Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [156]
Yes! A deep sense of thankfulness and relief flooded his pain-racked body. He could see jewels sparkling in the distance, shining in the blackness with a light it seemed even this heavy darkness could not quench.
It was just a short distance ahead of them, not more than a hundred feet. Relaxing his grip on Berem, Caramon thought, Perhaps this is a way out, for me, at least. Let Berem join this ghostly sister of his. All I want is a way out, a way to get back to Tika and Tas.
His confidence returning, Caramon strode forward. A matter of minutes and it would be over … for good … or for …
“Shirak,” spoke a voice.
A bright light flared.
Caramon’s heart ceased to beat for an instant. Slowly, slowly he lifted his head to look into that bright light, and there he saw two golden, glittering, hourglass eyes staring at him from the depths of a black hood.
The breath left his body in a sigh that was like the sigh of a dying man.
The blaring trumpets ceased, a measure of calm returned to the Hall of Audience. Once more, the eyes of everyone in the Hall—including the Dark Queen—turned to the drama on the platform.
Gripping the Crown in his hand, Tanis rose to his feet. He had no idea what the horn calls portended, what doom might be about to fall. He only knew that he must play the game out to its end, bitter as that may be.
Laurana … she was his one thought. Wherever Berem and Caramon and the others were, they were beyond his help. Tanis’s eyes fixed on the silver-armored figure standing on the snake-headed platform below him. Almost by accident, his gaze flicked to Kitiara, standing beside Laurana, her face hidden behind the hideous dragonmask. She made a gesture.
Tanis felt more than heard movement behind him, like a chill wind brushing his skin. Whirling, he saw Lord Soth coming toward him, death burning in the orange eyes.
Tanis backed up, the Crown in his hand, knowing he could not fight this opponent from beyond the grave.
“Stop!” he shouted, holding the Crown poised above the floor of the Hall of Audience. “Stop him, Kitiara, or with my last dying strength I will hurl this into the crowd.”
Soth laughed soundlessly, advancing upon him, the skeletal hand that could kill by a touch alone outstretched.
“What ‘dying strength’?” the death knight asked softly. “My magic will shrivel your body to dust, the Crown will fall at my feet.”
“Lord Soth,” rang out a clear voice from the platform from the center of the Hall, “halt. Let him who won the Crown bring it to me!”
Soth hesitated. His hand still reaching for Tanis, his flaming eyes turned their vacant gaze upon Kitiara, questioning.
Removing the dragonhelm from her head, Kitiara looked only at Tanis. He could see her brown eyes gleaming and her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“You will bring me the Crown, won’t you, Tanis?” Kitiara called.
Tanis swallowed. “Yes,” he said, licking his dry lips, “I will bring you the Crown.”
“My guards!” Kitiara ordered, waving them forward. “An escort. Anyone who touches him will die by my hand. Lord Soth, see that he reaches me safely.”
Tanis glanced at Lord Soth, who slowly lowered his deadly hand. “He is your master, still, my lady,” Tanis thought he heard the death knight whisper with a sneer.
Then Soth fell into step beside him, the ghostly chill emanating from the knight nearly congealing Tanis’s blood. Together they descended the stairs, an odd pair—the pallid knight in the blackened armor, the half-elf clutching the blood-stained Crown in his hand.
Ariakas’s officers, who had been standing at the foot of the stairs, weapons drawn, fell back, some reluctantly. As Tanis reached the marble floor and passed by them, many gave him black looks. He saw the flash of a dagger in one hand, an unspoken promise in the dark eyes.
Their own swords drawn, Kitiara’s guards fell in around him, but it was Lord Soth’s deathly aura that obtained safe passage for him through the crowded floor. Tanis began to sweat beneath his armor. So this is power, he realized. Whoever has the Crown, rules, but that could all end in the dead