Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [107]
The success or failure of this attack depended on whether Vell could impart his powers of transformation on the others.
"I can transform myself, I'm sure. But how do I change the others?" asked Vell.
"You voluntarily changed into a behemoth to fight Keirkrad, did you not?" asked Lanaal.
Vell nodded, and swallowed hard. "I know that this should be no different. But what if I simply don't have the power? Your hermit may have been lying. Even if he is capable of this, that is no guarantee that…"
"Then we will try something else, Vell," said Thluna. "We have a dozen potent allies imprisoned in Llorkh. You are in contact with them."
"I am. Contact of sorts, that is." Vell could feel the behemoths' every sensation when he let himself probe their minds. From their eyes, he could survey much of Llorkh. Alongside the misery of their containment, he found in them an animal excitement at the potential of liberation. In his mind, he received images of the place they wanted to be-the peaceful idyll of the Sanctuary where they had spent their entire lives. They had never imagined being anywhere else, had never realized there was anywhere else to be. And the Shepherds. They loved the Shepherds. They loved Vell because they thought he was one of them.
"They are ready to fight?" asked Kellin.
Vell nodded in affirmation. They chafed in their bondage, as any creature would.
"So are we," said Hengin. "In whatever body is necessary." He, Ilskar, Draf, Thanar, and Rask stood waiting for Vell to attempt the impossible and make behemoths of them all.
"If it does work," Vell warned them all, "you will find your senses much changed. It may be difficult to keep the consciousness necessary to do your job." He looked to Thanar. "I cannot know how this compares to a druid's wildforms. It's possible that your skills will not prepare you for this."
"I understand that," said the druid.
"I fear that all of you may become what I was the first time," said Vell. "A mindless, rampaging beast. We all know the blood rage. You know what it is like to lose yourself. The purity of that emotion is enticing. This transformation will be just as much, and a thousand times more." He surprised himself with his own eloquence.
"But we must try to lock up our rage. There are innocents in Llorkh. We must fear for them. Our tribe has killed enemy innocents before, but that is not something we remember as glory. Fear for your own minds too. It may be hard to come back. You might forget you were ever human."
A disquieted hush fell over the five as they absorbed Vell's speech.
"Do you still choose this?" asked Vell. They all nodded, but with less enthusiasm. "Keep whatever part of yourself you hold most dear foremost in your mind. That, I hope, will help you keep a level head."
The sun's early rays crawled across the sky, tracing the edges of the mine-scarred Graypeaks. The world seemed so peaceful, as if all of its troubles were vanishing just as the light dabbed the clouds in tones of gentle pink.
"To Llorkh," Thluna said. "To glory or ruin. We have come so far to do Uthgar's will. I can only hope, if we die, that we will die pleasing him." Rather than trumpeting his cry to battle across the plains, as he might when leading a throng of warriors, he whispered it. The moment was private and intimate. His eyes fell on each of his companions: this strange assembly of a bird-souled elf, a southern sorceress, a half-orc Tree Ghost, a druid exile, stalwart Thunderbeast warriors, and this strangest of creatures, Vell the Brown. His eyes shone with love and respect.
Vell's hands trembled as he extended them, one to Rask, the other to Hengin. With Draf, Thanar, and Ilskar they formed a circle of linked hands and sank into concentration.