Amber and Iron - Margaret Weis [2]
Timothy came out of the darkness. He entered a world that seemed all twilight. He saw objects that looked familiar, but he couldn’t place them. He knew where he was, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. The woman he’d been with was gone. He tried to think of her name, but he couldn’t.
Only one name was in his mind and he whispered that name, “Mina …”
He knew her, though he’d never met her. She had beautiful amber eyes.
“Come to me,” said Mina. “My lord Chemosh has need of you.”
“I will,” Timothy promised. “Where do I find you?”
“Follow the road into the sunrise.”
“You mean leave my home? No, I can’t—”
Pain stabbed Timothy, horrible pain that was like the pain of dying.
“Follow the road into the sunrise,” said Mina.
“I will!” he gasped, and the pain eased.
“Bring disciples to me,” she told him. “Give others the gift you have been given. You will never die, Timothy. You will never age. You will never know fear. Give others this gift.”
An image of his wife came into his mind. Timothy had the vague notion that he didn’t want to do this, that he would hurt Gerta terribly if he did this to her. He wouldn’t …
Pain tore at him, bent and twisted him.
“I will, Mina!” he moaned. “I will!”
Timothy went home to his family. His baby was sleeping in the cradle, taking his afternoon nap. Timothy paid no attention to the child. He didn’t recall that it was his child. He cared nothing about it. He saw only his wife and he heard only the voice, Mina’s voice, saying, “Bring her.…”
“My dear!” Gerta greeted him, pleased but surprised. “What are you doing home? It’s the middle of the day?”
“I came home to be with you, my love,” said Timothy. He put his arms around her and kissed her. “Come to bed, wife.”
“Tim!” Gerta giggled and tried, half-heartedly, to push him away. “It’s still daylight!”
“What does that matter?” He was kissing her, touching her, and he felt her melt into his arms.
She made a last faint protest. “The baby—”
“He’s asleep. Come on.” Timothy pulled his wife down onto their bed. “Let me prove that I love you!”
“I know you love me,” said Gerta, and she nestled next to him and began to return his kisses.
She started to unlace his tunic, but he clasped his hands over her hands.
“There’s one thing you must do to prove that you love me, wife. I have recently become a follower of the god, Chemosh. I want you to share the joy I have found in following the god.”
“Why, of course, husband, if that’s what you want,” said Gerta. “But I know nothing of the gods. What sort of god is this Chemosh?”
“A god of unending life,” said Timothy. “Will you pledge yourself to him?”
“I will do anything for you, husband.”
He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. She sensed some inner struggle within him. His face twisted in pain.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, alarmed.
“Nothing!” he gasped. “A cramp in my foot. That’s all. Say the words: ‘I pledge myself to Chemosh.”
Gerta repeated the words and added, “I love you.”
Then Timothy said something very strange as he bent over and pressed his lips on her left breast above her heart.
“Forgive me.…”
s Ausric Krell, death knight, watched in astonishment, the white kender khas piece went racing across the board, lunged full-tilt at his own dark knight khas piece, and grappled with it. Both pieces fell off the board and began rolling around on the floor.
“Here, now! That’s against the rules,” was Krell’s first outraged thought.
His second, more bemused thought was, “I never saw a khas piece do that before.”
His third thought included dawning revelation. “That’s no ordinary khas piece.”
His fourth thought was deeply suspicious. “Something funny’s going on here.”
His thoughts after this were muddled, undoubtedly due to the fact that he was engaged in a battle for his undead life against a horrible giant mantis.
Krell had always detested bugs, and this particular mantis was truly terrifying,