Prince of Lies - James Lowder [134]
"I can't take this, Vrakk," Rinda said.
The orc grunted. "Monsters don't wear medals." Stiffly he turned to watch the carnage.
Rinda scooped up the medallion, the Special Order of theGolden Way, granted only to the victorious generals of Azoun's crusade against the Tuigan. "I'll keep it safe for you," the scribe said, then hurried from the tower.
As she began her long, lonely journey south, Rinda said a silent prayer that all the Zhentish dragged into depravity by Cyric's schemes – human and orc alike – might find their way back to civilization. Though the diamond holy symbol she wore made it impossible for Oghma to hear that wish, she knew the God of Knowledge would answer it, if he could. Until that wish came true, Rinda would find the strength to safeguard the Cyrinishad, to prevent the madness it contained from spreading beyond the ruined walls of Zhentil Keep.
XIX
NIGHTMARES
Wherein Gwydion the Quick faces the
unremembered terrors of his mortal life,
Kelemvor's prison undergoes some unwelcome
alterations, and Cyric pays the price for
trying to remake the world in his image.
Gwydion stood on the brink of Dendar's cave. Orange steam swirled around him like some manifestation of the suffering that had settled over the City ofStrifeduring the uprising. Animate fragments of denizens and shades lay everywhere, twitching, crawling, crying out. The heart of the battle raged nearby, at the gate toBoneCastle. Angry shouts and panicked orders echoed from the diamond walls, lingering over the River Slith and the field of rubble beyond. The noise drowned out the hiss of the Night Serpent's breathing as she slept in her vast lair, contentedly gorged on the world's unremembered nightmares.
"Mistress Dendar!" Gwydion shouted. He stepped closer to the first line of mammoth stalagmites. Tiny, lurking things scurried between the stones and watched him with hungry curiosity.
"Go away," came a voice heavy with disdain, thick with sleep. "As I told the other lackeys: the prince must fight his own battles. My answer is final."
"I'm not here to get you to rescue Cyric," Gwydion called. He fought to keep the fear from his voice, to still the trembling of his gauntleted hands. "I want you to help us overthrow him."
Dendar shifted on her bed of bones. Two eyes, large and sickly yellow, appeared in the cave's gloom. "Overthrow him?" she asked. "Why should I ever want to do that?" Her slitted pupils narrowed as she moved closer to the cave's mouth, and her forked tongue tested the air. "Ah, Gwydion. I never expected to see you here again – and girded like a knight. Well, well…"
"Help us now, and the gods will be fair to you hereafter."
"Fair to me?" the serpent scoffed, bloody fangs glistening. "Come now, spiritling. I was here before the gods, and it's my place to harbinger the end of it all – the world, the universe, all of that and the gods, too. The pantheon can have no hold over me." She yawned. "Now leave me be. It's hard enough to rest with all that clatter and crash going on."
"No," Gwydion said. The steel edging the word surprised even him. "The siege ofBoneCastlemust end quickly, before the suffering here grows any greater. All I ask is for you to release some of the nightmares you've hoarded. Let them free to drive the denizens away from the walls."
"Now you're being ridiculous," Dendar hissed, her sibilant voice filled with malice. "What do I care for the suffering of the dead?"
Gwydion raised Titanslayer high over his head. "I'll take them if I must"
Ever so slowly, the Night Serpent turned her head until one eye hung over Gwydion like a full moon. "I'm no fairy tale dragon to be threatened by that pin you carry. You insult me by thinking so."
The warning in Dendar's words rang clear to Gwydion, as did the unspoken demand for an apology. Yet he did not lower his blade, did not retreat a step from the lair's threshold. Something inside him wouldn't allow it. Instead, Gwydion lashed out with Titanslayer,