Troy Denning - The Siege

"The Shadovar have betrayed us. Take who you can save and flee." Though she spoke softly, Laeral's voice would be heard by every commander and wizard in her army, save those who had fallen under the mental sway of the enemy-she had designed the spell with the phaerimm in mind. "We'll form again at the Halfway Inn. May the gods speed you."

From behind her came the sound of chiming steel as someone approached across the carpet of fallen blades. She turned and glimpsed the hulking form of a Vaasan running in her direction-then cried out in confusion as his sword came tumbling at her. She twisted away and instinctively raised her arm, but trying to block a dark-sword was a bad idea even for one of the Chosen.

A wave of searing cold shot up her arm, and the limb went numb below the elbow. She cried out more in shock than pain and dropped to her knees and nearly fainted when she saw her hand and forearm lying on the carpet of swords in front of her. The black blade that had severed her arm lay a pace or so away, wet with her blood. The darksword rose into the air and started to float back in the direction from which it had come.

Laeral turned her head and saw Burlen's hulking form striding toward her, his hand stretched toward the floating sword. Too dazed to understand why he had attacked her, she nevertheless knew that she had to stop him before he did it again. She reached into her cloak for a spell component-then experienced a wave of excruciating pain and recalled she was reaching with a stump. She reached with her other hand, but the angle was awkward and the movement unfamiliar. Burlen was almost on her by the time she found what she was searching for. The Vaasan raised his darksword and said, "Your fault."

Laeral pulled the iron bar from her pocket and pointed it in his direction. The steel carpet chimed again as another hulking form came rushing up behind the Vaasan. Burlen dropped to a crouch and started to spin, only to have his guard kicked aside by a big Vaasan boot. "Kuhl?" Burlen gasped. "What are you-?"

The pommel of Kuhl's sword caught Burlen at the base of the jaw, lifting him off his feet and dropping him flat on his back in the carpet of swords. Kuhl took a moment to make sure his comrade was out cold, then turned to Laeral-who, still in shock and uncertain of what was happening-was pointing the iron bar at him.

"My apologies, Lady Arunsun. There are infiltrators everywhere." He tucked a pair of phaerimm tails into his belt, then picked up Burlen's sword and sheathed it in his own scabbard. "Can you stand?"

Laeral tried and nearly passed out. "No." She pocketed the iron bar, then extended her hand. "Set me over there with Burlen and hold us tight." "Hold you, Milady?"

Laeral nodded. "For your life." She pointed at her amputated arm. "It could be a rough ride to the Halfway Inn."

A raw potato in one hand and a drawn throwing dagger in the other, Galaeron stepped off Aris's upraised palm directly onto the sill of the third-story lodging chamber Vangerdahast was using as a council room. The half-dozen war wizards gathered around the table cried out in surprise and reached for spell components, and one actually stood, pointing at the window and opening his mouth to loose a spray of magic bolts. Galaeron bounced the potato off the fellow's head, shocking more than knocking the wizard back into his seat, then turned his attention toward a large blonde woman holding a finger-length cylinder of glass.

"You don't want to point that in my direction," he said, raising his throwing dagger. "This is my good hand."

Vangerdahast, sitting with his back to the window, sighed heavily. He motioned his war wizards to their seats, then braced his elbow on the armrest and turned to look at Galaeron. "Surely, you can see we're in a conclave?"

Galaeron lowered the dagger. "So the door guards informed me, but the interruption will be a short one. I have only one question: is it true?"

A murmur of alarm rustled around the table, and Vangerdahast closed his eyes and nodded. "I fear so."

Galaeron's heart sank. He could not bear to think of Vala in that place, being abused in that manner. He stepped to Vangerdahast's side.

"Why wasn't I told?" he demanded. "Why did I have to find out through palace gossip? If this is another of your bids to inveigle me into using shadow magic…"

"That would be your fourth question, if a question it is," Vangerdahast interrupted. He pointed at the wall, and a chair walked over to place itself behind Galaeron. "Have a seat and explain what you mean by palace gossip. Surely, the whole palace can't know so soon?"

"The whole city knows, as far as I can tell. I heard it from a gate guard." Galaeron ignored the chair. "What I want to know is why wasn't I told? Were you afraid I'd go back to the enclave?"

Vangerdahast cocked his bushy brow. "Actually, that's the last thing I would have expected from you," he said, "but the fact of the matter is that we only found out ourselves a few minutes ago. I was about to send for you to see if you might have any thoughts on their departure." "Departure?" Galaeron asked. "Whose departure?"

A twinkle of comprehension came to Vangerdahast's eyes. "Then you didn't know," he said. Several of the wizards sighed in relief. "The Shadovar have left the Sharaedim-sneaked out in the middle of the night Laeral's relief army was decimated, and she was horribly wounded."

Galaeron sat-fell, actually-into the chair. "What?" he gasped. "Is Keya-?"

"The mythal wasn't breached," offered the woman Galaeron had threatened with the throwing dagger. "Your sister and everyone inside Evereska are no worse off than before-better, in fact, since they've been reinforced and resupplied-but with the relief army decimated and Laeral wounded, the phaerimm will be free to focus their attention on the city again."

Vangerdahast laid a wrinkled hand on Galaeron's arm. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you what the shadowshell is doing to the mythal. If you know of anything Storm and the other Chosen can do to breach it…"

"The magic must be renewed," Galaeron said. "All they need do is keep the Shadovar away from the Splicing. The bonds will weaken over time, and Weave magic will start to flow into the Sharaedim again."

Vangerdahast sighed in relief. "Good. Then our only problem is the additional magic the extra troops will require when the Heartland Alliance attacks the flying city." He looked around the table. "I think we can take this redeployment as Telamont Tanthul's answer to our demand that he stop the melting of the High Ice." "Actually, no," Galaeron said. "This is about me."

The looks that came to the faces of the war wizards made clear what they thought of the theory.

"It is," Galaeron insisted. "I came here because there are rumors about that Vala has been made Escanor's bed slave. They abandoned Evereska to punish me for leaving Shade."

"You have an awfully high opinion of your worth," said the wizard Galaeron had hit with the potato. "I don't suppose they could be consolidating their forces to defend against an attack from the Heartland Alliance?"

Vangerdahast cleared his throat and said, "The elf may have a point. There are certain, um, secrets in his possession that they may desire to recover."

Vangerdahast and Alusair had elected to hold close the fact that Melegaunt had imbued Galaeron with a vast knowledge of the phaerimm, lest the thornbacks have spies in the Arabel palace.

"The damage he caused them by revealing the shadow blankets was immeasurable," the royal magician continued. "They may very well be doing this to punish him-and to force him to return to Shade."

"Or to force you to turn me over," he said, "and to punish you for harboring me-and daring to threaten them."

Vangerdahast scowled. "Punish us? They couldn't possibly-"