The Fractured Sky (23 page)

“What do you mean?” Kael asked, finally beginning to catch his breath. “What other reason could he have for torturing those dryads, other than mere capriciousness? That seems counterproductive to his task.” He felt calmer, serene. The battle had been good for him, he decided. A cleansing of the mind to remind him of his purpose.

“Aliisza’s right,” Tauran said with grim purpose. “Zasian is leaving a trail for us.”

“A trail?” the half-drow asked. “Why?”

“Two reasons,” the angel replied. “First, he wants to

make sure we know where he’s going, make sure we can track him.”

Aliisza nodded. “The slaying of the storm dragon right at the portal between the House and here,” she said. “At first, I thought it was just a means of throwing us off the path, but it seemed odd to me that he would do that right there, where we would know which way he departed. Now it seems like a marker, a beacon left for us. Especially because he never bothered to hide his tracks.”

“Left for us?” Vhok asked. His voice was full of doubt. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Tauran said. “But clearly he wants us to follow him. Whatever his plans are, we are a part of them.”

“And what is the other reason?” Kael asked.

Tauran’s face grew grimmer still. “To reveal his power,” the angel said. “To taunt me with the alliance he has formed.”

“What are you talking about?” Vhok asked, impatient. “What alliance? And how do you know this?”

“The shadow creatures,” the deva answered. “They are Shar’s doing. Or rather, the doing of one of her most talented minions.”

“Zasian didn’t do that to them?” Aliisza asked.

Tauran shook his head. “No. I’m sure it was his idea, and part of his greater plan, but the magic was another’s.”

“Who?” Kael asked. “And why does the priest wish us to know it?”

“As I said, to taunt us, I’m sure,” Tauran replied. “To show us his strength. As for who, I know of only one person who is capable of such. Kashada the Nightwraith.”

Kael flinched at the mention of that name. “But she is imprisoned!” the half-drow protested. “Back within the House!”

“Apparently not any longer,” Tauran said.

“By holy Torm,” he murmured. The warrior knew well the story of Kashada the Nightwraith, sometimes called Kashada the Veiled. Renowned as one of Shar’s most deadly assassins and mystics, capturing Kashada had been Tauran and Micus’s biggest triumph—and had come very close to being their downfall. Kael had still been in the early stages of his tutelage among servants of Torm when the two angels managed to ensnare her.

In Sundabar! the knight realized. Kael better understood the angel’s grim expression then. “She was planted,” he surmised. “Just like Aliisza.”

Tauran nodded. “Zasian has been three steps ahead of us for twelve years. And he wants us to know it.” The angel sounded morose.

“Who is this Kashada you speak of?” Vhok asked.

Tauran explained the tale to him. “She was posing as a young girl in the employ of Helm Dwarf-friend. She was also spreading deceit and strife throughout the city and establishing a dark temple dedicated to Shar. At the time, I thought she just got sloppy, but now I see she was supposed to get caught.”

“Wait a moment,” Aliisza said, sitting forward with an incredulous look on her face. “She was pretending to be Ansa?”

Tauran looked at her oddly. “Yes,” he said. “How did you know?”

“That was my cover story! She stole it from me after you, you…”

“Zasian!” Vhok growled. “He knew it, planned it from the start. That bustard set me up so many different ways. But why? Why that?”

Tauran shook his head. “The night I claimed you— claimed Kael, to be precise—you were in Helm’s chambers,

but I had no idea you had been posing as Ansa. You were in your own form.”

“After Zasian and his lackeys intruded, it no longer seemed worthwhile to pretend,” Aliisza said. “And as for why,” she added, turning to Vhok, “what better way to minimize the uproar than to have nothing seem amiss? Replace one false Ansa with another, and Zasian’s got his finger in another pie. Regardless of his intentions for this Kashada to get caught, it was his agent holding Helm’s trust, not yours.”

Kael stared at his three companions, shifting from face to face. He saw his own dismay reflected in each of their expressions. “So what does this mean?” he asked.

The cambion grimaced. “It means they, are a formidable team,” he said. “Whatever they intend to do, it won’t be easy to stop them.”

Tauran drew himself up straight and stood. “Yet we must try.”

Kael shook his head. Noble statements aside, they had to break the cycle of duplicity. “That’s fine, but you said he’s been three steps ahead of us this whole time. Twelve years! So what can we do? How can we get a step ahead of him?”

