Sea of Death: Blade of the Flame - Book 3 (34 page)

But as the two started toward their friends, they heard a shuffling sound coming from behind. They turned to see Leontis walking unsteadily toward them. The priest was naked, his skin bright pink like a newborn baby’s, and he was completely bereft of body hair.

“I appreciate the prayers, Diran, but as you can see they were, unfortunately, a bit premature.”

“Why didn’t you tell us he was a werewolf?” Ghaji demanded. The half-orc’s teeth were clenched, and his voice was pitched dangerously low.

“I don’t blame you for being angry with me, but please try to understand. Leontis asked that I keep his condition a secret. It was a request I was bound to keep, both as a priest and a friend.”

The companions continued onward. Diran had joined Ghaji at the head of the line, and the others had fallen back a few yards, sensing the two needed a bit of privacy so they could talk. They’d scrounged together some clothing for Leontis, and now the priest wore a pair of Tresslar’s extra undergarments and Ghaji’s travel cloak. The clothing was poor protection against the night’s chill, but Leontis didn’t seem to notice. The other companions kept their distance from the priest as they traveled, eyeing him with suspicion and, in the case of Tresslar and Yvka, outright hostility. Though Leontis was in human form, his curse was revealed by how swiftly he was healing. His hair and eyebrows were already starting to grow back, though it would likely be some time before his beard filled in again. His longbow and arrows had been destroyed in the fire, and he no longer carried any weapons, but that hardly seemed to matter since Leontis was a weapon in and of himself.

Diran marveled at the healing powers of Leontis’s curse. The fire must have charred his body to a crisp, and yet he was now whole and seemingly none the worse for wear. Even the healing magic granted by the Silver Flame would have been hard-pressed to restore someone
who’d suffered such severe burns, especially in such a short time. Diran wondered if Leontis healed so quickly because the werewolf who had infected him had carried an especially powerful strain of lycanthropy or if the healing magic Leontis had learned as a priest of the Silver Flame had somehow combined with his lycanthropic abilities to help restore him to full health so swiftly. The latter possibility raised some intriguing—and disturbing—notions. Could evil and good co-exist within the same individual in some sort of balance? More, could those opposing forces somehow complement each other, becoming stronger than either could be on its own?

“You put us all at risk by not telling us the truth,” Ghaji growledd, not mollified in the least by Diran’s words. “What if Leontis had changed one night during the voyage on the
Turnabout?
How many men and women might he have slain—or worse, infected with his curse—before we could’ve stopped him? You should have at least told Solus. He could’ve kept an eye on Leontis and let us know when he was about to change.”

Diran wanted to explain his reasoning to Ghaji, but he realized that his old friend was correct. Diran hadn’t really considered all the ramifications of allowing Leontis to come with them. He had told himself that he’d invited Leontis along because of the visions of the future revealed to him by the Fury-demon, and that was true enough as it went. But the real reason—the deepest reason—was far simpler, and it had blinded Diran to the threat presented by Leontis’s curse.

“He’s my friend, Ghaji. Leontis and I were once as close as you and I are. I … wanted to give him the opportunity to come to terms with his condition, to give him a second chance. Tusya gave me a second chance when he drove the dark spirit from my soul and taught me the ways of the Silver Flame. Could I do no less for Leontis?”

“Or Makala?” Ghaji said with a grudging smile. “Or me, for that matter, when you found me working as a disillusioned, cynical brothel guard?”

Diran smiled. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re still quite cynical, though I hope somewhat less disillusioned.”

The two friends looked at each for a moment, and then Ghaji sighed.

“What’s done is done. Let’s speak no more of it. But I think we should ask Solus to monitor Leontis’s thoughts—as a precaution.”

“And a wise one at that. I’m sure Leontis will understand. I’ll inform him while you speak with Solus.”

The two friends broke rank to do so, and as Diran surmised, Leontis had no objection to the psiforged’s mental scrutiny.

“I do have one question,” the priest said. “My memories of the battle with the shadowclaws are fragmentary at best, but Thokk’s death …”

“Was at the hands of the dark beasts, not yours,” Diran said.

“Thank the Flame,” Leontis whispered.

The companions continued on their way, but Diran noticed how everyone glanced uneasily at Leontis from time to time, as if expecting him to grow fangs and sprout fur any moment. Diran supposed he didn’t really blame them.

Once again the party relied on those members with night vision to guide their way. They left behind the burned area of the forest caused by Tresslar’s blast, and the going was slow once again. The companions made their way through the thick tree growth and kept close watch for any signs of danger. Tresslar no longer bothered trying to detect the dragonwand. He explained that the process by which he’d converted the revealer into an enhancer couldn’t be reversed, at least not with the tools and materials at his disposal. He was, however, attempting to think of a way to repair Ghaji’s elemental axe.

Tresslar worked through the problem by whispering to himself, speaking more for his benefit than any of theirs. “If the fire elemental is merely injured, it might be possible to restore it to full strength. But if it’s dead, then there’s nothing else that can be done but bind a new elemental to the axe. Provided I can find the time and energy to summon one, that is. Perhaps I could make use of the enhancer to …”

The companions blocked out Tresslar’s monologue as they marched and soon, almost without realizing it, they found themselves leaving the forest. The night sky spread about above them, stars and moons bright and sharp as new-cut crystal. The ground was devoid of vegetation, barren and rocky, and in the nearby distance black hills rose up, forbidding shadows that blocked the horizon.

