The spearhead connected with the abishai's scaly hide but failed to penetrate. At that same instant, Ythnel sensed her ward fail. She cursed herself for the tactical error. She backed away, hoping to put more distance between her and the devil and buy some time in the bargain. Feeling was coming back to her arm, but it would be several minutes before she could make any use of it.
Your weapon is useless.
"Drop!" The command came from the abishai's mouth, rather than inside her head. It sounded like a knife scraping against a whetstone, and so surprised Ythnel that her mental defenses were caught unprepared. She felt her hand release the spear and heard the weapon clatter to the ground.
If Ythnel had been a warrior who relied only upon steel and strength, she likely would have fled at that point. As it was, those things were only minor tools in her armory. Her greatest weapons were the link to her goddess and the Power she could call up through it. Matching the abishai step for step in an effort to keep it from closing the distance between them, Ythnel summoned the Power to her. It responded in a rush of exhilarating pain, the familiar sting of a thousand tiny lashes. Ythnel rose above the pain, shaping the Power into a manifestation of pure force. The air before her shimmered, and the Power coalesced in the form of a nine-tailed scourge tipped with wicked-looking, inch-long barbs. The weapon hovered there between the abishai and Ythnel, awaiting her command.
Your spirit weapon cannot harm me. The taunt lacked the confidence that had been behind the previous ones. It was as though uncertainty had crept into the devil's mind. And perhaps a little fear had edged in as well.
Ythnel sent the scourge whirling toward the abishai. The strike caught the infernal creature across the chest, and the weapon's barbs dug deep, tearing off scales as they raked the demon's hide to leave ichorous paths in their wake. The abishai hopped backward beyond the scourge's reach and crouched there. It seemed to be waiting for something, but nothing happened. It gingerly touched the open wounds on its torso with a claw, bringing the bloody tips up to stare at them in apparent surprise.
With a hiss of rage, it leaped in the air. Ythnel sent the scourge up to meet k, the tails whipping across the devil's face to leave oozing stripes of ichor. The abishai landed off balance, and Ythnel pressed her advantage. The scourge hurtled toward the abishai. It brought its wings around to shield its body, and the weapon dissipated upon contact.
Ythnel gasped in horror. The abishai slowly unfurled its wings, letting out a low, hissing laugh as it realized what had happened.
"Enough of this!" Kaestra screamed from the dais. "I command you to kill her now!"
The abishai glared at its mistress but obeyed, leaping into the air once more. Ythnel dived forward as it came down on top of her. Its claws scored on her back nonetheless, and she grunted as the nerves of her rent flesh burned with pain and froze at the same time from the chill of the strike. The maneuver worked though, as she now lay within reach of her pitchfork. Behind her, the sound of the abishai's wings flapping told her it had risen again for another attack. Grasping the weapon in the crook of her good arm, she swung around and propped herself up into a sitting position, the butt of the shaft braced against the floor at a forty-five degree angle.
Once more, Ythnel called upon the link to her goddess, called upon all the Power she could channel. Crying out for vengeance, she focused all the pain that had been visited upon her, the suffering that demanded retribution, into the spear she held. It began to glow an angry red that pulsed faster and harder as Ythnel pushed every last thought of punishment she could conjure into the wood and metal weapon.
The abishai, thinking its victim finished, was already hurtling toward Ythnel when she brought the spear to bear. Unable to stop its descent, it slammed into the glowing weapon. The monster's momentum carried it down the shaft, the spearhead piercing internal organs and breaking through the scales of the abishai's back. In a final pulse of red energy, the spear and the devil exploded, showering Ythnel in gore and splinters.
"Run, child," Ythnel ordered. "I will meet you outside when this is over. Now run." Iuna sprinted down the nave but paused at the doors that led out of the temple and turned back to look one more time. Mistress Kaestra had completed her spell and stood at the top of the dais grinning in triumph while Ythnel approached warily.
Then the monster appeared out of the midst of Entropy and Iuna decided it was time to leave. She slipped out the door and closed it behind her. Her heart was racing with fear as she leaned up against the door.
