Red Magic - Jean Rabe [84]
"I'm sorry," the druid began, not looking in her eyes. "I had to tell him everything he wanted to know. I had to. I felt like a puppet."
"It's not your fault." She tried to console him, edging to his side again. "Their power is far greater than ours. It's just our dumb luck to have drawn the attention of Szass Tam." The sorceress draped her arms about Galvin's shoulders, then stiffened when she noticed the Red Wizard looking at her.
"How feminine and sickeningly touching," Szass Tam purred. "You'll have time enough to enjoy each others' company later, after you've finished working for me."
"Never!" Galvin roared, shrugging off Brenna's arms and rising to his feet. He kept his eyes focused on Szass Tam's, not wanting to fall victim again to the vampire's control. "I'm a Harper, zulkir. I've dedicated my life to fighting for good. I'm not going to help you. I'll die first!"
"And if you die, you'll help me anyway," the lich replied. The vampires backed away from the zulkir as he laughed, a rich deep, throaty chuckle that sent goose bumps racing up and down Galvin's and Brenna's spines. Szass Tam leveled his gaze on the pair and willed his fleshly illusion to melt, the pink skin flowing from him to reveal his gaunt, corpselike body. The lich's robes hung about him, and his arms and face appeared as bones covered by incredibly old, thin flesh. He threw back his skeletal head and laughed once more, then focused on the pair, the red pinpoints of his eyes staring out at them through deep sockets.
Brenna screamed again and again at Szass Tam's true visage. She threw her trembling hands over face, and her shoulders shuddered terribly. She shook her head back and forth, trying to deny the creature before her. She had heard that one of Thay's zulkir's was a lich, the most powerful form of undead to walk the realms. On trembling legs, she rose to stand behind Galvin, finding little comfort in the druid's closeness.
Szass Tam glared at her. "The dead are under my command, just as death is my domain. I'm beyond the living, Harpers, and I'm beyond your feeble protests. You will help me-living or dead. You will do exactly as I say.
"And if your performance is satisfactory," the lich continued, "I will let you go. My plans do not call for meddling in Harper affairs or evoking the wrath of Aglarond dignitaries and statesmen. I have no desire to involve myself in such trivial things right now. So if you perform well, we will both be satisfied. You will learn what Maligor is up to, and I will have ended his miserable little plot."
Galvin's resolve appeared firm. "What makes you think we'll help you willingly?" he protested, though deep down he knew that if the lich wanted their aid, the Harpers would be forced to comply. He was curious, however, to learn just how the lich would force them and if they truly would be freed afterward.
"Since you wish to continue this, very well," Szass Tam sighed, moving slowly in front of his desk. He leaned backward against it, placing his bony hands flat on the polished surface and resting his slight weight on them. The zulkir's red eyes vanished, leaving the sockets black like pits. He drew his thin lips tight and languidly rocked his head back and forth.
Galvin and Brenna saw their surroundings waver, then turn to mist, then change. They were on the edge of a city at dusk; the sorceress recognized it as her hometown.
Looking down the main street, they saw a legion of undead-skeletons and zombies, led by a pair of vampires-ripping people from their homes, tearing soldiers' limbs off, and tramping over the dead and dying. The spectacle worsened as they spotted Wynter, his flesh hanging from his ribs and arms, his eyes hollow sockets like Szass Tam's. The centaur was leading a pack of ghouls that were headed straight toward the government buildings. Like a ghastly play, the scene continued to unfold until it seemed no one remained alive in the city.