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Kameron Franklin: Maiden of Pain

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Kameron Franklin Maiden of Pain

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"You cannot hide, Loviatan!" Kaestra called out. "I will destroy this whole temple if I have to."

Ythnel believed her. She cast about for something to use as a weapon. A glint caught her eye, and she saw the steel tip of her spear resting not far from her on the floor. However, reaching it meant moving from the small cover she was hiding behind. Deciding to risk it, she darted for the spearhead.

Kaestra spotted Ythnel and immediately sent Entropy after her. Ythnel grabbed the short length of shaft still attached to the spearhead and stood, swivel-ing to face Kaestra.

"I've had just about enough of you and your god," Ythnel said and hurled the spearhead at Kaestra. The high priestess opened her mouth in surprise, and her eyes widened as the makeshift weapon flew true, burying itself in her breast. Blood blossomed across Kaestra's white tabard, and her eyes fluttered. Her mouth worked in an effort to say something, but all that came out was a trickle of blood. She sagged back against the end of a pew and died.

Ythnel let out a sigh of relief then remembered Entropy. She looked to her left and saw the sphere hovering motionless less than a foot beside her. "That was closer than I would have liked."

With one last look around the nave, Ythnel staggered out of the temple and into the night. She leaned heavily against one of the columns outside to catch her breath and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. The air was chill, and she felt gooseflesh rise along her arms and legs.

"Ythnel!"

The shout brought Ythnel's head up, and she saw Iuna coming toward her from the shadows of the portico. Ythnel pushed herself up off the column and embraced the girl with her good arm.

"It's snowing, Ythnel. I've never seen snow before."

Ythnel looked out into the night to see flakes of white coming down in a steady flurry. The ground was already covered in a light dusting.

"I've never seen snow before, either." She smiled down at Iuna. "Come on. Let's get out of here." They walked out under the snow toward the waiting street. Ythnel wasn't sure how they would get out of the city, but she was too tired and sore to think about that now.

A black carriage pulled up to the gap between the walls surrounding the temple, blocking access to the street. Ythnel halted as soon as she saw it, shoving Iuna protectively behind her. Between the snow and the shadows, she couldn't identify who was driving.

"Get inside. We don't have all night. Or would you rather walk?" Kestus hopped down from the driver's seat of the carriage, a welcoming grin splitting his face. Ythnel breathed a sigh of relief and jogged to the carriage, pulling Iuna along behind her. Kestus helped them both inside, closed the door behind them, and climbed back up to take the reins. Then the carriage took off once more into the night, heading toward the South Gate and out of Luthcheq.

EPILOGUE

Aznar Thrul sat at his dining table, sipping the bowl of soup before him with disinterest. He really wasn't hungry. Well, at least he was not hungry for food. There was time to kill, however, so he went through the motions of taking his evening meal. When Aznar had nearly finished half the bowl, his chamberlain appeared to announce that his guest had arrived and was waiting in the bedchamber. Aznar nodded his acknowledgment and continued with the meal. When the last of the soup had been drained, he dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clink, pushed back from the table, and rose.

He forced himself to maintain a leisurely pace as he strode down the hall to his chambers. Tonight's meeting had occupied his thoughts all day. It was a long time coming, and the possibilities excited him. This would not be just another conquest. It would be the start of something bigger.

At the door to his room, Aznar paused to compose himself. It was important that he remained in control, and letting too much emotion show could jeopardize that. Satisfied that his face revealed nothing more than he wanted it to, he opened the door and step inside.

Headmistress Yenael sat on the bed, her body half-turned toward the door. As was customary for all visitors to the zulkir's chambers, whatever clothes she had worn to the Citadel had been left in the care of his chamberlain. In their place, Yenael was given a sheer white gown. The practice was for security reasons, of course, but Aznar certainly didn't mind the additional benefits it occasionally presented him. Even after twenty years, Yenael's body was still firm and quite attractive. He didn't bother to hide a smile of pleasure as he walked to the center of the room.

"So, do you have something to report, or was this visit simply a social call." He watched her from the corner of his eye. She had made no pretenses at modesty when he entered, and he had expected none. That was the other purpose of the gown. Being naked in the presence of others who were dressed was often unsettling enough for people that they let their guard down and gave away things they hadn't intended to. Yenael's face was placid, and her body language said she was perfectly comfortable. Aznar wondered why that didn't anger him.

"My agent was successful, O Mighty Tharchion, Mightier Zulkir." She used the proper address, but her tone of voice did not hold any acknowledgment of the weight behind those titles. "I'm sure your own intelligence sources have already informed you that Mordulkin's forces are on the move."

Aznar nodded and moved over to an end table that held a tray with a decanter of Thayan brandy and two glasses. He offered one to Yenael, but she shook her head, so he poured for himself and set the decanter down. Picking up the glass, he turned to Yenael and took a sip.

"So, the question now is whether Mordulkin will remember its promise once Luthcheq falls."

"I would not worry about it, O Mighty Tharchion, Mightier Zulkir. Hercubes is a man of his word. He will honor the agreement. The city will stand, as much as it chafes him. And you will be allowed to establish an enclave by whomever is installed as governor."

"A governor I will have chosen," Aznar laughed, "though Hercubes will think it was his own decision."

"Of course," Yenael agreed.

Aznar downed the remainder of his brandy and returned the glass to its place on the end table. He was almost giddy over the success of his plan. The enclave would be the first of many he'd sponsor. No longer would he have to worry about his rival zulkirs gaining some advantage over him through this enterprise. As a bonus, he would be ridding Faerun of the fanatical Karanok family and their insane dream of purging the world of wizards. It was certainly a cause for celebration if ever there was one, and he said as much out loud.

"Did you have something particular in mind, O Mighty Tharchion, Mightier Zulkir?" Yenael asked, her eyebrow arched.

"It has been a while since I was last subject to your ministrations," Aznar mused. "I'd be interested in seeing how much your skills have progressed." to her.

Saestra Karanok leaned against the back of the chaise lounge with her right arm folded under her breasts while she played absently with the dagger in her left hand. She wore a backless lace blouse with frilly sleeves that matched her violet eyes, tucked into a black, mid-thigh-length leather skirt. The skirt was practically indecent, but she enjoyed it. A pair of French doors leading to a balcony in the wall behind her had been swung open, allowing the light of the full moon and the occasional wintry gust of wind to enter the room. She watched as a wisp of cloud crossed the face of Selune and sighed.

Things were starting to unravel in Luthcheq. Kaestra, her twin sister, had been found dead in the Temple of Entropy, the black sphere itself hovering just a few feet from her. There were rumors and whispers that the god had killed its high priestess in displeasure for the church's crusade against the Art. These were reinforced by the alleged "wizard attacks" this past Midwinter and the reports that the forces of Mordulkin were now on the move against the city.

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