What should she do now? Ythnel had told her to wait, but Iuna wasn't sure the woman would survive. If she was killed, Iuna would be left to fend for herself. Not a very promising prospect, Iuna admitted to herself. More than likely, she would be recaptured and be severely beaten, if not worse.
"She has to win," Iuna whispered to herself. "She promised she would take me away from here." Tears started to well up, and she scrubbed at her eyes defiantly. She was not going to cry. She was going to be stronglike Ythnel. If she could suffer all that she had and still come back to challenge Mistress Kaestra, then Iuna could, too.
Iuna decided to move a little ways down the portico and tripped over the body of the priest who had answered the door for Ythnel. When she realized what it was, Iuna screamed, but quickly clamped her own hand over her mouth to cut herself off. Ythnel was in there fighting for their lives, and she didn't need Iuna alerting anyone else that something was wrong at the Temple of Entropy.
"No!" Kaestra screamed. Her face was a mask of fury. "I will not be denied this victory." She strode down the steps of the dais, her right hand raised in a clenched fist, a black haze forming around it. Ythnel scrambled away, pushing herself to her feet and turning to face Kaestra. The Entropist struck out with her hand, and Ythnel staggered backward, barely avoiding the blow. Enraged, Kaestra lunged, her hand outstretched. The move was sloppy, and Ythnel dodged aside easily. The momentum carried Kaestra past Ythnel, and Ythnel stuck her leg out, hooking the Entropist's ankle with her own foot. Kaestra tumbled to the floor face-first. As she struggled to get up, Ythnel kicked her in the ribs, putting plenty of force behind the greaves of her armor, and heard bone crunch. Kaestra groaned and tried to get up again, but Ythnel stomped on her arm just below the triceps, snapping the bone. Kaestra cried out, clutched her broken arm, and rolled onto her back to face Ythnel.
"Consider yourself denied," Ythnel panted.
Kaestra's lip curled in a snarl. "I am not through yet."
"No, I think you're quite finished."
"Think again." Kaestra raised her good arm. Ythnel leaped back, mistaking the gesture as some sort of attack. Then she heard a rumbling behind her and turned to see the dark sphere of Entropy moving through the air toward her.
"Let's see how you fare against a god," Kaestra cackled. The sphere advanced inexorably through the nave. It came into contact with the front row of pews, and the wooden benches disappeared, their forms twisting and distorting as they were sucked into the sphere.
Ythnel gasped, eliciting another laugh from Kaestra. The high priestess sat up and motioned again. Entropy picked up speed, coming straight for Ythnel.
She dived to the floor, and the sphere passed over her by inches, leaving a path of destruction in its wake. Ythnel tried to crawl away, but Kaestra sent the sphere after her. She rolled to the side, and Entropy flew past her into the near wall, leaving a gaping hole. The wall trembled then collapsed in a shower of stone and mortar. Ythnel managed to hide among the ruins of the wall before the dust cleared enough for the high priestess to see her.
There was no way she could defeat Entropy, Ythnel knew. Neither could she keep dodging its charges. She was tiring and would eventually make a mistake or react too slowly. If she couldn't beat the sphere, though, she could finish off Kaestra. It appeared that Entropy was responding to the high priestess's directions. Without her guidance, perhaps it would return to its former stasis.
"You cannot hide, Loviatan!" Kaestra called out. "I will destroy t
his whole temple if I have to."
Ythnel believed her. She cast about for something to use as a weapon. A glint caught her eye, and she saw the steel tip of her spear resting not far from her on the floor. However, reaching it meant moving from the small cover she was hiding behind. Deciding to risk it, she darted for the spearhead.
Kaestra spotted Ythnel and immediately sent Entropy after her. Ythnel grabbed the short length of shaft still attached to the spearhead and stood, swivel-ing to face Kaestra.
"I've had just about enough of you and your god," Ythnel said and hurled the spearhead at Kaestra. The high priestess opened her mouth in surprise, and her eyes widened as the makeshift weapon flew true, burying itself in her breast. Blood blossomed across Kaestra's white tabard, and her eyes fluttered. Her mouth worked in an effort to say something, but all that came out was a trickle of blood. She sagged back against the end of a pew and died.
