She asked, "Am I speaking to Cynosure Prime, or Cynosure?"
A moment of silence, then, "I am back in the loop, Delphe. Thank you." The voice emerged from the air next to her as if to prove the point.
"And how are you. . finding the landscape now that you've returned?" The abjurer clutched her amulet, ready to sever the idol's connection with Stardeep at the very first sign of anything untoward.
"I find everything a bit. . cramped, I suppose is the best way to explain it. But other than some awkwardness, it seems that my access to Stardeep's functions is reestablished. For instance, I note all conditions are ideal in the Well."
Delphe nodded, allowed herself a shard of hope. She said, "Cynosure, please transfer me to the Throat now."
A shiver of discontinuity, and she stood in the mirrored chamber. The glow from up the Well cast her features in flickering orange hues. As usual.
"By the Sign, I'm happy to leave those transfers to you!"
"It is my pleasure, Delphe."
She walked to her glassy command chair and sat.
"Delphe, I have something I'd like to ask you about."
Her heart caught in her throat. Apprehension pitched her voice higher than normal as she said, "Ask away, Cynosure. Is something wrong?"
"Perhaps. As we speak, I am re-acquainting myself with the nodes that have returned to my control, including the statue in the Throat, and those in the Inner Bastion and the Outer, as well as all those in between and underneath. However, I find myself unable to access certain memories stored in the loop."
"Memories?"
"I am unable to access records for specific places and times within Stardeep, beginning some two years ago."
A chill crawled across Delphe's neck. "Is it a corruption?" Did she need to flush Cynosure from Stardeep's control functions once more?
"I am unable to access specific memories because of a command lock. A command lock I wasn't even aware of until you reintroduced me moments ago. Prior to taking me out of the loop, one of the nodes, now inactive, must have been preventing me from noticing. But now the missing records are obvious, and I must admit, unsettling."
"What is the authorization on the command lock?" she asked. Unless the idol itself had experienced some sort of schizophrenic error localized to one of the nodes she'd dropped from the network-
"Keeper Telarian ordered the lock."
It seemed that the entire world dropped a foot.
She started breathing again and said, "Cynosure, listen. I am giving you a counter command. As a Keeper of the Cerulean Sign, I command you to erase those locks and integrate those memories. Now."
Just in case, she keyed her mind, ready to flush Cynosure. Clicking issued from the large statue on the ceiling, then the idol said, "All records are integrated."
"And?"
"Delphe, we have a problem with Telarian."
Delphe sat in her chair, watching a landslide of events unfold that she could scarcely acknowledge. She saw Telarian unearthing an ancient test node from the repository with Cynosure's unsuspecting help, a node that the diviner then used to infiltrate Stardeep's command functions. One of his first actions was ordering Cynosure to keep part of itself private and secret from its larger cognizance, and what's more, from her.
"How. . why. . why would he do that?" she murmured as she watched.
She saw Telarian leaving and returning to Stardeep via the Causeway far more often than she'd ever realized. Creeping dread tingled up her spine.
And Delphe witnessed Telarian accessing an ancient space known to the previous Keepers but which appeared on no map she'd ever seen: the fabled armory.
In that dark space, Telarian found a glass vessel containing a wraithlike essence-a soul, or part of one. In that container was the detritus of a spirit left behind after every hint of nobility was extracted to forge the Blade Cerulean.
Delphe was familiar with the history of Stardeep, especially the momentous events of ten years ago. No one connected to the Cerulean Sign didn't know Keeper Nangulis's personal sacrifice, though because it had occurred a decade ago, few recalled the event with any regularity. Nangulis's body had died, and his fellow Keeper had wielded his soulforged blade to quell the Traitor. The Traitor's foiled effort severely weakened him, and he had not stirred again within the Well until just recently. The remaining Keeper, unfortunately, had then fled Stardeep with the Blade Cerulean in hand, robbing the Keepers of the Cerulean Sign of a potent weapon.
