The old man, his face haggard with fatigue, nodded with understanding. "She's weakening," he said. "She's losing control." Even as he spoke, Ancilla took the form of a lizard, then a snake, then a woman, and a lizard again. "She cannot control the god apparition and her own at the same time."
Burn Erolydon, the fake Sauvay commanded. Destroy it now. Or I will destroy it, and you with it!
The other mages continued chanting at Ancilla's feet. Hederick's minions were gone by now, either dead or fleeing. Chanting grew louder in the courtyard, and the building shook with a series of crashes. One of the pillars worked loose and toppled between the Presence and Hed-erick.
Hederick whirled and vanished into Erolydon. Within moments, a new explosion tore through the temple. Flames rose from the back of the building, from the area of the Great Chamber.
"He's setting off the special powders!" Tarscenian shouted. "The ones the priests use to impress their followers."
"Will that be enough to destroy the building?" Mynx asked.
"More than enough."
"Tarscenian, my love."
"Ancilla?"
"I am weakening. The building will explode soon. You must get Hederick out of there."
"Let him die, Ancilla!" Mynx cried. "He has killed hundreds of people."
"Perhaps thousands," Tarscenian said quietly. But his eyes were resigned.
"I will hold the building safe as long as I can, Tarscenian. Get him. Hederick may yet recant. I would not have my brother die a heretic to the Old Gods. I made my vow."
The image of Ancilla began flickering so fast now that it was visible only as a column of glittering light. Tarscenian raced into Erolydon, Mynx close behind him.
They darted around fallen columns and arches, and were halfway down what remained of the corridor when Mynx screamed and pointed upward. "Tarscenian, look out!" A blazing tapestry detached slowly from the wall. The flaming curtain fell directly toward the two, who threw themselves into a doorway. Soon the corridor was filled with flame.
Ancilla was calling to Hederick from the courtyard, encouraging him to come out of Erolydon now that he'd set in place the powder that would destroy it.
"Never!" came the High Theocrat's voice from the smoke before them. "You are evil!"
"I am the only good you ever knew."
The sound of laughter from Hederick.
"You will die at the hands of evil forces if you do not embrace the true gods now, Hederick."
"I am the embodiment of good. I will die here, in my holy temple," Hederick rejoined. He sounded almost giddy at the prospect. "Sauvay will gather me to him."
Tarscenian threw himself into the hallway and dashed through the blaze. Mynx followed.
The vallenwood Great Chamber was filled with smoke, but the dense wood had not yet burst into flame. The statues of Omalthea and the rest of the pantheons were smoldering in the heat. Mynx and Tarscenian could see the open crates of red and yellow powder that the High Theo-crat had piled around each statue.
Hederick stood at the top of the pulpit. His hands were up, his lips moving, but no sounds came out. Then, the silent benediction over, the High Theocrat bowed to the empty benches. He beamed and smiled and nodded like a potentate accepting accolades from adoring subjects.
Then Hederick began to descend the flights of steps, slowly and regally, still nodding to each side as though he
were leaving to the roar of a standing ovation.
"Tarscenian! I cannot hold the building much longer."
Goaded by Ancilla's call, Tarscenian and Mynx raced up the steps. Between them, they wrestled the portly High Theocrat onto Tarscenian's shoulders, then fled down the steps and out the lakeside door.
The moment they stepped into the sunshine, Erolydon erupted into a volcano of block, flame, and ash. Mynx and Tarscenian went flying into the trampled grass of the western courtyard. They came to rest against a section of standing wall and burrowed against it.
When the explosion died away, the two lifted their heads. There was no sign of Hederick.
They made their way around what was left of the steaming building. Every now and then, more fires would explode. Soon Mynx and Tarscenian didn't even flinch at the continuing eruptions.
"What are you looking for?" Mynx asked Tarscenian after the old man climbed carefully from one jagged block of marble to another.
The tall man surveyed the littered courtyard. The bodies of Hederick's forces as well as those of a few mages lay sprawled between him and the column that marked where the front gate used to be.
Tarscenian gestured. "There. There she is."
Mynx saw a huddled figure in a white robe. Scars of flame marred the cobblestones on every side but did not touch the body, the robe, or the cascades of curly gray hair.
