Lady of Poison_ The Priests - Bruce R. Cordell [81]
A luminescence he had only half noted earlier was growing stronger as he approached. It had a pale, green, washed out look to it, as if the light were somehow weary. Its light was stronger than the radiance provide by his hooded lantern.
"That's worrying," he said aloud to Ash. The light was the first he'd seen since entering Under-Tharos. He wondered if something had awakened ahead of him.
He turned to the girl. "You know, maybe we ought to reconsider our path, eh? I wonder if I just ran for the surface now…"
Without warning, the pain in Fallon's head spiked. He cried aloud, clutching at his head, stumbling, sending his lantern tumbling. It was like a fire raged behind his eyes. His mind was on fire. He could feel his will to resist, his personality, his very essence begin to smolder in metaphorical heat.
He grunted, squeezing his forehead all the harder, trying to wring the pain away. The pain redoubled. The realization struck Fallon that the impetus implanted by the Rotting Man was more than mere direction; it was a malicious presence intent on hollowing him out from the inside, leaving a physical husk, a husk capable of accomplishing only tasks set for it by the Talontyr.
"No, leave me my mind!" he screamed, but as relentlessly as the tide receding, his personality crumbled under the repeated hammer strikes from within.
Memories of his upbringing at the hands of his kind sires flared and died. His time spent in training as a hunter under the cool green leaves crumbled. His brief love for an elven maid of surpassing beauty was stripped from him. What had she told him? "Oh, but for the piece of my heart you have stolen with your tender kisses…" No, it was gone; he couldn't remember. Weeping at his loss, the knowledge even that his memory was crumbling began to flame and wither. His first contacts by Anammelech, who seemed so innocent at first, and all his later betrayals spi-raled into darkness. Everything was taking on a burning redness where there was no room any longer for what had once called itself Fallon.
Then came something new.
Amidst the scarlet flames, a point of pure white light glimmered. With the white light came surcease from the agony and a foothold against the erosion of Fallon's mind. The white light grew, faster and faster, and where it touched the pain was extinguished. Fallon felt his personality shuffling back from the precipice to which it had been forced. Finally, the attack ceased, and with it the pain broke. The compulsion was defeated.
There was Ash, standing closer than she had before. The girl rested the back of her hand lightly against Fallon's forehead. Then she pulled back, a glimmer of interest in her eyes gradually dulling back to their customary somnolence.
The child's touch had saved him.
When his strength was recovered, Fallon considered his options. The pain was completely gone. His mind was made whole again. In the aftermath of the Rotting Man's treachery and in the face of his salvation at Ash's intercession, the elf decided it was time to think about his future.
He would abandon his instructions from the Rotting Man. He would reverse himself, despite all the steps he'd taken, each step stretching back in tiny increments, in sum sufficient to propel him to where he sat, back propped up against some forgotten Nar tomb, the child he had kidnapped sitting nearby, and a foul green light from the corridor ahead painting everything a sickening shade.
What could be the consequence of one more bond broken when he had already severed his loyalty to the noble Nentyarch? Fear of the Rotting Man's displeasure couldn't be discounted, but Fallon had a hard time imagining what the Rotting Man could do to him that was worse than what had just been attempted. Losing himself was more than the elf could bear. The Rotting Man had miscalculated, or more likely, the Rotting Man hadn't known that the child had the capacity to neutralize his foul power.
Where could he go now? He couldn't go back through the hallways and dark passages