She watched as Telarian moved around the darkened vault, slowly refurbishing its furnace, reconditioning its forge, and relighting its magical flame. He spent months studying the masterwork tools. He spent an equal amount of time staring into the carved alcove at the chamber's rear where a crystal vessel was stored. Where the half-soul writhed in anticipation.
Until then, Delphe had never considered the fate of Nangulis's soul-residue not used in the creation of Angul-she'd assumed it had simply. . dissipated. It had been stored in Stardeep all this time. Waiting, half-alive but alone. Wrathful, but impotent. Until Telarian found the armory. How had her fellow Keeper even known where to look? His divinatory talent, most likely-a talent, she now hypothesized, that perhaps left him too open to manipulation.
She watched Telarian decant the inky, deceitful spirit into a cast of molten steel.
She asked Cynosure to compress time. Days of Telarian's activity flew by in moments. Finally, she saw the diviner grasp the hilt and hold the darkling blade high. But who grasped whom? When his naked hands touched the blade, Telarian's features seemed to warp and flow, becoming an iron mask calculating the ruin of all fleshy things, all emotion, and all light. Telarian announced in a voice shorn of empathy, "Your name… is Nis."
"Stop!" Delphe yelled. The mirrors went dark.
Her hands trembled. She had wondered where the diviner acquired his new blade. When she'd asked, he had shrugged, as if it were unimportant, a mere affectation. Now she wished she didn't know the truth.
"Delphe, he used that blade to strike down Brathtar," volunteered Cynosure.
"Strike down?"
"Knight Commander Brathtar is dead, slain by Telarian with the blade Nis. His body lies in a refuse pit of the underdungeon, along with those of the Knights who witnessed his death."
"The Sign preserve us," she breathed. "He has betrayed us. Betrayed Stardeep. . betrayed me!"
She nearly shrieked the last as a sudden blaze of anger briefly scorched mounting fear and dread. Her mouth was dry and a haze seemed to hang in the air. She wiped at her eyes. All the years they had worked together, shoulder to shoulder, seeing to Stardeep's needs, keeping safe their promise to the future-how many of those years had she blithely, unknowingly lived Telarian's lie?
The images showed a man seemingly in the grip of some sort of possession. But even that couldn't be true. During her recent conversation with Telarian, his wit, reason, and personality were undeniably that of the man she'd always known. No alien entity spoke through Telarian's shape. No, the man was responsible for his own actions. Damn him. How had he been corrupted?
"Where is Telarian now?" she demanded, her voice rough.
"I have been querying all nodes, but I cannot locate him."
"He's left Stardeep?"
"Possibly," replied the idol. "Though I note all my perception pools in the Knights' barracks are blacked out. He could be there."
Delphe stood, her face flushed with sudden decision. "We must confront him-neutralize him. By his own deeds he has shown himself to be Stardeep's enemy. Who knows what he'll do next, or what damage he's already done? At least now we know why the Traitor has been so active. Cynosure, activate a defender statue near the Knights' barracks, and transfer me there."
"I've already activated five," Cynosure said. "But Delphe, you are exhausted. I have tracked your activities, and I know how little rest you've taken. Do you think it wise to confront Nis's wielder now?"
Delphe swept her hand in a dismissive gesture. "We have to catch him b
efore he suspects we know of his betrayal. If we wait, we may miss our best chance to move against him."
"Very well, Delphe," said Cynosure as the world blinked.
She then stood in the wide, high Parade Hall outside the Knights' barracks, where the Empyrean Legion often drilled and perfected its techniques. The many doors of the stables fronted the Parade Hall to the west, and to the south a high archway opened onto the main corridors of the Outer Bastion. To the east was another high archway, opening onto a steep, little-used ramp that led to Stardeep's underdungeon.
Flickering magical flames cast warm light down from the ceiling-mounted braziers, striking glints and gleams off the five humanoid constructs that shared the otherwise empty chamber. Each had thick metal plates bolted over a stone-sculpted body, reinforcing the granite strength with the protection only a magical forge could offer. Eight or nine feet tall, each defender's hands were curled into stone-and-iron fists as large as Delphe's entire body. Empowered soulsword or not, Telarian was about to meet the justice his perfidy had earned.
