Curse of the Shadowmage - Mark Anthony [111]
Somehow, Mari knew, this child was stronger than any of them.
"Of course," she murmured.
Kellen approached the fallen figure before the throne and lifted the glossy black pipes to his hps. For a moment he hesitated. A hush fell over the crater. Even the Valesong seemed to recede into the distance. It was as if the blasted land itself held its breath, waiting for him to play. Then play he did.
A melody rose from the pipes, gentle, mournful, and achingly beautiful in its simplicity. The voice of the pipes was so sweet and expressive that it seemed almost human, and Mari half-believed that, if she listened carefully, she could hear words in the music:
The Winter King lies sleeping Beneath the barren briar- All mantled in snow, And crowned below,
With berries red as fire.
The Winter Queen stands weeping Above her pale lord's rest- Awaiting the Spring, In garb of green. To bear her away on his breast.
So skillful was Kellen's playing that it took Mari several moments to realize the song was one she knew. A time-honored ballad, "The Winter King" was one of the first songs learned by an apprentice bard. Mari shivered; the ballad seemed especially poignant in this desolate place.
Ferret let out a gasp. "Did you see that?" Mari and Morhion stared in shock. The shadowking moved.
No-that wasn't quite it. The limp body of the creature had twitched, but not of its own volition. It was as if something had moved beneath the dark skin. The shadowking moved again, and its torso expanded. For a terrified moment, Mari feared that it was breathing. Then she realized that whatever was struggling was not beneath the corpse of the shadowking. It was inside of it.
Kellen lowered his pipes. "Cut it open!" he cried, "Hurry!"
Ferret reacted immediately. The thief leapt forward brandishing his dagger, and slipped the tip of the blade beneath the scaly skin of the shadowking's belly and tore a jagged opening from navel to throat. A flood of dark, gelatinous ichor poured out. Inside the husk of the shadowking, something struggled. Something alive.
"I don't believe this," Ferret rasped. "Mari, Morhion Help me!"
The thief plunged his hands into the slime and began to pull. Mari and the mage rushed forward to aid the thief. It was hard to get a grip on the slippery thing. Finally, as one, the three gave a heave. They nearly tum-bled backward as a slime-covered form burst free of the shadowking's body.
For a stunned moment, Mari could only stare. Then she approached the thing, kneeling beside it. Hesitantly at first, then with growing urgency, she used her bare hands wipe the dark ichor away. She uncovered naked arms, a bare chest, and finally… a face. Gasping, she backed away. Two eyes fluttered open-faded, familiar green eyes. For a moment they stared in wild confusion, then they settled on Mari.
"Hello, Al'maren," a hoarse voice whispered. It was Caledan.
*****
They built a fire in a small hollow at the base of the pinnacle, but Caledan did not think he would ever feel warm again. Mari had cleaned the worst of the slime from his gaunt body, and they had wrapped him in blan-kets and moved him close to the fire. Still he shivered. But toothy grin lent life to his haggard visage, and the light in his green eyes, though feverish, was bright and keen. Actually, I've been meaning to drop a few pounds for a while now," he said wryly, scratching his bony ribs. "I just didn't realize it would require such drastic measures." Absently, he ran his hand over his chest, wincing as his fingers brushed the oozing, star-shaped wound above his heart. Although it was the shadowking who had been burned by the molten Shadowstar, Caledan bore the brand.
"I don't understand, Caledan," Mari said softly. "It seemed that the song Kellen played helped free you from the shadowking. But I know that song, 'The Winter Ring.' Half the apprentice bards in the Heartlands caln play that tune. There's nothing