Thomas Reid - The Emerald Scepter

Vambran regarded the druid. "You have a knack for seeing things in a grander way than most people. Nature made a good choice in granting you the ability of portents and visions."

When Arbeenok smiled, Vambran thought he could detect a glint in the druid's eye.

"We must hurry, though," the lieutenant said at last, breaking the moment. "People in Reth are dying even as we stand here."

"We will reach her in time," Arbeenok said, understanding Vambran's thoughts without the mercenary needing to voice them. "My slowing magic should still be effective."

"I hope so," Vambran remarked. "The only way we'll reach her in time is to travel into the city the same way we departed. Can you do that?"

Arbeenok nodded and stepped back from his companion in order to have room to transform. He shifted and twisted to become a giant hawk, then the druid lofted himself into the air, reaching out with his talons to grasp Vambran by the shoulders as he had before.

Together, they soared into the sky, gliding their way toward the city and the plague.

It was nightfall by the time they landed in the city street near the villa where they had left Elenthia that morning. As soon as they arrived, Vambran was running into the home, calling to the woman. "Elenthia! Elenthia, we've returned. We found a way to heal you!"

Elenthia was not where Vambran had left her.

Vambran called frantically for a few moments, running from room to room, but the woman was nowhere to be found. He raced back down to the garden, trying to guess what might have happened to her. He jogged through the gate and out into the street, calling to Arbeenok.

The druid was surrounded by mercenaries of the Order of the Silver Raven, many of them holding lanterns aloft. They held crossbows leveled at him.

When Vambran appeared, several more soldiers moved to surround him, though they stayed back far enough that they clearly showed their fear of contracting the plague from the two visitors.

"You will stand very still, or we will kill you on the spot," one of the Silver Ravens said.

"All right," Vambran answered, remaining motionless. "But may I speak?"

"Only to answer our questions," the leader replied. "First, what are you doing here?"

"We've brought a cure for the plague," Vambran said, "and we've returned to this spot because I left a woman here. She had magical healing placed upon her by my druid friend here so she would not get sicker and die."

"A druid? I think not," the man said. "The only thing druids are good for is dying."

Vambran had to clench his teeth to avoid an angry outburst. Instead, he simply said, "My men and yours have been at odds for the last several days, but if you give us a chance, we can show you that I speak the truth. If we can cure the plague, would you want to hinder us?"

The soldier considered Vambran for a moment, then shook his head. "I won't make this decision myself," he said. "We'll leave this up to Captain Havalla." He turned and ordered a runner to fetch the captain, and the young soldier sprinted off to find the officer.

"May I ask if you know what happened to the woman I left here this morning?" Vambran asked. "She was too sick to go very far on her own."

"Someone undoubtedly found her," the soldier said, "and rounded her up into the middle of the city, in the quarantine camp, with all the rest."

Vambran was aghast. "But the plague works so fast!" he said. "Anyone who has it is likely to die and rise as a zombie!"

The man nodded, looking grim. "It's the only way we could control it," he said. "No one has been able to figure out what else to do. We're waiting for healers from Arrabar to arrive, but that could take days."

"Then let us help," Vambran said, feeling desperate. "Let us go to the quarantine camp and see what we can do to cure those people!"

At just that moment, a commotion began behind the soldier who had been speaking with Vambran. A runner appeared and began whispering to the men. When the soldier in charge heard what the runner had to report, he paled.

"What is it?" Vambran asked. "What's happening?"

"Zombies have gotten free of the quarantine area," the man said. "They're moving through the sewers and coming up in other areas of the city. We didn't contain them after all."

Men who had been steady and confident a moment before began milling about in panic, eyeing the sewer openings in the middle of the streets. Others turned and ran, despite shouted orders from others half-heartedly demanding that they stand their ground. Vambran knew that the confusion might be the only chance to escape and employ the scepter, but something told him that their chances were better if they could win over the leader of the Silver Ravens. He stood his ground.

"There's something else," the soldier said, shaking his head in dismay. "Something seems to be controlling the zombies, coordinating their movements and actions. They're actually attacking our lines."

"There's no time to waste, then," Vambran said. "You must let us help these people and destroy this plague. Otherwise, the city will be overwhelmed and no one will remain alive inside its walls. We can't wait for your captain to make this decision. You have to let Arbeenok and me defeat this disease."

The soldier hesitated, obviously unpracticed at making monumental decisions, but he nodded at last and ordered his men to lower their weapons. "What do you need us to do?" he asked.

Vambran sighed in relief. "Arbeenok?" he asked, hoping the druid understood the scepter's powers well enough to employ it. "Do you have it mastered?"

Arbeenok nodded. "I think so," he said. "I can wield it when I get close enough to see its effect. But Vambran," he said pointedly, "you must go to the palace."

Vambran looked at his companion, quizzical. "Why?" he asked.

"You must stop the source of this madness, and that source lies at the heart of seven great towers." The alaghi pointed. "There."

Vambran turned and looked at the highest structure in the city and saw but one tower-the tower of the Palace of the Seven.

"I'll never get there with the city blockaded and swarming with zombies," he said. "Can you become a hawk once more and take me there before you activate the scepter?"

"One time more," the druid said. "It will benefit us both." The alaghi shifted and took the shape of the dire hawk again, the emerald scepter safely tucked inside his form.

As Arbeenok pushed off and began to beat his powerful wings, Vambran gave a quick salute to the soldier who had been wise enough to let them go. "Don't worry," the lieutenant said, "you're doing the right thing. Tell Captain Havalla I want to meet with him once this is over."

The druid reached down and grabbed Vambran by the shoulders, as before. They launched into the air, soaring into the night sky and swooping over the fires and the clashing forces of men and undead below. After seeing firsthand the masses fighting and the devastation they were leaving in their wake, Vambran was even more thankful for his companion's assistance. I'd never have gotten through, he decided.

Arbeenok glided low toward a protected courtyard along one side of the palace, one that was screened off from the rest of the city by low walls. Vambran wasn't sure if the druid could sense the same thing he did, but a palpable feeling of malevolence hung in the air, making the mercenary feel unclean. It seemed to radiate from the palace and it was particularly strong at some point below ground level, near the plaza the druid had selected for landing.

Arbeenok drew up and released Vambran before alighting on the stones beside him. The druid cocked his avian head to one side, regarding the lieutenant.

"Good luck," the mercenary said to his companion.

Arbeenok replied with a single screech and a nod, then he pushed off and began winging his way toward the city's center.