Cry of the Ghost Wolf: Neverwinter NiChosen of Nendawen, Book III (25 page)

His way of escape blocked, Vazhad screamed, “Forgive me!” But he was not speaking to Jagun Ghen. He pleaded to his ancestors, begged any benevolent gods who might be watching. His life was forfeit. He knew that. But he could still save his soul.

Vazhad pushed himself to his feet and shrieked again, “Forgive me!” Then he leaped over the parapet toward the cliffs below.

C
HAPTER
NINETEEN

L
ATE MORNING WAS GIVING WAY TO MIDDAY WHEN
the hobgoblins made their preparations to leave. Maaqua admitted she was still too weak to walk all the way back, but her pride would not allow her to be “carried like a corpse,” as she put it. So her disciples were doing their best to turn the litter into a sort of portable chair. And not having a very successful time of it. They had broken one of the poles in hopes of shortening it to chair-back size, only to find they’d made it too short. Buureg, sword in hand, took two of them back across the bridge into the forest to search for a replacement.

Maaqua sat hunched over by the fire, half-dozing and muttering. Elret was pacing the length of the island, alternately looking to her queen, hoping to be of service, and scowling at Gleed and Hweilan.

On a rock at the very edge of the lake, Gleed kneeled and cursed his fish traps as he pulled them out of the water. Lines and hooks were intact, and several fish had snared themselves on the hooks, but most of the fish had been gnawed away or bitten off just below the head.

“Damned eels,” muttered Gleed. “Thick as gnats this time of year.”

Hweilan cleared her throat. “Gleed?”

He didn’t turn as he ripped off the shredded fish and tossed them back into the lake. “Yes?”

“I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Gleed tossed the line back into the lake and rinsed his hands in the water. “A ‘not-for-eager-ears’ talk, I take it?”

“Yes.”

He stood, retrieved his staff, and walked back toward his tower. “Come.”

But he didn’t go inside right away, as Hweilan had hoped he wouldn’t. Instead, he held his staff in one hand and climbed up the vines on the outside of the tower. Gleed had always amazed Hweilan with his agility, and she often wondered if his hobbling gait on the ground was more of an act than actual necessity.

Hweilan held her bow in one hand—she didn’t trust Elret any farther than she could have thrown Gleed’s tower—and followed her old teacher.

“And where are you two going?” called Elret.

“Hush, girl,” Hweilan heard Maaqua say. “Gleed’s off to his hidey hole so old Maaqua won’t hear.”

A little over halfway up the tower’s length, Gleed stopped and whispered an incantation. The leaves and vines writhed apart, revealing the decaying stone window into the tower. Gleed climbed in, and Hweilan followed. Another few words from Gleed, and the brush closed behind them.

“Light?” said Gleed.

It was black as the bottom of a mountain in the chamber, but Hweilan suspected Gleed had other ways of seeing. “Yes,” she said.

Gleed spoke another minor spell. Light flickered off his staff and caught in the hundreds of symbols decorating the chamber. Many had been painted in ink that reflected light like metal, and others had been etched into the stone itself. Those that shone brightest were the ones made from braided and twisted roots and branches of the vegetation that grew over the floor, up the walls, and hung from the ceiling. It was one of the few places where Gleed felt safe saying anything without fear of being overheard.

Gleed’s milky white eyes caught every sparkle of light in the room, and Hweilan was sure the old goblin could see far more things than she could.

“Something is troubling you,” he said.

“Lendri still won’t talk.”

“Still hiding in his fur?”

“Yes. But Gleed, I’ve been having dreams. Visions.”

“You are the Chosen of Nendawen. This doesn’t surprise me. The Master’s blood courses in your veins.”

“What do you know of Haerul?”

Gleed’s eyes narrowed, and Hweilan saw he was holding his breath. At last the old goblin said, “What do
you
know of Haerul?”

“Ashiin told me of him, once. She said he was once a great warrior who lived in the East and frightened even the fiercest rulers of that land.”

“Ashiin was too modest by half,” said Gleed. “You know of the Witness Cloud, Hweilan. Your ancestors …”

Hweilan remembered the words of her father’s ghost. “Thin is the veil that separates us,” she repeated.

“And it can be torn,” said Gleed. “But that goes both ways, Hweilan. At times, the spirits of the dead may come to our aid. And mortals can sometimes slip into the realms of the dead. Especially in dreams. But you say … Haerul … he sought you out?”

“I saw him as a wolf mostly. But at times he was almost …”

“A sight that would make a khan soil his saddle?”

Hweilan smiled. “Something like that.”

“It sounds like Haerul. But tread carefully, girl. There are other things in the realms of the dead—and not all of them love us. They can deceive.”

“He told me I was dying—which I was. And he started to tell me something about my mother’s father. But then the Master came, and I couldn’t hear Haerul’s words.”

“Then we know no more than we did before. Only that your mother’s father may be the key to …”

“To what I am.”