"Still no contact from within," uttered the lead construct. Cynosure equally inhabited all five mobile idols, while at the same time inhabiting all the rest of Stardeep. His power was vast. It frightened her to think Telarian had managed to insert his own twisted control over the powerful sentient artifact.
"In we go," she replied. As the lead construct moved to the barracks door, she quietly uttered words of hardening and strength, such that her own skin took on a hardness akin to stone.
A gasping, wide-eyed Knight's apprentice met them at the door. A young elf, not yet a month out of Sild?yuir, the apprentice had never seen one of Cynosure's statues walking about, let alone a group of five. All color drained from his face, and he tried but failed to produce any sound to greet Delphe.
"Where is Telarian? Is he within?" demanded Delphe.
The apprentice blinked and shook his head. He finally gained enough control over his voice to say, "He was, but he just rode out-he took most of the Knights with him, to counter the attack!"
"What attack?"
The apprentice stuttered. "Wha-you don't know? Telarian said-"
"Tell me what Telarian said, and where he has gone," she commanded.
He nodded. "Keeper Telarian perceived an attack against Stardeep launched from Sild?yuir itself, through the ancient tunnels of the underdungeon. Telarian led the Knights to oppose the Traitor's allies who seek to sneak in upon us all unawares."
"Which allies of the Traitor did Telarian indicate are moving against us-do they have a name?" she asked. Not that she expected anything but lies from the diviner's mouth. What was shockingly, horrifyingly apparent was that Telarian had emptied the barracks of an elite fighting force of more than two hundred Empyrean Knights. Two hundred Knights, whom he was apparently leading into the forlorn, unmapped tunnels whose existence predated the building of Stardeep, and Sild?yuir itself. For what purpose? Did he hope to sap Stardeep's strength by leading its defenders into an ambush?
One of the constructs stepped past the apprentice before the elf could answer Delphe, its metal footfalls echoing like a boulder-fall as it moved to investigate. The elf turned to watch the construct with wide eyes.
She repeated, "Apprentice-who attacks us, according to Telarian?"
"I… I am not privy to that information, Keeper. I suppose … it was nilshai who attacked-they are growing more aggressive all the time."
Delphe paused. Was that possible? Certainly it could be, but then the image of Telarian's face as he grasped Nis visited her. It was the face of a betrayer. All words that emerged from her fellow Keeper's mouth were now suspect.
She asked, "Did they go on horse?"
The apprentice shrugged. "Yes. He said the tunnels were wide enough to allow a mounted company swift passage for many miles."
Moments later, a construct different than the one that had rushed past the apprentice spoke with Cynosure's voice. "Only apprentices, smiths, and like support staff yet populate the barracks."
Delphe, already looking at the darkened archway leading into the underdungeon, was at a loss. Why had Telarian sent the Knights tearing off into the twisted tunnels beneath Stardeep on horse? The underdungeon tunnels connected, eventually, back into Sild?yuir, but that which lay between was unmapped, and worse, was demonstrably lethal. Threats lurked in those ancient warrens whose origins reached further back than Stardeep's delving. Traps fueled by ancient magic, and the restless spirits of those who had once lived there. The d?tente of a thousand years was based on the fact that no dwellers of those warrens ever wandered up to bedevil Stardeep, and no organized force from Stardeep ever ventured into those narrow ways to discover the true nature of the presumed threats.
A stand-off now shattered by Telarian, because of some supposed attack.
"Cynosure, I am not sure what course is best."
"We could follow him, but it is clear he has the Knights' trust. With all ten defender statues, I could deal serious damage, but I would not want to unleash my strength against those whose duty compels them to answer to Telarian's orders."
"Of course. We must not oppose the Knights. They are our best strength, not our foes. It is against Telarian alone we must set ourselves. But first, I need to discover what Telarian truly intends. Does he dance on the strings of the Traitor's desire, or has he simply gone insane?"
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sildyuir, Moonveil Citadel
One by one, the glass towers softened, leaned, and fell into consuming fire. The burning citadel glowed so brightly the stars directly above the inferno were smeared out in the orange glare. The wide, fey plain had lost its innocence.