As they watched, something shiny crept onto the figure's shoulder. The flash of a diamond brightened the battle scene.
With a metallic cry, the tiny jeweled dragon launched into the air. Tarscenian bowed his head. "It would never have left her if she were alive," he said softly. "Not willingly." His gray eyes were haunted.
The Diamond Dragon darted like a silver hummingbird over the desolation. Now and then it dived toward the ground, touched the cobblestones with its clawed feet, and arced back upward again. It performed the act at least twenty times. Then the magical creature moved outside the site of the former temple building and repeated the ritual.
In each spot, a tendril of green appeared. As Tarscenian and Mynx gazed on, each tendril became a thick stem, then a sapling. The saplings stretched toward the sky, thickened, and Mynx recognized the bark of vallenwoods.
The Diamond Dragon circled overhead, alternately swooping down to observe its handiwork, then soaring back up above the rapidly spreading tree limbs. It plummeted once more to Ancilla's body and settled itself into the angle of her neck, nuzzling the tangle of hair.
The metallic creature gave one last cry, and both woman and dragon vanished.
Chapter 28
"Erolydon is destroyed, the priests and novitiates scattered. Even if Hederick has survived, the Highseekers Council in Haven would be fools to give him such power again." Tarscenian paused and considered before continuing. "At least I hope so. That's one of the things I hope to persuade the Highseekers."
Mynx and Tarscenian were making their way along the road to Haven.
"You think Hederick might still be alive, then?"
"Ancilla swore never to hurt him. Her word meant everything to her. Yes, I believe Hederick survived."
Mynx turned that over in her mind. "Do you think they will give you a fair listening in Haven?"
"From what I hear, Elistan will turn me an unbiased ear, but the rest of the Highseekers… I don't know." Tarscen-
ian shook his head. "I am, after all, a fallen Seeker priest. That will weigh heavily with them, I'm afraid. How heavily, we can only wait and see. Over the years, Ancilla and I grew accustomed to defeat when reason predicted success."
Mynx turned her attention elsewhere. She stroked the armor that Tarscenian had bartered for her before they'd left Solace. It was missing a few pieces, but the pieces that were there matched each other-and fit her perfectly.
"Tarscenian," Mynx said suddenly as she and the swordsman rode on through the late afternoon sunshine. "Hederick and Ancilla were brother and sister. Why were they so different? How could anyone be so evil as Hederick?"
Tarscenian raised one eyebrow. "He believes he is good. What he has never understood is that some of the greatest harm in the world has been done by people convinced that they, too, were doing good."
"Nonetheless…"
"Nonetheless, Mynx, you are right. Hederick has caused great suffering, as you have said." Tarscenian frowned and gazed at the pommel of his saddle while he sorted out his thoughts.
"At some point in people's lives," the old man finally said slowly, "if they live well, they have to take stock of what is true and what is illusion. They must do this honestly. Once they
have gazed at what is darkest within their beings, they must move resolutely on-casting off the shadow of illusion and living as best they can in the light of what they have learned to be true. This takes great courage. I'm afraid Hederick was never brave or honest enough to do that, Mynx."
"And you have done this?"
"I did it in a tiny village called Garlund, on the prairie just west of the Garnet Mountains. And I have done it daily since then."
I'm not sure I understand this, Tarscenian." "It's a long ride to Haven, Mynx. We'll have plenty of time to talk."
Tarscenian and Mynx certainly were making fast time, Kifflewit Burrthistle thought as he bounded along the Solace-Haven road. "Won't the two of them be surprised to see me, though!" he said to himself, chuckling.
His pockets were full again. The people rushing pell-mell from the exploding temple had paid little attention to a kender running alongside them.
They'd paid even less attention to their pocketbooks and pouches.
He'd lost most of his own pouches and their contents when the materbill roared fire. It was lucky that he'd found-so soon! — so many wonderful things to replace them with. "Even a few new pouches," he murmured.
A few nights later, red and silver moonlight glinted off the helms of twenty goblins and one hobgoblin as they watched a portly man approach. He carried himself like a king, double chin up haughtily, bulging eyes cold over bulbous nose, and a permanent sneer on his mouth.
"Still thinkhe we servants," one goblin muttered. "Seekerfool."