“You’re right,” Tauran said. “It is time to change our strategy. Too long have we been reacting, following, like his lackeys, each moment doing exactly what he expected. Instead, we must circle around, come at him from ahead.”

“Very well,” Kael said, warming to the idea. “How?”

“Divination,” Tauran answered.

“You said you were no good at it,” Vhok rebutted. “And none of the rest of us are, either. And I don’t see Eirwyn around to do her little trance-thing again, so how do you propose we make that work?”

“Savras,” the angel said. “We must travel to Dweomerheart and consult with Savras.”

Aliisza grimaced. “Taking that path risks losing Zasian altogether,” she said. “It may cost us more than it gains us.”

“If the priest of Cyric truly wishes for us to follow him, we will be able to pick up the trail again,” Tauran said. “And if we are successful, then it won’t matter. We will be ahead of him, waiting for him.”

Vhok shrugged. “Sounds like a plan to me. Anything is better than wandering about, fighting shadow-fey.”

Kael grinned. For the first time, he truly sensed that they were working as a team. Maybe Tauran’s faith in the two half-fiends was not so misplaced, after all.

You would defy this Court?” Micus asked, incredulous. “You would stand before this High Council and refuse to answer the questions put before you? I find that irresponsible, short sighted, and unwise.”

Eirwyn shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “Nonetheless,” she said, “I do not wish to discuss this.”

Micus pursed his lips to contain his anger. He stared hard at Eirwyn, trying to fathom why she would choose to betray herself in the face of almost certain punishments. It made no sense. He could not understand how the elderly deva could hold her loyalty to Tauran above her duty to the law.

The solars sitting on the High Council murmured among themselves. Micus could sense their growing restlessness, perhaps to the point of irritation, with the entire proceedings. He had asked much of them of late, and he suspected their patience with both him and his lack of progress was growing thin. Not only was Eirwyn exacerbating the situation, but she was also putting him in an uncomfortable spot. He felt betrayed.

“Micus,” Eirwyn said in a tone that conveyed her nurturing

instincts, “I know you want to do what’s right, but sometimes, you let your devotion to the balance veil your sight from what’s sensible. Tauran is one of your oldest and closest friends. Why do you not trust him to do what’s right?”

Micus drew a deep breath. “It pains me, Eirwyn, to watch him fling himself into the proverbial Abyss, and I have given him every chance to correct his path, but he has refused. And it is not I who have decreed him outlaw, but this Council.” He gave her a pointed stare to drive home his next point. “The very same Council that holds your own future in its hands.”

Eirwyn drew herself up into a regal pose. Her next words were a bit colder than usual. “I do not answer to this Council. I came here today merely out of a sense of obligation! to you, Micus. And to Tauran. Not because I fall under this body’s jurisdiction. I do not serve Tyr. My loyalty always has been and always will be to noble Helm.”

Micus bowed his head. He did not want to witness what was coming next, but he had no choice. She had to understand.

“The moment the Watcher fell before Tyr’s blade,” the High Councilor said from his position at the middle of the raised dais, “it was decreed that all who had been loyal to Helm would be offered a place under the Maimed God’s protection and guidance. Those who refused would be found guilty of abetting Helm’s own crimes and punished accordingly.”

Micus watched as the other deva’s eyes widened, first in disbelief, then in dismay. He felt a great weight upon his heart. “Tyr has spoken, Eirwyn,” he said. “You cannot hide behind the protection of your abolished faith any longer. Your loyalty to Tauran is not only misplaced, but criminal.”

“I weep for us all,” she said. “Whatever drove the two of them to battle, the outcome has harmed everyone, on both sides. There is no glory in this victory for you.” She bowed her head.

Micus paused, giving her a moment to collect herself. When she looked up again, her eyes were cold and defiant. He could sense that she knew her options were limited, and despite her earlier refusal to adhere to the Council’s demands, Eitwyn still served the law before all else.

“Do what’s right, Eirwyn,” Micus said gently, coming to stand before her. He took her hands in his to show that, despite the harsh circumstances, he still cared deeply for her. “Tell us what you know of his destination.”

Eirwyn smiled then, and her eyes returned to that warm, comforting look. But her words belied her expression. “I told you, Micus, what’s right and what’s lawful aren’t always in accord. The fact that you have yet to learn that very important lesson tells me you didn’t spend enough time with Tauran. Perhaps you are not the friend of his I thought.” With that, she pulled her hands free.