Gleed scowled at her bluntness, then said, “Yes. But know this. Haerul was the one who banished Lendri, who began his exile. That Lendri has bound himself to you, and now
Haerul comes to you in your dreams … you are a fool if you don’t know this means great things are happening. The fate of your people in this world has come down to you.”

Hweilan swallowed hard. “I know the responsibility I’ve been given.”

“You feel its weight, don’t you?” said Gleed, his voice low and full of compassion.

“I face Jagun Ghen. In only a matter of days, at most.”

“You are afraid?”

“Not … not like you think. I’m not afraid to die.” A short laugh burst out of her but there was no humor in it. “Death would almost be a relief. But I am afraid to fail.”

“You do not stand alone, Hweilan. You are the
Hand
of the Hunter. You are not the whole body. Do your part. That is all anyone can ask of you.”

Gleed looked away and chewed on his bottom lip. Hweilan had seen this many times. Her old teacher was wrestling with whether or not to tell her something. Hweilan let him make up his own mind.

When Gleed finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, just barely short of breaking. “When you face him … when you stand against Jagun Ghen, you must do it when the moon shines full. You must. It is the only hope of the world.” He put one gnarled hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”

“And my mother’s father? You still think—”

“You have eaten the sacred heart, Hweilan.” A shadow of fear passed over Gleed’s face. “You drank the blood and pledged yourself to the Master. Much of his power flows in your veins, in your spirit. But that … presence runs both ways. You must be
very
careful, Hweilan.”

Hweilan held her teacher’s gaze. There was still something he was not telling her. She knew it. “You still think, even if I defeat Jagun Ghen, the Master will destroy me?”

Gleed let go of her shoulder and gave her a playful slap across the arm. “I never said
destroy
, girl. I said the master is a hunter. Nendawen is not evil, but neither is he kind nor benevolent. The hunt is his essence. It is not what he does. It is what he
is
.”

“But you still think there is something about me that he hadn’t bargained for? Something
in
me?”

“I’d wager my good eye on it.”

They sat in silence a while, then Hweilan said, “Thank you, Gleed. I have to go soon. There are others back in that old fortress who need my help. And if half of what she said is true, time is growing short. I have to end this. End him.”

“One more thing, Hweilan. Even if Maaqua agrees to help you—and I think she will—do
not
trust her. You can loose a snake in your house to be rid of the rats, but once the rats are gone, you’ll still have a snake problem. And Maaqua is a mean old snake.”

When Hweilan and Gleed emerged from the tower, Maaqua’s disciples had finished their makeshift chair for the queen and were giving it the first test. It hardly looked comfortable, but it would hold.

“Done with your plotting?” Maaqua said. “I want to be well gone from this place before dark.”

“And I want you well gone long before then,” said Gleed, though Hweilan heard more teasing than contempt in his voice.

“Still not over me, are you?”

“Being over you was fine,” said Gleed. “It was being under you that used to scare the hair off my toes.”

Maaqua threw back her head and cackled so fiercely that her disciples nearly dropped her. Elret looked torn between shock and indignation. Buureg gave Gleed a wicked smile but turned before his queen could see it.

“Come here, girl,” said Maaqua. “I want this old toad to hear what I have to say before I leave.”

Hweilan walked over and stood in front of Maaqua. Elret looked at Hweilan as if she expected her to kneel, but Hweilan kept her feet.

“I have decided to help you,” said Maaqua.

“Help me?”

“Be rid of that thing nesting in your old home. I won’t lie to you, girl, because I know you’re no fool. I had made
up my mind to give that demon what he wants—namely, you—in hopes of buying myself enough time to know how to deal with him. This latest … experience has changed my mind.” The steel and insolence left Maaqua’s countenance, and once again she looked like nothing more than a very old and tired hobgoblin. “There is no dealing with that … thing. Your blood might placate him for a time, but that one has no allies. Or even slaves. Just … prey.”

“No,” said Gleed, his voice grave. “Hunter and prey share a sacred relationship. They serve one another’s purpose. Jagun Ghen”—Maaqua flinched at the mention of the name—“exists only to consume.”

“I’m not here to debate theology with you,” said Maaqua, then she returned her attention to Hweilan. “An army would do you little good, even if I could raise one. But I will aid you and your friends in what ways I can.”

“Thank you,” said Hweilan. But she remembered Gleed’s warning.

Now that they knew where they were going, the hobgoblins proceeded with more eagerness. Though as they walked into the deep gloom of the forest, Buureg kept his sword in hand, and Elret had a tight grip on her staff. Gleed walked just behind Maaqua’s bearers so that they could talk on the way. Despite their constant bickering, both of them seemed to take great pleasure in the conversation.

When they reached the falls, Hweilan retrieved her drum to open the portal. A wicked glint entered the queen’s eye.

“One more thing I haven’t yet told you, girl,” she said. Hweilan said, “Yes?”

“When I was … spying, I did find out one more thing you might be interested in. Your friend Menduarthis … he is still alive.”

“Alive?” said Hweilan. “You’re sure? What is he doing?”