Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [121]
The hallways were empty, and Thanderahast's soft-soled shoes slapped hard against the flagstones. Right, then left, then an immediate right, and there would be…a hulking guard in the violet and ivory of the Purple Dragons, standing before the door that led to the king's chambers. He held up one hand. A war axe gleamed in the other. "Hold, young wizard," he said, eyes stern. "Why are you here at this late hour?"
Thanderahast drew a deep breath. What could he say? He'd been spying on the leader of the war wizards, and a cat had told him the king's life was in danger?
Instead, the mage thrust the cat up into view. As the guard stared at it, Thanderahast barked a series of short syllables that were old when Netheril was young and thrust out his free hand to touch the guard on the forehead. The guard managed to let out a mild curse as he slumped against the wall and then sagged there, snoring softly, as magical slumber claimed him.
Thanderahast burst through the doorway into an empty antechamber, then through its low arch into the king's own private quarters.
There was an immediate squeal, and a flash of pink flesh and blonde hair as the woman in the king's bed burrowed deeply beneath the covers. His Majesty himself was standing before the fire in a long nightshirt, a poker in hand, turning with a frown from tending the fire. Beyond him, the window was open to better vent its smoke.
Draxius's expression began with bewilderment and clouded toward anger. "What is the meaning…?" he began.
Through the open window, stars rippled, and Thanderahast caught sight of a flash of icicle-clear teeth in the darkness outside.
He threw the cat at the shimmering stars.
The small creature screamed a high-pitched howl as it flew across the room. That challenge was matched by another, throatier roar as the cat's claws dug deeply into invisible flesh. The cat seemed to spin in the air, raking the unseen assailant.
Long tears of blood appeared in midair. Apparently the creature's interior was not as proof against vision as its skin. The beast bellowed again, and the cat let go. The feline skittered across the room to the far side of the fire.
The blood remained, marking the creature's presence. Draxius charged and laid into it with the poker, battering it as if the cold-wrought iron was a battle mace. To Thanderahast, he shouted, "My blade… by the bed!"
The wizard snatched up the blade, oversized and unwieldy for his slight frame. When he turned back, the monster was more visible than before, blood painted a battered, teardrop-shaped head with a fanged mouth. From the bed came a muffled sob of hasty, fervent prayers.
Thanderahast shouted a warning and the king stood back. The wizard threw him the blade, sheath and all. Draxius caught the sword and spun it once to shake it loose from its sheath. Then he dropped the poker and returned to the fray.
Now the king of Cormyr cut long, deep slashes into the creature's blubbery hide. He roared in exultation as his blade bit deep. Advancing across the bed chamber, Thanderahast was shouting as well. Old spells, taught by the High Magess and spoken in forgotten tongues. Thanderahast's hands gleamed with pearly blue light, and out of its glow spewed a battery of darts made of solid magecraft, which leapt from his fingertips to lance into the beast's flesh.
The creature stumbled, tried to rise, and stumbled again. Its teeth were sharp and visible now, coated in its own blood. King Draxius stepped forward, and with one last, mighty blow cleaved the monster down the middle.
Sudden stillness fell in the room. The Netherese beast was dead, the last of its lifeblood a spreading pool before the fire. King Draxius looked down at its corpse with his blade ready in his hands, panting slightly, until he was sure that the ichor-stained beast would never move again.
"Well, that was a bit of excitement," the king said at last, exhaling deeply. Then he looked up at Thanderahast. "You're Amedahast's young whelp, aren't you? How did you know to come here?"
Thanderahast stammered