Lady of Poison_ The Priests - Bruce R. Cordell [73]
A new voice spoke then, with a pleasant, even seductive female timbre. The voice said, "Are these the ones who disturbed our sleep?"
"No," spoke the original brumal demon. "Gone. Toward the center. Tramping and knocking, waking the sleepers. One elf, one child hiding power."
The woman's voice spoke again. Marrec knew it was coming from the dreadful blot caught in the ice. The voice had a cloying, thick quality beneath its velvet surface that made him shiver. "These follow after, eh? Well, speak up, followers. If my offspring were intent on freezing you into our collection, they'd have done so already, don't you think?"
Marrec inadvertently glanced down and saw a human woman's face and hand clutching a bow. He shook his head and said, "We do follow after. We seek a betrayer and have no interest in conflict with you, your kind majesty."
The woman's voice laughed. "Majesty, is it? I was old before your civilization was born. I am she whose name is unremembered. I served those of such power that they thought they could challenge the power of gods, but they are crumbled away now/while I remain, trapped. I must abide here until I can find the token of my freedom, but," she paused, "you may continue to address me as majesty. It pleases me."
The darkness roiled, as if beginning a slow boil. Its movements sometimes synched up with the speech, other times not. Marrec backed off from the ice wall a pace, but he was blocked from moving too far by the dark icy carapaces of the crowding demons. He noticed that his friends seemed equally crowded. The smell of decay was quickly growing intolerable.
"Then, your majesty, please allows us to continue," requested Marrec, his breath steaming out before him.
"Though you may be surprised to learn it, I will indeed allow you to leave this chamber," purred the voice.
One of the gathered demons tittered as if at a joke only it had heard.
"But?" guessed Marrec, sensing something still unspoken.
"But," continued the voice, "I'm afraid I can't let you go free, can I? There is a condition that I must impose. You'll accept that condition, won't you, my fierce pet?"
Marrec locked eyes with Gunggari. Marrec raised one eyebrow; Gunggari shrugged, shaking his head. These motions required only a second, but a question was asked and answered: Marrec asked the Oslander what he thought their chances were in a fight against the creatures. Gunggari responded that he couldn't gauge the outcome.
The cleric had some experience in gauging the power and threat of supernatural entities. His sense of the queen's power and level of abilities warned him that to fight the demon there, in the area that she infested and controlled so thoroughly, would prove a suicidal task.
Marrec spoke aloud, "Tell us your condition. We won't agree to it before you specify what you expect from us. If you're willing to negotiate in the first place, we must have something you need."
The voice was silent for a few moments. The icy creatures crowding Marrec and the others shifted their weight ominously.
The Queen Abiding finally intoned, "This is the condition on which I'll allow you to depart alive and without harm: find for me the token of my freedom and pledge to return it to me here."
"What's that?"
"It is the only remaining wall, spiritually speaking, that keeps me bound herein."
Marrec stalled, "We wouldn't know where to begin to search."
"I'll tell you exactly where it is. It lies here, in the ruins of Under-Tharos. Those frail-brained Nentyarchs squatted on it along with all the other leashes and tokens that bind us who remain locked in darkness. My children tell me that the last Nentyarch has fled, and another has assumed control at the center."
"The Rotting Man," supplied Elowen.
"That's right, that's what you call him, don't you? Talona's lap dog. He visited much pain on me, all unknowing, when he found my token of control when he first arrived. I owe