Lady of Poison_ The Priests - Bruce R. Cordell [90]
He nearly tripped when Justlance finally, tardily, materialized in his grip. Good, he needed the light that still radiated from its tip.
Marrec couldn't decide how many full circuits he'd made, each one smaller than the last, but he guessed about nine, when he came to the inmost chamber.
Also dome shaped, rising to a height of at least twenty feet, the chamber was mostly empty.
Nine pedestals graced the periphery of the circular room. The pedestals, equidistantly spaced, stood at the edges of a nine-pointed star inscribed in red across the floor. Most of the pedestals were empty, though each contained a hollow concavity, apparently sized to accept strangely shaped amulets, tools, or other implements that Marrec didn't want to spend time attempting to imagine.
Five of the pedestals contained items, though to the cleric's unpracticed eye it seemed that only one of those items was actually the object meant to be housed; none of the other objects fit its particular hollow, shelf, or hangar so snugly. It was a night black cloak, so dark that it seemed a void, which was draped across a perfectly shaped hangar.
The other four items included a dagger made from a red talon, an orb of hazy green set in a golden ring, a sword seemingly forged of pale bone, and a chunk of white, translucent crystal in which something dark was caught.
What had the Queen Abiding said? "You'll know it when you see it" or some such.
He sprinted across the floor to the pedestal holding the crystal chunk. Hefting it, his fingers were immediately chilled, and condensation formed, dripping off his hand He gazed into the object, studying that which was caught within. Marrec's eyes couldn't seem to focus on it First a smear, then some great winged thing it seemed, then a wriggling worm, then back to a dark imperfection.
The crystal had to be it. He clutched it close. Marrec's eyes fell across the other items stored in the chamber, obviously precious bits gathered by Eschar. He suspected that all were tainted by association with the failed Nar race. Look what came of them for their congress with demons, he thought. With his single prize, he dashed from the room.
The cleric made to retrace his route, circling outward, but leaving the room immediately spit him into the great cavern. He stood before the open mouth of the dome at the center of the Sighing Vault a little off balance; Marrec's body thought it should be racing around in wider circles, as it had on entering the dome.
His eyes were filled with the form of Eschar, who was upon him.
Fallon nearly stumbled, his foot catching across the lintel of the dark room into which he pulled himself and Ash. He had a sense that something was following behind him. Too far to see and hear directly, but the elf could sense something closing on him. He hadn't heard or smelled anything specific or seen a betraying light, but a mixture of subtle clues colluded. The sum of those clues was inescapable, though he knew most people would never know they had become quarry until too late. His sense was accurate enough for him to discern that that which hunted him was not the group sent out by the Nentyarch that had trailed him earlier through that thoroughly inexplicable extradimensional space. Fallon's pursuer was something far more implacable.
After all, despite his betrayal of the Nentyarch, he was a hunter trained by the Circle of
Leth. His skills were considerable in their own right, even though their use was no longer sanctioned. Oh well, time for yet more unsanctioned activity, he decided.
Fallon adjusted the shade on his hooded lantern to a wider aperture, allowing the finger-thin gleam of light to widen to a cone of amber radiance. His elven eyes, sensitive