The Wizardwar - Elaine Cunningham [85]
Zalathorm considered this puzzle as he made his way through the labyrinth to the exit and back to his palace. When divination would not serve, there were other ways to smoke out treachery.
Logic was foremost among them. Who was in a position to act, and who stood to gain? His thoughts drifted to Procopio Septus, who seemed exceptionally well versed in the magic of the eastern lands.
As the king neared his private rooms, he noted the small, white flag tucked into a bracket mounted near the door. Though a diviner of Zalathorm's power could easily sense the presence of most living beings, the jordaini's magic resistance made them difficult to perceive. It was custom and courtesy for a jordain to give notice of his presence.
Matteo was back already from the Nath. Zalathorm quickened his pace.
The young jordain rose when the king entered the room and sank into a deep bow. "My lord, I have much to report."
No preamble, none of the niceties of Halruaan protocol. Zalathorm nodded with approval. "Get on with it."
"The laraken has returned. My jordaini brothers and I battled it in the Nath.
All would have died, but the monster was magically removed from battle. This suggests that Kiva may have returned from the Plane of Water, and possibly Akhlaur as well. The necromancer's spellbook contains a spell of dehydration similar to that cast against the Mulhorandi invaders."
"The spell was Akhlaur's," the king agreed. "There is no doubt in my mind.
His tower has been raised-I've sensed a disturbance in the magic that hid it from treasure seekers."
The jordain smiled faintly. "Lord Basel said this report would be unnecessary."
"Basel?"
"Lord Basel met us in the Nath and put his skyship at my disposal."
"Good thinking. From now on you shall have your own ship. Have the steward see to it. What more?"
"I’m going after Tzigone. Lord Basel has found a spell that should serve.
Its casting requires a lock of hair from one of my ancestors. I spoke with my father."
"Ah." Zalathorm looked at him keenly. "This saddened you."
"Deeply. I knew the man all my life. He was one of my jordaini masters. He taught me all I know of battle magic and watched over me from my earliest years.
Yet I knew him as my father only on the day his life ended."
The king looked startled. "Vishna! Of course you're Vishna's son-now that I look for it, the resemblance is plain. I felt his death. Tell me why it coincided with your meeting."
Zalathorm listened as the jordain related Vishna's story. "A lich transformation. So that is why I sensed his essence still lingering. It's trapped somewhere, changing and gathering strength, awaiting a return to Vishna's body.
Gods above!" he shouted, slamming one fist against the wall, "how could Akhlaur do this to a man he once called friend?"
"I fear he is not finished with Vishna," Matteo said quietly. When the king sent him a quizzical glance, the jordain added, "Akhlaur is a necromancer."
"Necromancers can command the undead," Zalathorm said in despairing tones. "As long as Akhlaur lives, Vishna will never be allowed to die."
Chapter Fifteen
Matteo stood at the base of the fairy mound into which Tzigone had disappeared. Basel Indoulur's skyship hovered overhead, but the wizard and Andris had come down into the Nath with him. Basel stood ready to cast the spell, a magehound's jeweled wand in his hand and an uncharacteristically grim expression on his round face.
Matteo glanced from the wizard to the ghostly jordain and back. "I'm not sure which of you is paler," he quipped.
"I'm not the one casting the spell," Andris responded. "Lord Basel has the responsibility of sending you in. My only task is welcoming you back." He spoke stoutly, refusing to acknowledge the possibility that Matteo might not return. The two friends clasped wrists, then fell into a brief embrace.
Matteo stepped back and nodded to Basel. The wizard began the chanting of the spell. It was a complex thing, a strange and jagged melody