Ythnel let out a sigh of relief then remembered Entropy. She looked to her left and saw the sphere hovering motionless less than a foot beside her. "That was closer than I would have liked."
With one last look around the nave, Ythnel staggered out of the temple and into the night. She leaned heavily against one of the columns outside to catch her breath and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. The air was chill, and she felt gooseflesh rise along her arms and legs.
"Ythnel!"
The shout brought Ythnel's head up, and she saw Iuna coming toward her from the shadows of the portico. Ythnel pushed herself up off the column and embraced the girl with her good arm.
"It's snowing, Ythnel. I've never seen snow before."
Ythnel looked out into the night to see flakes of white coming down in a steady flurry. The ground was already covered in a light dusting.
"I've never seen snow before, either." She smiled down at Iuna. "Come on. Let's get out of here." They walked out under the snow toward the waiting street. Ythnel wasn't sure how they would get out of the city, but she was too tired and sore to think about that now.
A black carriage pulled up to the gap between the walls surrounding the temple, blocking access to the street. Ythnel halted as soon as she saw it, shoving Iuna protectively behind her. Between the snow and the shadows, she couldn't identify who was driving.
"Get inside. We don't have all night. Or would you rather walk?" Kestus hopped down from the driver's seat of the carriage, a welcoming grin splitting his face. Ythnel breathed a sigh of relief and jogged to the carriage, pulling Iuna along behind her. Kestus helped them both inside, closed the door behind them, and climbed back up to take the reins. Then the carriage took off once more into the night, heading toward the South Gate and out of Luthcheq.
EPILOGUE
Aznar Thrul sat at his dining table, sipping the bowl of soup before him with disinterest. He really wasn't hungry. Well, at least he was not hungry for food. There was time to kill, however, so he went through the motions of taking his evening meal. When Aznar had nearly finished half the bowl, his chamberlain appeared to announce that his guest had arrived and was waiting in the bedchamber. Aznar nodded his acknowledgment and continued with the meal. When the last of the soup had been drained, he dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clink, pushed back from the table, and rose.
He forced himself to maintain a leisurely pace as he strode down the hall to his chambers. Tonight's meeting had occupied his thoughts all day. It was a long time coming, and the possibilities excited him. This would not be just another conquest. It would be the start of something bigger.
At the door to his room, Aznar paused to compose himself. It was important that he remained in control, and letting too much emotion show could jeopardize that. Satisfied that his face revealed nothing more than he wanted it to, he opened the door and step inside.
Headmistress Yenael sat on the bed, her body half-turned toward the door. As was customary for all visitors to the zulkir's chambers, whatever clothes she had worn to the Citadel had been left in the care of his chamberlain. In their place, Yenael was given a sheer white gown. The practice was for security reasons, of course, but Aznar certainly didn't mind the additional benefits it occasionally presented him. Even after twenty years, Yenael's body was still firm and quite attractive. He didn't bother to hide a smile of pleasure as he walked to the center of the room.
"So, do you have something to report, or was this visit simply a social call." He watched her from the corner of his eye. She had made no pretenses at modesty when he entered, and he had expected none. That was the other purpose of the gown. Being naked in the presence of others who were dressed was often unsettling enough for people that they let their guard down and gave away things they hadn't intended to. Yenael's face was placid, and her body language said she was perfectly comfortable. Aznar wondered why that didn't anger him.
"My agent was successful, O Mighty Tharchion, Mightier Zulkir." She used the proper address, but her tone of voice did not hold any acknowledgment of the weight behind those titles. "I'm sure your own intelligence sources have already informed you that Mordulkin's forces are on the move."
Aznar nodded and moved over to an end table that held a tray with a decanter of Thayan brandy and two glasses. He offered one to Yenael, but she shook her head, so he poured for himself and set the decanter down. Picking up the glass, he turned to Yenael and took a sip.
"So, the question now is whether Mordulkin will remember its promise once Luthcheq falls."
