Prince of Lies - James Lowder [102]
"Ah, but now you have two allies to help you," Mask said.
"Who said anything about me allying with you?" Mystra snapped.
"If you want Kelemvor back, you should consider joining our little conspiracy," Mask rumbled.
Sparkscrackled from Mystra's eyes. "Threats, Mask? You're already resorting to threats?"
"Cyric has the means to find Kelemvor," Oghma noted darkly. The incarnation of the Binder that had confronted Cyric arrived in Shadow Keep at that moment. The other gods did not see the two fragments merge, but they did notice the book suddenly appear in Oghma's hands. "This tome belonged to Gargauth. There's a spell here that will allow Cyric to find any object, no matter how many gods try to shield it from him."
"And he's seen this?" Mask asked, concern leaching the glee from his voice.
"Just now. He left my throne room a short time ago."
"Let me see the spell," Mystra said. She stalked to Oghma's side.
The God of Knowledge carefully opened the book for Mystra. She scanned the page, gleaning the magical contents far faster than Cyric had.
"It'll take days for his faithful to prepare all the necessary sacrifices," Mystra noted. "And the final enchantment will require a huge burst of energy. Cyric will need to whip his worshipers into a frenzy for that."
Mask rubbed his hands together nervously. "All of them?"
"No, the populace of one large city would do."
"Zhentil Keep," Mask said. "He's spent so much time and energy trying to unite the place under his church, he's bound to use them for this." He paused, shocked at the clarity of the plan unfolding in the twisted alleys of his mind. "We have him. His reign is over…"
Mask slipped out of his chair. His cloak of darkness floated around him as he moved toward the God of Knowledge. "Is your book near completion, Binder?"
"Any day now."
"Cyric will likely organize a rally of some kind, a gathering to focus the Keep's worship." Mask leveled a finger at the God of Knowledge. "You need to get the book finished before that happens – as close to the event as possible."
That will only delay him," Mystra scoffed. "Even if we destroy his church in Zhentil Keep, he'll move on to another city, another group of fanatics."
"Ah, but undermining the Keep is only half the plan," Mask purred. "If Binder's book can turn a huge number of worshipers against Cyric, all at once, he'll be vulnerable. If a revolt should happen to start in the City ofStrifeat the same time…"
"You're mad," Oghma snapped, closing the book with more force than he would have liked. The ancient binding cracked, and flakes of parchment puffed into the air. "If the Realm of the Dead revolts and Cyric is overthrown, the mortal realms will be driven into chaos."
"Unless a new Lord of the Dead arrives to take control ofBoneCastlebefore the chaos spreads," the Shadowlord corrected. "I'm certain Godsbane would invite me in to help put down the unruly denizens – after Cyric is overthrown, of course."
"Why should we help you take Cyric's crown?" Mystra asked.
"Because I'm not nearly so mad as the Prince of Lies," Mask replied flatly. "Because both of you need to stop Cyric very soon, before he finds Kelemvor's soul or finishes his Cyrinishad. I'm offering you a clear plan, which has a very good chance of succeeding. Can either of you improve upon it?"
Mystra returned to pacing before the fire. The low-burning flames cast huge shadow-images of the goddess on the opposite wall. "We'll need someone to lead the revolt," she said after a time. "What about the inquisitors?"
"Ready-made revolutionaries," Mask said wryly. "From the look of that armor, I'll bet the souls pinned inside will be sporting quite a grudge against Cyric. The trick will be countermanding the orders they were given."
"The inquisitors?" Oghma asked. "But you destroyed them."
"Appeared to destroy them," Mystra corrected. "I didn't want to annihilate the poor shades