Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [95]
The cleric uttered a prayer-spell asking Mystra to heal Athan’s gangrenous legs and lacerated back. “‘Tis best to leave him unconscious until I can alleviate some of his pain,” she explained to Ghleanna. When the decay was gone and the bone fragments fused, she beseeched the goddess to mend the other breaks in his leg and hand. Finally, she entreated Mystra to heal the warrior’s head injury.
Athan’s eyes fluttered open. He warily regarded the unfamiliar faces surrounding him until his gaze rested on the sorceress. “Ghleanna,” he whispered.
She took his good hand in hers and pressed it to her wet cheek. “Brother.”
Despite Faeril’s care, Athan remained weak. The sight of his sister, however, appeared to hearten him beyond anything the cleric could do. His blue eyes quickly lost their glassiness, and the lines pain etched in his face seemed to fade as the minutes passed. After Ghleanna made introductions, he asked how she and the rest of the party had found him.
“Happenstance,” she admitted. “Though I prayed you might still live, we had no way of knowing for sure.”
He encompassed them all with his gaze. “I thank the gods you arrived when you did. After my last beating, I might never have awakened.” He tried to rise but winced and settled back down against Ghleanna.
“Your ribs are broken,” Faeril said. “I shall have to bind them, for your other injuries exhausted my healing powers. We’ll also have to splint that arm.” She opened a small pack and withdrew several rolled-up strips of cloth. “Kestrel, cut me several one-foot lengths from this roll.” Corran, meanwhile, scouted around for some stray pieces of wood.
“The Cult of the Dragon has perfected the art of torture.” Athan studied his right hand, flexing his fingers as if amazed to see them work once more. “You spend the first half of the interrogation afraid you’ll die, and the last half afraid you won’t.” He glanced up to catch a stricken look cross Ghleanna’s face. “You would have been proud, Lena-they never got a word out of me.”
Corran returned with an extinguished torch and Durwyn’s axe. He measured Athan’s forearm and chopped off the charred end of the torch to match its length. “What did they want to know?”
“At first, who had sent us and how much we knew about Mordrayn’s plans.” He inhaled sharply as Faeril grasped his injured arm and reset the broken bone. “Lately, though, all their questions have been about you folks. Of course, I had no answers to give them even if I wanted to-I didn’t even know my sister was among you. All I knew, I gleaned from my captors’ own questions. Your activities have agitated the whole cult.”
The news brought a grin to Kestrel’s lips. “Good. I hope we have Mordrayn’s drawers tied in knots.” She handed the lengths of cloth to Faeril and returned her dagger to its hidden sheath.
Athan’s face became deadly serious. “Do not underestimate Kya Mordrayn. She single-handedly controls the Mythal now through some sort of gem and uses the corrupted ancient magic to expand the Pool of Radiance.”
“Yes, we’ve seen evidence of the pool’s expansion.” Corran secured the torch shaft to Athan’s arm to form a makeshift splint. “Spawn pools are popping up in random cities outside Cormanthyr.”
“There’s nothing random about them,” Athan said. “Mordrayn and the dracolich are using the pool to drain the life force from key cities throughout the Realms. They intend to first gain control of the Heartlands’ main trading and port cities-Phlan, Mulmaster, Hillsfar, Zhentil Keep. Once they achieve a strong foothold, they plan to expand their domination until the whole continent falls under their power.”
When the splint was complete, Faeril and Ghleanna eased Athan into a sitting position so the cleric could bind his ribs. “If Mordrayn controls the Mythal and the Pool of Radiance, what does she need the dracolich for?” Kestrel