"I would not worry about it, O Mighty Tharchion, Mightier Zulkir. Hercubes is a man of his word. He will honor the agreement. The city will stand, as much as it chafes him. And you will be allowed to establish an enclave by whomever is installed as governor."
"A governor I will have chosen," Aznar laughed, "though Hercubes will think it was his own decision."
"Of course," Yenael agreed.
Aznar downed the remainder of his brandy and returned the glass to its place on the end table. He was almost giddy over the success of his plan. The enclave would be the first of many he'd sponsor. No longer would he have to worry about his rival zulkirs gaining some advantage over him through this enterprise. As a bonus, he would be ridding Faerun of the fanatical Karanok family and their insane dream of purging the world of wizards. It was certainly a cause for celebration if ever there was one, and he said as much out loud.
"Did you have something particular in mind, O Mighty Tharchion, Mightier Zulkir?" Yenael asked, her eyebrow arched.
"It has been a while since I was last subject to your ministrations," Aznar mused. "I'd be interested in seeing how much your skills have progressed." to her.
Saestra Karanok leaned against the back of the chaise lounge with her right arm folded under her breasts while she played absently with the dagger in her left hand. She wore a backless lace blouse with frilly sleeves that matched her violet eyes, tucked into a black, mid-thigh-length leather skirt. The skirt was practically indecent, but she enjoyed it. A pair of French doors leading to a balcony in the wall behind her had been swung open, allowing the light of the full moon and the occasional wintry gust of wind to enter the room. She watched as a wisp of cloud crossed the face of Selune and sighed.
Things were starting to unravel in Luthcheq. Kaestra, her twin sister, had been found dead in the Temple of Entropy, the black sphere itself hovering just a few feet from her. There were rumors and whispers that the god had killed its high priestess in displeasure for the church's crusade against the Art. These were reinforced by the alleged "wizard attacks" this past Midwinter and the reports that the forces of Mordulkin were now on the move against the city.
To make things worse, with the removal of the Mage Society, Saestra's father, Jaerios, no longer ordered witch hunts within the walls of Luthcheq, effectively eliminating the story she used to cover up her nightly forages. She desperately needed to find a new means of discarding the bodies and misdirecting any inquiries made about their disappearances.
The creaking of old wood brought Saestra's attention back to her roo
m. Against the left wall stood two matching sarcophagi of darkly stained wood. Stylized images of a Mulhorandi pharaoh and queen were carved into the covers of each. Saestra had imported them a while ago to decorate her apartments, though the pharaoh's sarcophagus had been in storage until recently.
Its cover now swung open, revealing the body of Naeros Karanok in a stately repose. Saestra smiled, her tongue playing over her fangs.
"I wondered when you were going to wake up."
Naeros's eyes fluttered open, and he glided forward, the cover of the sarcophagus closing behind him. Slowly his feet settled to the stone floor, and his arms unfolded. "Good evening, Mistress," he said, turning to look at Saestra. "What is your will?"
"Yes, yes." She stood up and wandered over to the balcony. The nights were still quite chilly, but Saestra was unaffected by such things. She glanced wistfully out across the stair-step skyline of the city.
"Do you think we should leave, dear brother?"
"Why would we have to leave?"
"Because things are becoming too risky to remain here for much longer. With each feeding, we move closer to discovery."
"Who cares?" Naeros snarled. "They cannot hurt us. We should just kill them all."
Saestra frowned. She thought turning Naeros into a spawn would be a wickedly cruel revenge at first, but he was just as much a bore undead as he had been while alive. Violence was always his answer, without any consideration of the consequences. She wished now that she had just killed him along with his thugs.
"And what about Father? Should we welcome him into our new family, or just kill him with the rest." Saestra didn't bother to keep the irritation and sarcasm from her voice, though it was wasted on Naeros anyway. She did not wait for his answer. "Never mind. I'll think of something." She walked back into the room and came over to Naeros.
"I bet you're hungry after sleeping for so long." She petted his head as she would a lost puppy. He nodded eagerly, a wide grin revealing his own set of fangs.
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