Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [47]
“In exchange for their mortal lives,” Volun continued, “the dragons gain additional powers in their new undead state. They also win the cult’s promise to help elevate them to world domination.” The scene showed the archmage touching the diamond, uttering a few words, then touching the dragon’s skeletal remains. The glow disappeared from the diamond as the dragon corpse jerked violently and rose, red flames flickering in its empty eye sockets.
Kestrel shuddered as the image faded away. She’d known the cult sorcerers were evil, but this kind of diabolical magic went beyond her comprehension. It made Caalenfaire and his familiar look downright approachable.
Well, not quite. As soon as she could politely do so, she backed away from the diviner’s throne. “So this Kya Mordrayn person-she runs the whole cult?”
“The cult operates in cells,” Volun said, “pockets of followers scattered throughout the continent of Faerыn. While each cell has its own leadership, the cult as a whole has no central power structure. The individual cells are too fractious to get along with each other. Such an organization necessarily attracts the unbalanced and power-hungry. Mordrayn is the archmage of a single, but strong, cell.”
“And she’s helping Pelendralaar amass enough power to take over the world?” Corran asked. “That’s rather ambitious, isn’t it? Even for a fanatic.”
“She has unraveled the great Weave.” Caalenfaire’s voice held a disturbing note of resignation.
“Mordrayn and Pelendralaar use the powerful magic of the Mythal to advance their goals,” Volun said. “With such strong sorcery to aid them, Master fears they may actually succeed.”
The diviner passed a hand over his scrying bowl, frowning. “Poison has reached the heart.”
“Master Caalenfaire senses great evil deep within Castle Cormanthor. We believe this evil, whatever it is, helped contaminate the Mythal. Cleanse the Mythal and defeat the cult, and you might have a chance at destroying the evil that has overtaken the castle.”
Kestrel stifled a groan. Cleanse the Mythal and defeat a bunch of insane cultists-as if doing so were as easy as picking a fat nobleman’s pocket.
“Something troubles the little bird,” Caalenfaire said.
Kestrel wished he would stop calling her that, but she wasn’t about to tell him so. “This whole mission troubles me. ‘Cleanse the Mythal.’ ‘Seize the power of the Mythal.’ How are we supposed to take control of something we can’t see or touch?”
Caalenfaire consulted his bowl once more. “The Path dims now. It twists.” His voice seemed to span a great distance, not just the boundary of death but the march of time. “Still, the signs are clear. You must get up from under. Beyond the Circle, find Harldain Ironbar. You can enter his tower in the House of Gems only from the surface. Harldain is your ally. Heed well his counsel.”
Volun’s voice also seemed to be fading from the present. “To reach the Heights, you must unseal the Circle of Mythanthor. You have seen it-a great golden circle in the floor, in the uppermost part of the dungeons. You need the Ring of Calling to unseal the Circle. Master, look into your bowl. Can it tell you where the Ring of Calling lies?”
“I am looking. It is unclear. They are Veiled Ones now, and their shadow darkens anything they might touch or any place they might go. There are many possibilities. The Tulun Wall… the Corridor of Salg… but first they should try the Room of Words in the Onaglym. Yes! But look-Resheshannen!”
“Master has spoken the Word of Oblivion. When you find the ring, use this word to release it from its once-proud bones. Wear the ring while standing in the Circle.”
Ghleanna bowed. “We thank you, Master Caalenfaire and Volun. You have