn't see any of the other bandits, but he heard shouts from outside; he could only hope that Emilo, at least, had gotten to a place of safety. With a grimace of heartache, he wondered again what had become of Foryth.

  "These depict great moments in the history of my temple," the would-be priest declared, gesturing toward the long strands of fabric. The artistry might once have been splendid, but the bright colors had faded, and the fringes of the tapestry were tattered and moth-eaten.

  His hands still stretched over his head, Danyal couldry t have been less interested in the soot-blackened banners. Yet as he flexed his numbing fingers, trying to think of something, anything, useful to do, he suddenly had the flash of an idea.

  "That picture," said the lad, pointing toward the nearest tapestry. He stepped right up to it, vaguely discerning a crowd scene and a depiction of a large square edifice. "What is it?"

  "The tapestry displays the laying of our temple in Haven's outer wall." Kelryn spoke with animation and interest. "You see? There I stand to oversee the work."