Sword of the Gods - Bruce R. Cordell [74]
The queen said, “You really believe the Firestorm Cabal is implicated in the monstrous outbreaks afflicting the city?” She let her head fall to one side as she considered him with flashing eyes.
“Your Majesty,” said Chant, shuffling a pace closer. “We do believe it. The information we gained at Chevesh’s tower isn’t the only strike against the Cabal. When we met Leheren and two other lieutenants, one of them bore a jagged spiral tattoo on his neck. That mark is one of the signs of the Elder Elemental Eye. And … both the beasts we’ve fought, one by Demascus alone, swore allegiance to the same entity; the Elder Elemental Eye!”
The queen peered at Chant, then at Demascus, and finally at Carmenere as if for confirmation.
The silverstar said, “I have no reason to doubt their claims. And it could explain the destruction of the Motherhouse, through some sort of internal strife.”
Arathane lingered in the exit, her face impassive. Demascus noticed for the first time four genasi in palace livery stood within earshot. They scrutinized the queen, as if perhaps waiting for a sign from their sovereign.
Their distance from the bower and from one another, the weapons visible on their belts, and reserves likely nearby, just in case …
The queen said, eyes locked on Chant, “Tell me this; did you come here seeking a reward?”
“No,” said Demascus.
Chant opened his mouth as if to disagree, but Demascus hurtled onward. “Regardless of what you decide, I’m already involved. All of us are, to some extent. Even your niece, now that she’s associated with us. We’ve been marked by this cult. They’re sending killer monsters after us, by all that’s holy! Odds are, they’ll continue to do so until we’re dead. Even if you don’t want or need our assistance, if you have any information at all that would help us, we would be greatly in your debt.”
Arathane didn’t move for several long heartbeats.
Demascus wondered if he should describe his awakening at the shrine, the Veil’s revelation of his past incarnations, and the possibility that some kind of nemesis hunted him. The urge to reveal it all was overpowering. But doing so would just further muddy the waters, or even give the queen pause to wonder about his sanity. He forced himself to watch the monarch in silence as she decided.
Arathane sighed.
“You’re going to let us help!” guessed Riltana. She shot a quick look at Carmenere, then away.
The queen said, “Yes. We can aid each other. If you swear by your names to keep what I am about to tell you confidential to those of us gathered here?”
“I swear on my name,” said Demascus. The oath had tumbled out of his mouth before he quite realized it.
“As do I,” said Carmenere.
Riltana looked around the bower as if looking for some hidden scribe. She said, “I am Riltana; I swear.”
Chant shook his head like a man just informed that his child had a terminal illness. But he said, “I’m Chant Morven; I swear to keep what you tell us here between only the five of us.” The human’s tone was resigned.
Arathane leaned into the bower. She said, her voice lower than before, “The deputy commander of the Cabal is a friend of mine. In an unofficial capacity, the Firestorm Cabal sometimes provides services to the Crown, especially when I don’t want to involve the stewards.”
“I’ve heard rumors to that effect,” said Chant.
“And if you know what’s good for you, they’ll stay rumors,” said Carmenere.
“Let the queen continue,” said Demascus.
Arathane’s mouth quirked in what might be a smile. She continued, “I visited the Motherhouse to enlist the Cabal’s aid in the matter of several monstrous rampages. He told me then he’d discovered a secret faction within the Cabal.”
“Ah,” said the silverstar.
“Ah, indeed. The Firestorm Cabal is divided. However, he mentioned nothing about a cult or the Elder Elemental Eye. On the other hand, the deputy commander was concerned this splinter sect might be responsible for the monster attacks around Airspur.”
“Wait, you knew the Firestorm