Black wizards - Douglas Niles [47]
The blood drained slowly from Alexei's face, and a knot of panic built in his stomach. No! It was too soon – he was not ready yet! He looked into Cyndre's eyes – pools of pale blue, as harsh as the arctic sky – and he could not answer. He struggled to speak, but no words came forth.
"Can you give me some reassurances, Alexei? Some proof of your trustworthiness?"
He knows. The knowledge burned Alexei's face, and he could speak no reply. The truth would doom him, and he could summon no lie to his lips.
"Very well," said Cyndre, his voice dripping with regret.
The wizard gestured, and streams of colored lights rushed from his fingertips to swirl about the recalcitrant lieutenant. Alexei's hood flew back, his stark features outlined in terror. The mage was tall and thin, but the eerie shadows from the spell gave his face a gaunt, emaciated look. His mouth opened in a soundless scream – or perhaps the noise he made was masked from the council by the filtering curtain of lights.
Alexei's long, thin hands clasped the arms of his chair, but already his image grew blurry. In moments he had faded from view, banished, the other wizards knew, to a lonely imprisonment in a place known only to the master.
* * * * *
A few hours later, the assassin and his band dashed through the courtyards of Caer Callidyrr on galloping black steeds. Racing through the night, they thundered along the streets of the town and soon disappeared along the King's Road. They rode to the south.
* * * * *
Chauntea heard Bhaal's challenge and saw the game of the evil god. She briefly pondered her response. The Moon-shaes were a small realm, unimportant in the vast scale of her domains. Were they worth the trouble of a conflict?
Yet the isles had shown some promise. The people there, the Ffolk, were a good people – strong and devout in their own way. It saddened her to think of them falling under the thrall of Bhaal's evil.
And too, the acts of the evil god needed a counter, or they would grow too powerful and arrogant for the safety of all the planes. Since Bhaal had chosen the Moonshaes for his game, and Chauntea, alone among the gods of good, had power there, should she not resist him?
Chauntea, like Bhaal, had clerics among the Ffolk. Though perhaps not as powerful – and certainly not as deadly – as the minions of Bhaal, her clerics had skills of their own: healing, beneficial powers.
Perhaps one of them could aid the players in this game. She selected several of her worshippers, not certain what the future would hold. Perhaps one of them might have the chance to do her bidding.
Chauntea made her wishes known to these clerics in the guise of a dream.
VII
The Scarlet Guard
Robyn took a deep breath and felt her body relax as she exhaled. She felt weak but immeasurably better than she had upon first awakening. Whatever the nature of Acorn's black rock, it had been far mightier than her ability to protect herself. Her fingers were blistered and hot, though the damage did not look permanent. She splashed one more handful of cool water against her face.
She stood up and stretched slowly, trying to shake off a sense of guilt over Acorn's death. She had had no choice! Angrily, she wondered about the sudden transformation. Certainly, he had made her nervous before, but what had driven him to attack? Why, when she would have spared him, had he been driven by such bloodlust? And a deeper, even more frightening question arose within her: How had he come to learn druid magic?
"What did you do with that thing – that rock?" she asked Newt, who buzzed worriedly at her shoulder.
"Oh, that awful stone! I hated it, and I took it away from here. It was no good for you! I hope you're not mad at me – I only wanted to help!" The little dragon shivered at the memory of the rock, peering hopefully at Robyn.
"No, you did the right thing," she said reassuringly. "Poor Newt. You worry too much, like an old nursemaid."
"Well, I just wanted to see you awake again! And I must say, getting rid of that nasty fellow doesn't