Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [5]
Kellin tore open the crate and found a heavy petrified bone rattling against the hardwood sides. It had already smashed and destroyed whatever other artifacts were stored with it, and when the lid came off, the bone jumped into midair. Almost automatically, Kellin reached out and grasped it, and when she did, the object's mysterious animation subsided.
Find the living. The words flashed through her mind as she clutched the bone. Something else came with it: an impression of terrible need and danger that washed over her and set her trembling. It would be a long time before she would feel right again.
Kellin held the bone up to her face and muttered, "Thunderbeast."
CHAPTER 2
Geildarr Ithym, Mayor of Llorkh, made his way back from the Ten Bells tavern flanked by a few of the Lord's Men. He cursed that even his own drunken stumble home had to be moderated by troops, but security was always of the essence. No sooner had Hellgate Keep fallen, eliminating one threat, than another-Shade-had appeared in the desert in the form of a floating city. And Shade was hardly the only threat Llorkh faced. Agents from the Silver Marches, Harpers and Moonstars, rival wizards from the Brotherhood of the Arcane in Luskan, and rebellious townsfolk who remembered a time before Llorkh was under Zhentarim rule-all these threatened. Plus there was the present danger of insane dragons sweeping out of the Graypeaks or the High Forest. It wasn't so long ago that the phaerimm sent a force of bugbears against the city, and not long after that a rabble of dwarves thought to retake their old mines and stronghold-though their conspiracy was put down before any damage was done, it served as a grim reminder of how fragile Geildarr's rule really was.
Geildarr took his leave of the guards at the gateway to the towering Lord's Keep: his residence as Mayor of Llorkh, and the city's seat of power. The windowless Lord's Keep was the tallest building in Llorkh, and perhaps the dullest in a town filled with plain, utilitarian structures of stone. Beneath it was an extensive complex of tunnels and dungeons, the residence of many of Llorkh's enemies over the years. He could hear a few muffled screams from the torture chambers even now. Just before the gates, Geildarr lingered a moment at the spot where the previous lord, Phintarn Redblade, was found dead all those years before.
Lord's Men opened the iron doors. In the front foyer, a large painting of Geildarr hung on the wall, depicting him standing before the Lord's Keep and smiling as the happy people of Llorkh crowded around him. Geildarr climbed the staircase several floors to his private residence. He passed his custom-made golem in the anteroom and opened the sturdy iron door into a long hallway dotted with wall hangings and pedestals. Each bore an assortment of arcane and mundane relics, most recovered from the nearby ruins. Geildarr had personally studied each of them, learned something of their history and power, and applied many of their principles in the new magical items and weapons he designed. He relished being wrapped in antiquity. The items here hailed from dwarf kingdoms, elf kingdoms, and human kingdoms-all of them fallen and gone, remembered only by historians.
Lately, Geildarr had been wondering when he'd fall along with them.
A chill draft from his balcony greeted him when he reached the door to his wood-paneled study at the end of the hall. He found a missive waiting for him, likely arrived on the latest caravan from Zhentil Keep. It was marked with the new symbol of the Zhentarim-Fzoul Chembryl's symbol, Geildarr laughed bitterly-featuring Fzoul's own Scepter of the Tyrant's Eye.
This was the greatest threat to Geildarr's