Curse of the Shadowmage - Mark Anthony [103]
Smoothly, K'shar pulled the sword from the black chrysalis. A thin stream of dark vitriol spilled out of the slit, pooling before the throne. The chrysalis gave one final twitch, then lay still. The stream of dark fluid slowed to a trickle before ceasing. Whatever had pulsated inside the glossy shell moved no longer. Slowly, his golden eyes unreadable, K'shar turned away from the throne.
"You've killed my father," Kellen said quietly. The sword slipped from K'shar's hands, clattering to the stone. "I know," he replied solemnly. "Yet whatever you think of me, do not think that I feel no sorrow. I watched my mother die at the hands of men who feared her for the blood that ran in her veins. Your father has died for no better reason. And for no worse." A bitter smile twisted his lips. "Now we are like kin, you and I."
"Damn you to the Abyss!" Morhion snarled. "You are nothing to him, save his father's murderer!"
Ferret sprang forward, pressing a dagger against K'shar's throat. The half-elf did not resist. "I'm sure you want to kill this bastard yourself, Morhion," the thief rasped, "but I'm afraid I'm going to do it first. Sorry-you know how selfish we thieving types can be."
"Stop!"
The others looked up in shock as Mari stepped forward, raising a hand in protest. She would not allow further conflict. There had been enough death in this blasted place.
Morhion's eyes blazed. "What is wrong with you, Mari? Let the thief do his work."
Ferret pressed the knife harder against the bronzed flesh of K'shar's throat. A bead of dark blood ran down the half-elf's neck. K'shar did not even blink.
"Yes," the Hunter whispered. "Let him."
"No, I will not." Mari was surprised at the icy authority in her voice. "It was not K'shar who killed Caledan. It was the Harpers. The half-elf was simply their tool, something with which I am well familiar. Murdering K'shar will not change anything. It will merely spill more blood." She glared at Ferret. "Do you want that blood to be on your hands, Ferret Talondim?" She turned to face Morhion. "How about on yours, Morhion Gen'dahar?"
The two men stared at her in silence while K'shar watched with curious eyes. At last Morhion opened his mouth to say something. His words were cut off by
Kellen's frightened cry. "Look at the throne!"
Ferret lowered his dagger as all turned to gaze at the throne. Something moved inside the black chrysalis. It pressed against the glossy sheath, distorting it. Then the husk rocked violently, once, and a dark shape began to push through the slit cut by the sword. Something was hatching out of the chrysalis.
They watched in a mixture of fascination and revulsion as, slick with black mucous, a tightly coiled form struggled weakly through the rip in the glossy shell. With one final, spasmodic jerk, the thing heaved itself free, falling with a wet smack! to the stone platform. It lay curled before the throne, flexing feebly, rhythmically, like a newborn creature still damp with fetal liquid. That was exactly what it was, Mari realized with a nauseating feeling. They were witnessing the birth of a shadowking.
The thing was curled tightly, so sticky with black ichor they could make out little of its form, save that it had long, supple limbs and two pulsating protrusions on its back that could only be stubby wings. A dull, spiky lump of metal rested against its chest. The Shadowstar. The creature was shuddering.
"There's something wrong with it," Ferret choked. "It was born too soon," Morhion said grimly. "K'shar's blow released it from the chrysalis before its metamorphosis was complete."
Mari shivered. "Will it…" She forced herself to rephrase her words. "Will he die?"
Morhion shook his head. "No. It's growing stronger every moment. I think it will live. But it is vulnerable now, while it is still taking shape."
"Then