Fistandantilus Reborn - Douglas Niles [118]
Danyal watched the shimmering window take firmer shape in the air.
“Hold!” cried the skeletal Fistandantilus. Abruptly the grotesque personage vanished, reappearing directly before his counterpart. Kelryn Darewind stepped after it, forming the third point of a triangle.
“I remember!” It was Emilo Haversack who spoke, his voice a whisper of wonder. “I recall everything that happened to me. It started with the skull, a very, very long time ago. I saw it there, in the darkness… The dwarf struck me with it, and my memories were gone.”
He looked at Dan, his eyes wide with awe and dawning understanding.
“That’s where my sickness came from-and it took away my memories, too! My life, my whole past! But now they’ve come back!”
Emilo skipped a little step, as if he were ready to break into a dance. “I come from Kendermore, and… and I remember a time before the Cataclysm! And… and I thank you all for helping me, for keeping me alive, for letting me get better!”
“You saved us, too, if you don’t remember,” Danyal replied.
The kender scowled. “But that stone and skull-they shouldn’t be together, should they?”
“No, they shouldn’t!” Mirabeth wrapped the kender in a hug as Danyal continued to watch the two magic-users and their prophet. Kelryn was raving, his voice shrill as he made demands of first one, then the other Fistandantilus.
And all the time the bloodstone lay on the floor, pulsing in time with the flaring image of that green-framed window. The mysterious portal whirled in the air, still suspended above the silver hourglass.
“The power was mine-the bloodstone belongs to me!” Kelryn’s voice was shrill but futile.
“You are mine!” the lich declared in a voice like the wind from a newly opened crypt, finally turning to regard the bandit lord with its flaring, horrifying eyes. “For too long you have used my talisman as your toy, playing your role as a priest. My strength sustained you, and now you will sustain me!”
Kelryn recoiled, his face draining of color under the inspection of the ghastly undead mage.
“His life belongs to me!” the other wizard interjected. “It was my essence that held back the effects of age, that allowed him to survive for so long.”
Each of the black-robed figures took one of the bandit’s arms. Light seared the air, a sizzling aura that outlined the twisting, writhing figure in cold brightness. Danyal, watching in awe, saw the illumination as power, and he observed the power divided.
The essence of Kelryn Darewind’s life was sucked from his body as the bandit lord writhed and screamed in unspeakable agony. He weakened quickly, moaning, slumping between the two mighty sorcerers. Vitality faded from the man’s eyes, and Dan could almost see the warmth of his blood being pulled from his flesh, flowing in equal portions into the two versions of the black-robed archmage.
Finally the sorcerers released the clawlike hands of their shriveled victim, and Kelryn Darewind crumpled to the ground, the shell of his skin drained of blood, of vitality and life. The corpse lay motionless on the floor while the two images of Fistandantilus stood trembling under the onslaught of renewed life and restored power.
A web of green light flared, sparking and firing between the two archmages. Tendrils of ghostly power connected into a glowing net of supernatural, sinister force.
“Together-they’ve absorbed him together!” Foryth Teel whispered, awed.
“What does it mean? What will happen?” Danyal asked.
“I don’t know, but see: Neither archmage can break away from his counterpart. I think that whichever one prevails will either be very powerful, so much so that he becomes in fact invulnerable, or he will be doomed.”
The mountain itself trembled under the onslaught of barely contained power. Pieces of rock broke from the ceiling, tumbling down to shatter on the floor. Sharp-edged shards of stone flew here and there, several whizzing past dangerously close, but Danyal’s attention was rapt, still focused on the two wizards. They strained visibly to tear themselves apart, but with the violence of the