Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [118]
Fendel hesitated, then took a deep breath. "You won't believe this…" He recounted the events of the past few days in detail-the Cult of the Dragon plot, the death of Azlar and the medusa, the existence of Xiliath the beholder.
The leader of the Elversult Maces didn't say anything, but the look on her face was one of obvious skepticism and disbelief.
"I wasn't working alone," the gnome explained. "I had some help. Lhasha, for one."
"That orphaned half-breed?" the ranger laughed. "She had a hand in this?"
Fendel cast Vaerana a sour look. "There's more to Lhasha than meets the eye. And she had a friend with her. Corin."
"The one-armed thug who nearly caused a riot in the Fair," Vaerana said. Seeing the surprise on Fendel's face, she added, "Did you really think I didn't know about that? I knew he'd gone to see you, and I figured you'd straighten him out. That's the only reason he wasn't arrested."
"Well… thanks, I guess."
"Don't say I didn't do you any favors," Vaerana replied before adding thoughtfully, "It's a good thing all our enemies hate each other at least as much as they hate us. Half the time I think that if the Harpers disappeared for a few years, everyone we're fighting against would just wipe each other out. Then we could all have the luxury of retiring to pursue our hobbies."
Fendel ignored the verbal jab. "You still need to deal with Xiliath," he reminded the Lady Protector of Elversult. "His power base is gone, but the eye tyrant's still floating around in those tunnels somewhere."
"Ill get some patrols together to go hunt the beholder down. Or at least drive him out of Elversult," Vaerana assured him. "I appreciate everything you've done Fendel. It's too bad your Harper pin's collecting dust somewhere in a drawer. You really knew how to play the game."
The gnome blushed slightly at the compliment. Any praise from the ever-demanding Vaerana Hawklyn was high praise indeed. But he still hadn't come to the real reason for his visit.
Noticing the wrinkled man had made no move to leave, Vaerana sighed. "Something else, gnome?"
"The Purple Masks. They've got a death sentence out on Lhasha. I know you've got Harpers high enough up in the guild to get it rescinded."
"We're not about to risk years of working our agents into positions of power just to protect one poor orphan girl!" Vaerana protested. "Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good."
"C'mon, Vaerana. Be reasonable. Don't you owe her something after all this?"
The ranger considered his words for a few seconds before nodding. "All right, you win. The Harpers are always good to those who serve the cause-whether willingly or not."
"There's something else. The one-armed warrior, Corin. He's hurt. Or sick. He's wasting away. I doubt hell live until tomorrow."
"So get one of your Gond buddies to help him. That's what you clerics do, isn't it?"
"This isn't some ordinary wound. It's… I don't know what it is, but even the High Artificer can't help him."
"What makes you think the Harpers can help?" Seeing the look Fendel gave her, Vaerana relented. "Fine. Ill see what we can do. But I'm not making any promises."
***
Lhasha was still sitting in the chair by Corin's bedside. Her muscles were so stiff and sore, she had given up trying to find a comfortable position. So she sat motionless, helplessly waiting for her friend to die.
Fendel had left several hours ago and had not returned. The half-elf imagined he was praying to Gond for guidance, or possibly respecting her privacy in the final hours she would share with Corin.
The end was close now. Lhasha could see his condition rapidly deteriorating. His body no longer lay still but thrashed about in the throes of violent and unrelenting seizures. His head snapped from side to side with such force that acrid beads of perspiration flew from his fevered brow. Between clenched teeth he muttered and groaned incessantly, nonsensical babbling frequently punctuated by wracking