Depths of Madness - Erik Scott De Bie [128]
Davoren Hellsheart allowed a tiny smile to play across his gray face. He could still hear the brute Gargan and the cruel Twilight shuffling, leaving the Depths of Madness behind them for the desert. Well, he was rid of them; they had served their purpose by destroying not one, but both of the Depths' former masters.
"I don't need them," he said to himself. "I don't need anyone."
Despite his faith in his lord Asmodeus-his confidence in success-Davoren was a bit relieved at the demise of both Gestal and Ruukthalmuramaxamin. He had thought for certain that he would have to challenge one ot the other-preferably Gestal, he had thought until he had seen the powers of chaos triumph over the sharn. But the murderess and her thrall had secured for him a victory beyond his expectations. Somehow, he convinced himself that it had been his victory-that he'd manipulated them. He had won the spoils, had he not? This dungeon-the Depths.
As for Twilight and Gargan, he hoped the desert would kill them-he did not relish facing either again. Not because they could beat him-oh no-but because he hated them both so much.
"They are weak," he assured himself. He did not need them. "Let them die if they will. They shall not return." He had other concerns.
Asmodeus demanded power, influence, and worship, and he intended to give the devil lord all that and more. His first sacrifices would be the servitors of Demogorgon that had survived
Lord Gestal's fall-the lizardmen. Then he would enslave the golems that had survived the sharn. They would make excellent servants. The grimlocks, as well, even if they did not understand order. As for the abeil-sacrifices.
And by the time he used up all the eligible sacrifices, Davoren intended to have reasoned out the magical operation of the portals that led into this place. Why waste good slaves when innocent, naive, goodly treasure hunters could so easily be had?
They deserved this. They all did, for what they and their kind had done to him.
"M-M-Master?" an echoing voice came from the shaft.
The troll had pulled himself together sufficiently to speak, though Davoren found that unpleasant. Soon enough, Tlork would be whining for food.
Davoren thought. Food was not a small matter. He was not about to stoop to the sludge the lizardfolk ate. The abeil, he doubted, would do any better. But Gestal had survived in this place, so there had to be some source of food and water. Davoren hoped he would not be forced into cannibalism. That turned his stomach. Perhaps the strange mushrooms he had glimpsed deeper in the city, with Twilight…
Davoren winced. Twilight. His groin still ached where she had kneed him.
How cruel she had been. She'd always thought herself better than him, never recognizing his talents, never even admitting his usefulness. Instead, she'd used him, like the spiteful bitch she was. And there had been nothing he could do about it. Nothing.
They would have laughed at him. All of them. His mother, his sisters, the other children, but Davoren didn't fear that. He'd made sure they would never laugh again. AH of them. The stilettos he carried in his gauntlets still smelled of that blood-the one he had left, anyway. The other…
"Come to think of it," the warlock mused, "what happened to that knife? Shouldn't leave something like that lying around where…"
Then it occurred to him. Davoren had always possessed a quick and powerful mind, and it was a credit to the depth of this mystery that he hadn't reasoned it out.
It all made sense to him then, following a single key: Twilight's Shroud.
If Liet had been Gestal, it would have been a simple matter to arrange ambushes as they walked, but Gestal had vanished when the sham's forces attacked-surely escaped to await Ruukthalmuramaxamin's next move. But if he had been gone, how had Gestal known when and where Twilight approached from the Depths to challenge him?
He could not have scried Twilight through her amulet. How had he still followed their every move after "Liet" had disappeared?
For that matter, how had he defeated Slip's