Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [77]
“Are we in the right place?” Faeril murmured. “I thought the baelnorn’s dwelling-”
“Hush!” Kestrel closed her eyes to focus her sense of hearing. Muffled noises came from more than one place on the other side of the doors. A muted voice, the scrape of a chair, several low chuckles. She signaled to the others to remain still-and silent-while she investigated. Then she crept up to the doors and peered through the keyhole.
Her vantage point offered only a limited view of the room beyond. Flickering torchlight cast shadows on the walls-two figures standing, more sprawled in chairs around a table. She strained for a better view, but she could not see the people casting the shadows. From the relative size of the shadows, she guessed the erect pair to be closer than the seated individuals. She could hear them, male voices speaking in low tones.
“Still no word from Forgred’s men, Lieutenant?”
“No, Captain.”
“Or Gashet? Rubal?”
“No, sir…She will not be pleased.”
“Hrmph. She must learn patience.”
Suddenly, a crackling sound rent the air. A gate, like the one that had transported the party to Myth Drannor, appeared in Kestrel’s line of sight. It pulsed and snapped with light and energy. A bright flash lit the room. Then, just as suddenly, the gate disappeared.
Kya Mordrayn had arrived.
Kestrel stifled a gasp. The archmage appeared even more formidable in person than she had in the scrying mirror. She was a tall woman, approaching six feet, and her boots and upswept hair made her seem at least a foot taller. A stiff collar anchored two red leather shoulder pieces that extended like dragon wings on either side of her head. At her waist hung a pair of black metal gloves, with white symbols of an open skeletal mouth on each palm. The Gauntlets of Moander.
Mordrayn’s monstrous right arm hung past her knee-until she raised it to point at one of the speakers who had fallen silent at her entrance.
What news, Mage Captain? As in the scrying mirror, Mordrayn did not open her mouth to speak. Her voice seemed to simply fill the minds of those who listened.
“The baelnorn remains locked away in the next room, Mistress. No one has entered.”
The archmage nodded approvingly. That is well. And the intruders?
“We have not found them yet. But-”
Her brows drew together. I grow tired of excuses. The fingers of Mordrayn’s human hand moved ever so slightly. The captain screamed as a blaze of light filled the room. The smell of burning flesh drifted through the keyhole, accompanied by a sickening sizzling sound.
Unable to see the captain, Kestrel kept her gaze on Mordrayn. As her servant shrieked in pain, the archmage remained stoic, even bored. When the screams ceased and the flames died out, one upright shadow remained on the wall. The seated figures appeared smaller, as if trying to sink into their chairs.
Mordrayn shifted her gaze to encompass the remaining officer. You command now.
“Yes, Mistress.” The figure bowed his head, then raised it quickly. “Mistress-an idea.”
The archmage had turned as if to leave but spun around at her servant’s entreaty. She arched an eyebrow. Speak quickly.
“With your permission, I will unlock the doors.”
The archmage gasped aloud. Unlock them?
“Yes… and be ready.”
Mordrayn stared at her new commander a long time, flexing her talons as she pondered his proposal. Not a sound broke the stillness. Finally, she nodded in assent. Plan wisely. Use the drow slaves as you see fit. And if you fail, pray that they kill you…
The magical gate reappeared. A moment later, the archmage was gone.
Immediately, the commander spun to face the seated figures. “Get up, you maggots! Get moving! You-get everyone in here…”
Kestrel backed away from the doors and returned to the others. “We’ve found the baelnorn-the cult is holding him captive here.” As she described the scene she’d just witnessed, the sound of an enormous bolt sliding back indicated that the doors now indeed