“These are the hills where Paganus’ cave is located,” Tresslar said. “I’m sure of it!”

They all were, for their path had been implanted in each of their minds by Solus. They had reached the dragon’s lair at last.

T
he companions climbed the sloping hillside and entered the tunnel leading to Paganus’s lair. The tunnel was wide enough for the group to walk in rows of three: Ghaji, Diran, and Tresslar in front; Yvka, Onu, and Asenka in the middle; Hinto, Solus, and Leontis in the rear. From Tresslar’s memory of the place—a memory Ghaji now shared—the half-orc knew they had almost reached the cavern where Erdis Cai, Tresslar, and a handful of sailors from the
Sea Star
had once battled the dragon. The glowing mold clinging to the walls here was a dead giveaway. All they had to do was go around the bend just ahead.

The cavern was huge, lit by luminescent substance covering both the stalactites and stalagmites. The dim greenish glow given off by the mold revealed no sign of life. However, that didn’t mean the cavern was free of danger.

Ghaji detected the stink of poison gas before any of the others, and the half-orc quickly called the party to a halt.

“I thought you told us the dragon died forty years ago,” he said to Tresslar. “From the smell, I’d say he’s still very much alive and breathing.”

The artificer looked at Ghaji with concern. “Are your eyes burning? Are you having trouble breathing?”

“I can’t say it’s the most pleasant smell I’ve ever encountered, but it’s tolerable enough.”

Tresslar’s relief was clear in his voice. “Good. Let us know if you begin experiencing any discomfort. The fumes emitted by a green dragon are highly toxic, and breathing them is a quick way to an agonizing death.”

Onu’s eyes widened. “Do you really think the dragon might still be alive?” He peered into the cavern’s gloom, as if he were hoping to see a green dragon come charging at them any instant.

Ghaji grimaced in irritation. Of the two personae the changeling had revealed to them so far, he much preferred Onu’s natural one. It was the quieter of the pair—not to mention the less obnoxious one.

“I don’t see how,” Tresslar said. “Paganus was clearly dead when we departed his lair. I suppose it’s possible he was restored to life somehow, but someone or something else would’ve had to do perform the deed, especially as the dragon no longer had possession of the Amahau.”

“Before the shadowclaws attacked, Tresslar’s revealer indicated his dragonwand lay somewhere ahead of us,” Yvka said. “That could mean Nathifa reached the lair before we did.”

“Traces of the lich’s foul presence linger here,” Diran said. He looked to Leontis for confirmation, and his fellow priest nodded. “I am certain Nathifa was in the cavern, but as yet I cannot tell if she remains nearby.”

“But if she
was
here—” Yvka began.

“The lich might have resurrected Paganus,” Ghaji finished. He turned to Diran. “Is it possible?”

“Liches are powerful sorcerers, so Nathifa undoubtedly has a great deal of mystical knowledge to draw upon,” Diran said. “But to resurrect a being forty years after its death would require magic of an extremely high order. I’m not certain she’s capable of that.”

“She
does
have Tresslar’s wand,” Hinto pointed out.

“The Amahau could easily provide the lich with enough mystic energy to fuel such a spell,” Tresslar said.

“Before we go further into the cavern, Solus should scout ahead using his psionic abilities,” Diran said.

The psiforged nodded and stepped for the forefront of the group.
The crystals covering the construct’s surface began to pulse with a soft inner light as he mentally surveyed the cavern.

Several moments passed, and then Solus said, “I detect
something
, but I’m uncertain what it is. It’s not precisely intelligent in and of itself, but it does possess a rudimentary—”

That’s as far as the psiforged got before an ebon serpent dropped from the ceiling and wrapped itself around the construct’s neck. It bit down on the top of Solus’s head, its curved black fangs penetrating as easily as if the psiforged were made of butter instead of stone and starsilver. The serpent’s eyes were a burning crimson, and they flared bright at the creature clamped its jaws tight onto Solus’s skull. The psiforged stiffened, and his eyes changed from a glowing green to a baleful vermillion, just like the serpent’s fiery orbs.

Diran drew a silver dagger from his inner cloak and lunged forward to strike at the serpent coiled around his companion’s neck. At the same instant, Ghaji swung his axe at the giant black snake, not worrying about what might happen if he accidentally struck the psiforged a glancing blow. Solus might lose a chunk of rock from his shoulder, but he wouldn’t suffer an injury the same way a being made of flesh and blood would.

But before either the priest or the half-orc could hit the serpent with their weapons, the psionic crystals on Solus’s body began to emit crimson light, and the two companions found themselves thrown backward, as if both had been struck by a pair of invisible fists.

Yvka caught Ghaji beneath the arms, her elvish strength belying her petite frame, and Leontis caught Diran.

“Whatever that serpent is, it’s taken control of Solus’s psionic powers!” Tresslar said. “We must put as much distance between us and the psiforged as we can before—”

“Something like
that
happens,” Hinto said, pointing behind them.

The others turned to see a dragon coming toward them. No, not a dragon, but rather the skeleton of a dragon, moving with an eerie liquid grace.

“Diran!” Leontis shouted. “I cannot turn it!”

Ghaji assumed Leontis had lost his silver arrowhead during the
fireblast in the forest when his clothing had burned. Perhaps the intense heat had even melted the token.

“I don’t think that thing’s a normal animated skeleton,” Asenka said. “If there
is
such a thing. Look at it. There are spaces between the bones. They’re not connected.”