Troy Denning: The Sorcerer

"Lord Duirsar, I will, of course, serve Evereska until we have seen the last of the phaerimm and their mind-slaves driven from the Shaeradim."

He glanced in Takari's direction and allowed his glance to linger there until he saw realization dawn in her eyes, then he turned to face Vala.

"But I have given my word to Vala that I would see the darkswords we have borrowed returned safely to their families in Vaasa."

Duirsar's jaw dropped, and a murmur of disbelief rustled through the assembly. No elf dared refuse Lord Duirsar-at least no elf who was a citizen of Evereska.

"Galaeron!" Vala hissed. "There's no need-"

"I am an elf," Galaeron cut her off. His eyes darted toward the high mage. "I keep my promises."

Even Vala could not miss the gratitude and relief in the high mage's expression.

"I hope you understand, milord," Vala said. "It is a matter of some importance to my people that the weapons be returned by the one who borrowed them."

Taken aback though he was by Galaeron's refusal, Lord Duirsar was nevertheless wise enough to recognize a graceful out when it was offered. He nodded courteously and smiled.

"It was rude of me not to think of that. I'm quite certain we'll be able to find someone else." He paused for a moment then turned to Keya and said, "And what of you, young Lady Nihmedu? Will we be needing to find a new commander for your company as well?"

Dexon limped forward, as completely oblivious to the proper etiquette as only a Vaasan could be, and growled, "With your permission, Milord, we'll be making our home here-as long as you can stomach me, that is."

Lord Duirsar turned to Vala and asked, "Would that be agreeable to the Granite Tower?"

"He's free to do as he pleases," Vala said. She reached out and pinched Dexon's swarthy cheek. "As long as he gives the baby a Vaasan name."

"At least the first one," Keya promised.

"Very well, then," Duirsar said, turning to Dexon. Then it would be our honor to 'stomach you* for the rest of your life, my friend."

Dexon grinned and engulfed Lord Duirsar in a bear hug.

While the elf lord endeavored to extract himself, Vala turned to Takari and said, "And you're free to do as you please, too."

Takari frowned. "Free?" she asked. "Of course I'm free. I'm Sy’Tel’Quess."

"Let me put this another way," Vala said. "As the bearer of Kuhl's child and his darksword, you have a home with us in Vaasa."

"With you?" Takari said, She smiled broadly and came over to stand with Vala and Galaeron. "We're all going to Vaasa to live in the Granite Tower… together?"

"If you like, yes."

Vala glanced at Galaeron as though looking for rescue, but of course he only smiled and used fingertalk to thank her. She went pale, but quickly collected herself and took Takari by the arm.

"We have some very interesting customs in Vaasa," Vala said, narrowing her eyes at Galaeron. "Our men sleep in the snow."

3 Eleasias, the Year of Wild Magic

No sooner had Shade Enclave stopped wobbling than the summons came to Malygris, the Blue Suzerain of Anauroch. Though it took a mighty act of will to resist the call of the Most High, the dracolich lingered atop his perch, watching to see if the thread of shadow that ran between the enclave and the dark lake beneath would dissolve, or if the capsized mountain would rise to its former place high in the sky. When neither happened, Malygris deigned to answer. Lifting his boneless magnificence off the peak where he'd been resting, he flew into the city.

Before entering the cave where the Most High always met him, Malygris took a turn over the enclave and found that the magnificent metropolis had degenerated overnight into a drab city of hovels and tenements. The Palace Most High, whose grandeur had awed even him, was in the light of Anauroch's sun little more than a barren field, with a freestanding arch to mark the entrance and a handful of stairwells leading down into the ground.

When Malygris finally entered the Cave Gate, he found Telamont Tanthul waiting with a pile of freshly decapitated heads large enough to hold a dragon. The stench was awful, but that would change with a decade of curing. Though he tried not to show it, Malygris was impressed. The next time the accursed Cult of the Dragon priests came to his lair with some errand, he would enjoy watching their faces when they looked upon his new nest

Malygris was so grateful that instead of forcing the Most High to come to him as usual, the dracolich landed in front of the shade. The platinum glow of Telamont’s s eyes seemed less bright, but there was another sign of his weariness.

"You were occupied, Mighty One?" Telamont asked.

"That is none of your concern." Malygris raised his horny snout bone toward the pile of heads and asked, "You have gifts?"

The Most High nodded and waved an empty sleeve toward the heap. If he realized his confidence was being tested, he showed no sign.

The Cult of the Dragon," said he shade.

Malygris's jaw dropped.

"The whole cult?"

"Only the fools who knew of your bondage," Telamont clarified.

"All? You're sure?" Malygris asked. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "I am free?"

Telamont inclined his head.

"Did you not tell me it was impossible to free me of the Cult?"

"It was then," Telamont answered. "We acted when we could be certain."

"And when your need was greatest," Malygris said, turning toward the cave mouth. "You may deliver the heads to my lair."

He spread his wings, but found himself unable to launch. The weight of Telamont's will pressed down on him so hard he thought it might crush one of his minor wing bones, and he found himself speaking thoughts he had intended to keep private.

"I have seen the true face of Shade, and I am no longer awed."

Malygris tried to stop there, but Telamont’s s will forced him to continue, "The Chosen mammals are peeling your blankets from the High Ice, and the strength of the other warmblood realms will soon return. It will not be long, I think, before your city crashes into the lake or flees back into the shadow."

"You are mistaken, my friend, but I will not hold it against you."

Telamont pointed at the floor by his feet, and Malygris found himself clattering over to lay his magnificent chin on the cold stone. He thought instantly of the amulet the cult priests used to control him, but it was not hanging from the Most High's neck. Telamont Tanthul had his own magic.

"Shade is here to stay."

"Shade is here to stay," Malygris found himself repeating.

"We have many enemies, but we are accustomed to enemies."

"We have many enemies-" Malygris tried to resist saying "we," but the will of the Most High was as heavy as all of his coin piles together-"but we are accustomed to enemies."

"Shade will prevail as it always prevails, by hiding in the darkness and striking from the shadows."

Malygris's resistance crumbled, and he found himself repeating the words of his own will.

"Shade will prevail as it always prevails, by hiding in the darkness and striking from the shadows."

"Good," Telamont said. He raised his sleeve and wrapped five tendrils of cold shadow around Malygris's nose horn. 'Together, we will triumph."

When he spoke this time, Malygris believed what he was saying.