Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [81]
"So he's taken Lhasha there?"
"Undoubtedly," the wizard responded. "If you can use this map to reach her, and bring her out, then obviously its worth will be proven."
"Even if I do find her, what good will it do?" Corin asked. "I can't carry her out on my shoulders, not if she's…" His voice trailed off, unable to voice her horrible fate.
From beneath the voluminous folds of the mage's robes a small vial appeared on the table. "This will restore your friend to her natural state. Simply pour it over her stone form. Be warned: There is enough for a single use, and no more. Do not waste it."
With his good hand Corin picked up the vial and carefully examined it. It would take a pretty firm blow to shatter the thick, solid glass of the heavy container. The stopper was wedged tightly into the neck, with no chance of it coming loose accidentally. Through the opaque distortion of the vial, Corin could make out a syrupy, brightly colored liquid inside.
"It's a suicide mission," he said, still studying the potion. "There'll be guards and traps all over the place. Restoring Lhasha might set off some type of alarm, and getting out will be twice as hard as getting in."
Azlar shrugged. "That is not my problem. This is the chance I'm offering to you."
Corin thought it over for a few minutes. He knew Azlar wasn't telling him everything. It was obvious the mage held something back, but Corin doubted he'd get anything more out of the wizard.
"It's a deal. I'll do it for Lhasha."
"Don't wait too long," Azlar warned. "We are loathe to leave the package in Xiliath's hands for any length of time. If you have not returned in a couple days, I will have to assume you have failed, and the cult will take other steps."
"I'll go tonight. I just need to get some supplies."
"Be careful who you speak of this to," the wizard cautioned. "If news of the package reaches the authorities, Xiliath will likely destroy all the evidence. I'm sure I need not explain the consequences of using the potion on a pile of rubble."
The image of Lhasha's shattered form rose unbidden to Corin's mind, and he grimaced as if in pain. Azlar, misinterpreting his gesture, waved his hand, and his goons withdrew their knives and stepped away, still keeping a cautious eye on the one-armed warrior.
Corin slowly pushed his seat back and rose to his feet. "Where will I find you once I'm done?"
"You will not find me. We shall never speak again. If you succeed, I will know."
With nothing more to discuss, Corin left, casting a contemptuous glance back at the hunchbacked waitress cowering behind the bar, watching him go.
Azlar waited until Corin had left before rising himself. Instantly his bodyguards were beside him, ready to give their lives to protect the cult's latest rising star. Azlar didn't even acknowledge them. He was thinking about the one-armed warrior.
Of course, he didn't expect Corin to succeed. The map he had given the one-armed man was incomplete. It showed only the most heavily used and well-guarded passages controlled by Xiliath. Azlar's own map, the true copy, contained several less secure routes into Xiliath's stronghold as well as weaknesses in his defenses. The sheer size of the tunnel system made it impossible for Xiliath to guard every access point to his lair. The very thing that had kept him safe from discovery this past year now made him vulnerable to attack.
When Corin descended into the underground labyrinth, he would quickly be spotted by Xiliath's guards. The alarm would be raised, and the warrior would find himself facing the greater part of Xiliath's army.
This was fine as far as Azlar was concerned. Corin was nothing more than a distraction, a way to draw the attention of the main part of Xiliath's forces. While he bumbled foolishly into certain death, Azlar and his men would launch a surprise attack of their own through a different passage. By the time Xiliath's troops realized their mistake, Azlar would already be safely back on the city's surface with the package.
But