Realms of Valor - James Lowder [127]
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Sarafina started up a narrow lane toward her father's inn, motioning for Adon to follow along. “We didn't see Lord Gorgias again until the fog had lifted.” “And when was that?” “A month after the gods ascended to the heavens again,” said Sarafina. “He'd become the monster you see now. Somehow, though, he'd come to believe that he was more handsome than ever. He still believes that.” “This is all very interesting, but there's nothing in what you've said that convinces me Lady Mystra is powerless to help us,” Adon said, already puffing from the exertion of carrying Corene up the steep slope. “I haven't finished,” Sarafina replied. Unlike the cleric, she showed no strain at carrying her heavy burden. “After the fog lifted, Gorgias cursed the gods for harming his people and for letting magic become unstable. He cast a spell over the village to hide us from the heavens. We were safe from the gods-but they could no longer hear our pleas. It was as if Tegea had died to them.” She paused and turned sad eyes to Adon. “We had a church of Chauntea here, but the priests found they could no longer commune with the Great Mother. They lost their status in Tegea, so they left. When our crops didn't suffer for their leaving, Gorgias said it was only more proof that gods held nothing for us.” “And what did it prove for you?” Adon asked softly. “That the clerics mustn't have been very holy.” She sighed mournfully, making her veil flutter. “They were only interested in being important people in the village. A few other wandering priests have been through here, but they leave when they discover they're cut off from their gods.” “But Corene cast spells to protect the village. You saw her cover Broka's face with boils,” Adon noted. “And I summoned that pillar of fire to strike down the duke.” “It's true,” Sarafina admitted, “you and Corene are the only clerics who have been able to call upon your goddess for even the most minor magic, but...” “Go on,” Adon prompted kindly. “Forgive me, Patriarch, but your flames did nothing to the duke.” She looked down at the misshapen woman in Adon's arms. “And Lady Corene's magic couldn't save me-or save herself from a fate worse than mine.” Adon stopped walking. “You just might be right,” he said softly. “The duke's spell may make it difficult for Mystra to answer our prayers, but I can't give up.” The patriarch laid Corene on the ground and tried again to dispel the magic that had turned her into such a hideous thing. This time, though, Adon prayed only for Corene to be healed, with no thoughts of his own part in bringing her to this sorry state. The novice's body began to glow with a greenish aura and was quickly swaddled in swirling lights that obscured her from view. For several moments, Adon waited in silent anticipation. When the radiance finally died away, he saw that his spell had worked, more or less. Corene's body had returned to normal, but her face remained disfigured. Corene returned to her feet, staring at her arms and legs as if seeing them for the first time. “You've saved me!” “Not entirely,” said Sarafina, pointing timidly to her face. "But it will make
your journey easier.“ ”What journey?“ Adon demanded. ”We're staying. You've seen that I can undo the duke's magic.“ ”And what of her face?“ countered Sarafina, reaching down to stroke the white fleece hanging off Corene's chin. ”Her curse isn't so different from mine. You haven't rid her of that.“ ”If it's the only way I can prove to you I'm right and you should have faith in Mystra, I shall,“ Adon said. A yellow glow spread