Prince of Lies - James Lowder [99]
Tucking Gargauth's journal beneath his arm, Oghma readied for his trip across the planes. He paused, though, and reconsidered the wisdom of tempting the Goddess of Magic with such dangerous knowledge; she'd proved capable of endangering the Balance in pursuit of Cyric. What might she do to save her lover?
Oghma sighed. The Lady of Mysteries was even now answering that question in the halls of Mask's hellish keep.
Despite the doubts gnawing at him, the God of Knowledge decided to bring the tome to her attention. After all, it wasn't his place to protect Mystra.
Especially from herself.
* * * * *
Oghma's second incarnation arrived at Shadow Keep in the same instant his first discovered Cyric lounging in his throne. The annoyance wrought by the death god's impertinence rippled across the Binder's entire being, casting a long shadow over the mood of all his myriad selves. Cyric's slight barely affected the incarnation waiting on the threshold of Mask's domain, though. His thoughts had been quite grim to begin with.
In the darkest part of Hades, far from the City ofStrife, sprawled the meandering slums of Shadow Keep. The city wandered far along the blasted plain, a place dedicated to thievery. The walls surrounding the keep weren't particularly high, the gates seemingly unguarded. Yet as Oghma stood beneath the main archway leading into the squalid alleys, awaiting one of Mask's heralds to grant him admittance, he knew the uncomfortable prickle of unseen eyes upon him. Had the Binder searched out the watchers, he could have spotted them, but that was too much like playing along with the games of deception and intrigue fostered here. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and resolutely stared straight ahead, out across the infinite wastes that separated Mask's domain from Cyric's.
After a time, the Shadowlord appeared before Oghma, Mystra at his side. "I'm not surprised to find you together," murmured the God of Knowledge.
Mask held out a gloved hand to Oghma, but the Binder kept his arms folded.
"You arrived sooner than I thought you would," the Lord of Shadows noted happily. "You even beat us here from the pavilion – well, we did have a package to drop off in Nirvana…"
"Both of you are fools," Oghma snapped. "Your juvenile plotting has given Cyric-"
"Whatever Cyric gained today were gifts from the rest of the pantheon," Mystra interrupted. "He would still be cutoff from the weave had the Circle not demanded otherwise. You and all the other greater powers are cowards, Binder."
The trial wasn't about Cyric. It was about you, and how you'd strayed from your duties as Goddess of Magic. Cyric understood that. It's why he called the Circle together in the first place. Your punishment would almost certainly swing the Balance back in his favor." Oghma gestured toward Mask. "And don't think for an instant this blackguard wasn't trying to draw you in, make you lash out against Cyric."
"What would I gain from that?" Mask asked with mock innocence. "Do tell…"
Oghma snorted in a very unscholarlike manner. "Just what you received: an alliance. Now that Mystra is alienated from the Circle, she's got nowhere left to turn."
"I recognize Mask's duplicity," Mystra said coldly. "After all, I see everyone's true motivation – that's the little secret you were hoping I'd stumble across, right?"
Swiftly Mask stepped between the two, hooking an arm around each of them. "Come, come. We all have something to gain from an alliance – even you, Lord Oghma. Let's discuss this at my palace, where I can ensure our mutual foe cannot hear us."
He led them through the archway, into the outlying alleys of Shadow Keep. The streets were narrow, the cobbles slick from the fog that hung over the city. Black-facade buildings loomed on every side, their upper stories leaning so close together they nearly touched. Shards