Darkvision - Bruce R. Cordell [66]
What if Shaddon was contaminated with the same strange presence Zel noticed plaguing Xaemar? Warian couldn't laugh off the possibility-he'd noted something strange at the family meeting, that was sure. And the change in his own arm must be somehow connected. What if Shaddon was the actual source of the contamination? It seemed a reasonable guess. Shaddon was a Datharathi, and that meant finding opportunities for business and advancement whenever possible.
And his arm-would he, too, fall under the influence of the contamination? Would he find that his wishes were being suborned by a will not his own? And most disturbingly-would he even know it? His relatives gave no sign of being aware that their personalities were under assault. Either they didn't know, didn't care, or didn't remember. Or Zel was wrong.
Either way, Warian cared. Maybe he was stupid for not immediately taking the drastic step that would safeguard him from potential influence. Maybe he should chop off the arm and be done with it.
The trauma he'd experienced upon first losing his natural arm came and sat on his chest. Or, the influence that potentially controlled him tugged on those memories-what was free will? Bugger.
Warian turned onto his side, but his movement upset the balance of his pillow dolmen, and two pillows toppled to the floor.
"Damn it all!"
Warian sat up and looked to the porthole. Orange and pink hues highlighted the dark line of the horizon below. Dawn wasn't far off.
Warian rose from his bed and stood directly before the porthole. At least the view he had so admired last night had returned. Sometime toward morning, the ship had broken through the storm and ominous cloud cover. Now the sky-ship pressed ahead, just below fantastic masses of white and gray. Looking out the window, Warian felt like a minnow swimming in an unbounded ocean among leviathans of mist. A fluke thrash of any of these mythical swimmers could smash Stormsailer and send the debris flittering down into the sea.
Another sawing snore pierced through Warian's imagery. He reminded himself once again that Zel, as an apparent ally, probably shouldn't be choked awake.
* * * * *
The skyship reached Adama's Tooth right after dawn.
Warian watched from the upper deck as the flying craft made its approach. Zel remained in the cabin. With luck, no one would find the stowaway until after Warian and Sevaera disembarked. But Zel had other plans-he began preparing a disguise. Warian left him to his task.
Adama's Tooth was a nearly vertical natural monolith with deeply cleft, striated sides. Warian knew it rose at least two thousand feet above the meandering coastline of the Golden Water. Many stories circulated about Adama's Tooth-according to some accounts, the spire was not natural at all, but artificially raised by the effort of a great wizard, long dead, though Warian couldn't recall the supposed wizard's name.
The less civilized Durpari tribes of the region called the spire Dragon Lodge. In fact, it had been a sacred site of worship for many locals before the Datharathis had bought the rights to open a mine in the tower's side. Those same locals had launched a number of raids against the mine over the years. The first few times, the mining equipment, brought in at great expense, had been destroyed.
Datharathi Minerals learned its lesson, and radically increased security.
One of their first efforts was to cut off road traffic. Most access into and out of Adama's Tooth was changed to airship traffic. Gates and other security measures were installed along the slender, steep road that spiraled up the outer skin of Adama's Tooth.
Stormsailer made for the skydock set deep in one of the shadowy vertical canyons near the summit of the spire. The floating ship slid gracefully between the bulwarks of stone on either side, and halted in midair. A stone pier jutted from one side of the inner cleft, resembling half of an arched bridge. An overhang blocked direct