The scene affected her like a physical blow; Kiril's stomach twisted and her knees threatened to give way. She spit out a garbled curse, gasped, and took off running down the hill. Xet screeched and darted overhead in crazed, anxious patterns. She heard the sorcerer exclaim in surprise behind her. She cared not. Let the strangers follow her or stay back. Before her was Moonveil Citadel, one of the premier mansions of Sild?yuir. If Moonveil was in flames. .
Raidon caught up, easily matching her stride for stride. He said, "I see figures sprawled in front of the fiery structure, unmoving. Better we approach cautiously. Whatever attacked this structure and set it ablaze may lurk nearby."
Kiril narrowed her eyes and scanned the periphery of the structure. She saw the bodies Raidon spoke of. The sight of what were likely injured or dead star elves sprawled like gruesome trophies in front of their home lent more speed to her stride. She yelled, "I hope the blood-flecked bastards responsible are still lurking. When I catch them. ."
The monk kept pace, his breath inaudible, while her own grew louder and more ragged. Chain mail, even elven chain mail, was not designed to accommodate a runner. She heard another yelled protest from Adrik, this time more faint.
When she and Raidon reached the foot of the blaze, she was gasping. The heat from the fire drew beads of sweat instantly to her forehead and forearms. The figures they'd glimpsed silhouetted were indeed star elves. Twelve people were laid out in all, ranging in age from rickety elders to youths not yet into their first decade. She recognized Nandor, Avarin, and Nelandrion from visits to Moonveil when she was a child. Now they were dead. And. . Kiril sucked in her breath. Each body lacked its eyes; bloody sockets stared in grisly parody of perception. Something had collected trophies.
"What Hells-spawned bastard did this?" she whispered. Were glass citadels all across Sild?yuir ablaze like Moonveil? Was the Traitor already free, and visiting his frustrated vengeance on his own people, those who had imprisoned him for so many centuries?
"Behind you!" came Adrik's warning, too late.
A flame had detached from the blackened, sagging mansion wall. It charged her and Raidon as they stared at the violated bodies. The flame raced across the ground, revealing in its bright core a humanoid conflagration. Surprised, her hand fumbled ineffectively for Angul's hilt even as the fiery creature collided
with her.
Searing pain choked a strangely high-pitched gasp from her lips. The overheated air pulled the very breath from her lungs. The creature's burning limbs wrapped about her, pulling her close in a burning, elemental bear hug. Her hair smoldered and caught flame. She strained toward Angul, but her arms were caught within the encircling grasp. She couldn't reach Angul's hilt!
The monk drew his slender blade, and with masterful proficiency, laid into the burning creature's fiery core while deftly avoiding Kiril.
The fire elemental shuddered, and the elf renewed her effort to burst free. Success! She tumbled into the cool air, rolling to put some distance between herself and her foe and to put out the flames that burned her clothing. Beating out the flames in her hair, she stood, trailing a corona of dark smoke. The smell of burnt leather and hair pinched her nose.
Raidon danced back and forth with the living inferno, using his strangely shaped weapon in two hands, even though the blade was no longer than an ordinary long sword. The straight blade with its curved point danced like a needle, slashing, parrying, and plunging at the creature's fiery core. In turn, the dancing mote of heat and flame drew ever closer to the monk, pawing at Raidon with claws of flickering red and yellow. The fire consuming the citadel blazed steadily, and Kiril realized that fighting the elemental so close to the fire that spawned it was likely a waste of time. Every strike Raidon landed was burned away, revealing unblemished, sun-bright "flesh" moments later.
"Fall back, Raidon!" she ordered. "It shrugs off injury while it is so close to the great fire!" She hoped her surmise was true.
The monk danced away from Moonveil Citadel, as did she, now consciously avoiding Angul's lure. She had been true to her resolve regarding the whisky, and unless she needed to draw the blade to save her life, she didn't want to risk succumbing utterly to his control; without alcohol insulating her mind, she was far more vulnerable.
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