"Shutup, morefool," the chain-mailed hobgoblin leader snapped.
Hederick's foot caught against one of the chunks of blackened marble that littered the area, and he stumbled. Only a short time after the fire, and already the forest was reclaiming the scarred land. At this rate, within months there would be no sign of what had once been the greatest wonder of the Seekers, Hederick thought bitterly.
"Magic," he said suddenly. "Even in death, the witch ensorcels me, steals back my Erolydon. But she could not kill me. Ha, not she! Sauvay saved me."
Hederick stumbled again.
"Drunksick," the talkative goblin murmured. "All-thetime now, drunksick he. If we atehim, weget drunk-sick, too, certain. He not last long under Highlord, certain." A companion guffawed, the hobgoblin hissed another warning, and both goblin soldiers fell silent. They waited in the ruins and marked the High Theocrat's irregular progress.
Finally Hederick stood before them. He spoke first, slurring his words but eliminating none of the contemptuous tone. "I see you have found reinforcements. Good. I have another task for you: Eliminate Dahos. He has outgrown his usefulness to me. His incompetence brought about the destruction of my Erolydon. I cannot trust Dahos. Or anybody."
"Needmore steel coins then, muchmore."
Hederick lurched against a piece of marble. "I've told you, you idiot, that all my money has gone to bribe the Highseekers in Haven. They will rule in my favor. All but Elistan, the fanatic, but he'll be a lone voice. I will remain High Theocrat of Solace, and there will be plenty of money to pay you later. But you'll have to wait."
"You notgo away. You owe we! Owe plenty!" The hobgoblin towered over Hederick. "You notgo away."
"Of course not." Hederick hiccoughed. "Where would I go? I shall remain in the old Seeker chapel in Solace. My priests are returning, even Dahos, and a few new novitiates."
Hederick's attention wandered. He seemed to be talking more to himself than to the hobgoblin and its comrades. "I still preach to the townspeople morning and evening, and they support my needs. Sauvay smiles upon me. I have bribe money enough. Imagine: Krynn-a Seeker theocracy, with me at its head! I will emerge victorious yet." Hederick shot them an unfocused look. "You will be wealthy enough then, vermin."
One of the goblins in the back erupted in what could have been a cough or a laugh, hastily muffled. The hobgoblin put a mailed hand on the hilt of its sword and glared equally at Hederick and the goblins.
In response, Hederick's hand went to his chest, felt briefly for something, then fell away empty.
For a moment, his watery blue eyes shone with fear. Then his eyelids drooped, and he staggered away from the goblins without comment or dismissal. A silver flask appeared in his hand.
His words drifted back in the night air.
"So what if it's gone, I don't need it, I don't need her. I don't need anybody!"
Epilogue
Astitms, leader of the Order of Aesthetics, surveyed the scribes before him and permitted a half-smile to grace his face for a fraction of a moment. Then it relaxed again into sternness.
Shortly before, Olven, Eban, and Marya had completed the manuscript, cut the scroll into uniform lengths, and bound the leaves into a book. That now book lay atop Astinus's desk in his private cell. He patted the tome as he addressed the scribes- now two, not three.
"You have done good work," he said. "You are apprentices no longer, but assistant scribes. Welcome."
Eban sighed in relief. But Marya said, "Where is Olven, master?"
Astinus didn't answer right away. Instead, the historian slipped off the stool, picked up the Hederick volume, and placed it on the wooden cart by the doorway. Later in the day, an assistant
would list the book in the library's records and assign it a place on the already overloaded shelves.
"Olven decided that he preferred a life out in the world," Astinus said after he returned to the stool. "We talked long. He felt chafed by the strictures he found here. Olven decided that he could not be happy for long if he were merely recording history. He is, I believe, on his way to Solace."
Eban's freckled face appeared mystified, but Marya suddenly smiled.
"And you, Marya?" Astinus asked her gently. "Can you remain here?"
The woman nodded. "For the time being," she whispered. "1 have things to learn first, before going my own way. Perhaps eventually I will follow Olven."
Eban looked from one to the other without comprehension. But the historian and the female scribe exchanged glances of perfect understanding.
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Hederick the Theocrat v-4 Page 26