“Nonetheless,” she said, “I hear and obey the ruling of this body. If a law has been established that I am beholden to this Council, then however unjust I perceive it to be, I accept its jurisdiction. You may punish me for my crimes.” She laid her mace down upon the floor at her feet. “May Tyr in his wisdom see fit to overturn your decision.” She bowed her head once more.

“Eirwyn!” Micus said, pleading with her. “This is madness!”

The elderly angel did not answer him, but Micus could see her eyes glisten with the beginnings of tears as an escort of archons led her away.

After Eirwyn departed, Micus turned to face the Court. “I did not expect that,” he said, feeling helpless. “I fear that with Helm’s death the foundations of our society, the very tenets of our existence, have been shaken far more than I believed.”

“Indeed,” the High Councilor said. “This is not a unique case. The entire Court struggles to make sense of the tragedy of the Watchers passing.”

“Without Eirwyn’s knowledge, my hunt is all the more difficult,” Micus said. “How shall I proceed?”

“Eirwyn is not the only citizen of the House with great skill in divination,” the High Councilor answered. “Others have revealed that Tauran and his entourage have crossed— or will very soon—into the realm of Mystra. Therefore, you must travel to Dweomerheart and find them.”

“As you wish and command,” Micus said, bowing his head.

“You will be there as an official emissary, Micus,” the solar said. “You must secure permission from Mystra’s agents to continue your hunt. You may not pursue this agenda independently. Is that understood?”

“Clearly, High Councilor.”

“We have been assured that you will be given full cooperation.”

Micus bowed again then took his leave from the High Council.

He had many things to plan, and he would need help.

“Are you certain there isn’t an easier way?” Kaanyr asked from beside Aliisza. “This is absurd!” Panting, he struggled

to free himself from a bundle of grasses that had wrapped around one leg.

“Certain,” Tauran grunted from the other side of the alu. He pounded the ground with his mace, making the soil jump in rhythm with his blows. “I cannot whisk us there, however much I would like to. My power to do so is a manifestation of Tyr’s benevolence. Since he and I aren’t seeing eye to eye at the moment, he has withdrawn his favor from me. This is the best—and only—path!” He finished with a particularly powerful down-stroke.

Aliisza slashed at another clump of writhing, entwining vines and roots with her sword. Hearing the angel’s explanation in such a casual tone saddened her. He tries to make light of it, she thought, to keep the rest of us focused and moving forward. But he must hurt at such abandonment. Like a parent turning his back on a loving child, she added.

Or her back, the alu reminded herself with a sudden stab of guilt. She turned to look at Kael. Her son was busy cleaving some thrashing bushes that were trying to entangle him. Seems we’re all struggling with the same battles.

Something caught Aliisza’s eye, some movement just beyond where Kaanyr fought alongside her. Behind him, a massive tree leaned forward, limbs splayed out as if to swat at him. Kaanyr, unaware of the danger, continued to cut at the tendrils of growth that entangled him.

“Kaanyr, watch out!” Aliisza shouted. She leaped into the air and flew across the open space between her lover and the animated tree. As she reached the tree, she flipped herself around so that she traveled feet first. She rammed both heels against the trunk in an effort to slow it down.

The blow caused the tree to shiver, but it continued to swing its limbs at her. Aliisza darted and wove around,

narrowly soaring clear of its reach before the thing could envelop her with its flailing branches. But she bought Kaanyr time, and he scurried out of its reach. “Two more!” Kael shouted.

Aliisza hovered in place and looked to where the half-drow pointed. Two more swaying trees waddled toward the group, shuffling their roots through the soil.

What madness is this? she wondered as she settled to the ground near Tauran to help free him from the grasping plant life that ensnared him. Walking trees?

“What in the heavens is going on?” she asked the angel as she helped cut him free.

“The World Tree is angry,” the angel answered as he broke loose from the last of the clinging tendrils. “It doesn’t always like being used as a conveyance, and though it seldom turns on angels, Zasian’s cruel attacks on its denizens must have raised its ire.” He stepped away from the reaching, grasping plants and up onto an outcropping of rock, evading them. “It might even believe we are the cause of its distress. It may sense the fiendish heritage of you, Vhok, and Kael.”