Prince of Lies - James Lowder [56]
Then you are indeed one to be reckoned with," Kezef rumbled. Chains clanked as the Chaos Hound leaned forward. He sniffed twice then paused. "Can that little blade of yours cast any more light? I would see your face, slayer of Myrkul."
Without magic, Cyric couldn't conjure a light, but revealing that to the beast would be a mistake. There was another solution, though, and his multifaceted mind found it even before Kezef had stopped speaking. Cyric turned and hacked a corpse-sized piece from the prison wall. Slowly he held the quivering sheet of energy so that its radiant side illuminated his gruesome, seared features.
"You are not what I would have expected," Kezef murmured.
Cyric dropped the sheet of weave-stuff to the ground and kicked it toward the Chaos Hound. It didn't slide far enough to reveal the creature's form, though, only glimmer faintly in Kezef's red eyes.
"Push it closer," the Hound said. "We cannot deal as equals until our true forms are revealed…"
As Cyric moved toward the glowing fragment, Kezef lunged. The Prince of Lies saw only a blur of darkness move across the rough patch of light, heard only a vicious snarl and the clatter of ancient chains. With reactions far faster than any mortal, he brought Godsbane up in a powerful slash. The sword struck something pulpy, and a wave of dark liquid washed over his sword arm. The ooze clung to him in blotches, burning like molten copper.
The howl of the Chaos Hound was matched by the pained shriek of Godsbane in Cyric's mind.
"Is this how you prove your cunning?" the Prince of Lies hissed. "No wonder the gods imprisoned you so easily. Only a fool turns on an ally when he has nothing to gain by doing so."
"I would have been more of a fool to bargain with you without knowing your strength," Kezef rumbled. "Yet you must be all you say, murderer of Bhaal, for none but a god could stay my jaws." Narrowing his eyes, the Chaos Hound moved into the light.
Kezef resembled a huge mastiff, as large as any draft horse Cyric had seen in the streets of Zhentil Keep. Teeming maggots were his fur, the coat shifting incessantly over barely covered sinews and bones. His pointed teeth glittered like daggers of jet in the sorcerous light. A tongue oozing tatters of corruption lolled to the Hound's chin, poisonous spittle dripping in sizzling drops to the ground. The wound from Cyric's blow festered across Kezef's snout, but even as the Prince of Lies watched, the putrefied liquid flesh closed over the slash.
A short length of sturdy chain, forged by the Wonderbringer himself, held the beast in place. The links clattered sullenly as Kezef settled onto his haunches and looked the Prince of Lies in the face. "What dark task would you have me complete?"
"The bards of Faerun say you can track anything, no matter where it travels in the realms of men or gods."
Kezef's panted breath held a sick, charnel stench as he leaned closer to Cyric. "For once, the bards speak the truth. No living creature can hide from me, once I have picked up its trail."
Cyric held Godsbane up before him, silently warning Kezef to move no closer. "Then I would have you seek the soul of a mortal."
"And when I have that shade in my teeth?" the Hound rumbled balefully. "Do you think to imprison me again?"
"Bring me the soul of Kelemvor Lyonsbane. Then you are free to do as you will," Cyric replied.
The Chaos Hound survives by raiding the planes, Godsbane warned, her voice shrill with fear. He preys on the Faithful, my love. The denizens of your realm will taste as sweet to him as any other.
"What about your minions?" the Hound asked, mirroring the blade's question as if he could hear it. "Do you not care if your denizens put flesh on these bones along with the peons of Tyr or Ilmater?"
Cyric dismissed the questions with a derisive snort. "There are many heavens more easily stormed than the City ofStrife," he said. "You have no taste for the Faithless who make up the wall, and my denizens are better armed and much more vicious than the devoted