Mistress of the Night (33 page)

"By the power of the Mistress of the Night, I bid you come forth, O beasts of Shadow!"

Around the plinth on which the statue stood, shadows lengthened and deepened, then swirled and condensed. Something within them moved—and five massive dogs came padding silently into the square. Keph shuddered and moved back. The dogs were as black as the night itself, with smooth, shining coats over thick muscles, and malevolent eyes above powerful jaws. And Variance wasn't finished.

"Come forth!" she said. "Come forth! In Shar's name, come forth!"

The black dogs kept coming until eighteen of the beasts squatted and stalked in the square. Even Shar's faithful pressed back from them. One of the dogs growled at Bolan and the priest took a cautious step away.

"Be calm," Variance commanded. "They're shadow mastiffs—our allies." She raised her hands and Keph could feel the power that flowed from her as she made a final call. "Rax! Variance Amatick summons you to Shar's service. Bound by ancient contracts, I call you now. Rax, stand forth!"

The shadows didn't so much condense then as collapse.

The final shadow mastiff to step onto the square was as large as a warhorse and brutally scarred. All of the other dogs looked to it with deference.

Variance held out her hand and said, "I would have you be my lieutenant tonight, Rax. Half of these beasts will be your pack. I ask only that you cause the greatest confusion possible." Her hand swept around the square. "In return I offer three nights hunting upon Faerun with Shar's blessing."

The huge dog's eyes narrowed and it let out a growl. Something about the sound of the black beast struck terror deep into Keph's soul.

Variance nodded calmly and said, "I thank you, Rax. Choose your pack and go. Your territory lies that way."

She turned and pointed—but not toward Moonshadow Hall or even Fourstaves House. She pointed down a third street.

Directly toward the night-crowded maze of the Stiltways.

Rax growled again and trotted off. Nine of the other mastiffs followed. Variance turned to Keph.

"There is your distraction," she said. "You'd best hurry if you want to make the best of it. When you have the tiles, bring them to me at the east wall of Moonshadow Hall. I'll be waiting for you." Keph stared at her. Her eyebrows arched. "Go!" she commanded. Her hand jabbed in the direction of Fourstaves House.

Keph whirled and ran. Behind him he could hear Variance as she called out to the cultists, "Come forward and receive Shar's blessing, for now we join her battle!"

The gout of divine fire lasted only moments, but it left Feena writhing on the floor of the kitchen. Footsteps approached—she forced herself to roll over and raise her head. Velsinore looked down at her. In her hands she clutched a long iron rod, a spit from the kitchen.

"Tell me, Feena," she said. "If Selune is good and Shar

is evil, then why does Selune grant me the power to do this to you?"

Feena looked down at her hands. They were burned red and raw. It hurt to flex her fingers. The sleeves of her robe were smoldering. She groaned and sat back on her heels, looking up at Velsinore.

"I asked myself that question when Mother Dhauna forced me to attack her," Feena snarled. Her lungs burned with every breath. "This is what I think: Selune grants you power, but you choose how to use it. Selune isn't evil. You are."

Rage flared in Velsinore's eyes and she swung the rod with both hands. Feena hurled herself aside, tumbling across the kitchen floor. The rod hit the stone of the floor with a resounding clang. Sparks and chips of stone spat from the impact. Velsinore heaved the rod back up and whirled after her, but Feena rolled back to her feet. One hand grabbed for her medallion.

"Bright Lady of the Night, lay your touch upon me!" she prayed.

Cool magic washed over her, soothing the worst of her burns. Feena gasped in relief and dodged back from another wild swing of Velsinore's rod. She darted swiftly to the side of the big cauldron, putting it between her and the tall priestess.

"You asked me another question," Feena said. "If you're a traitor, why does Selune still answer your prayers?"

"Do you have a homespun answer to that too?" asked Velsinore. She stalked around the cauldron, but Feena just moved with her. "Let's hear it."

"Selune answers your prayers so that you know her power and never forget that she's there for you. She answers your prayers so that one day you will come back to her."

Velsinore's hands slid to one end of the rod and she swept it out in a wide, flat arc. Feena ducked down and let it hum over her head. Thrusting her weight against the cauldron, she sent the huge pot screeching across the floor. Velsinore gasped and stumbled back. The iron

rod went flying from her hands to ring against a distant wall.

Feena darted out. Velsinore had already recovered her balance and stood ready for her. They crouched, circling each other like animals.

"Here's a question for you, Velsinore," Feena said. "If the Sharrans are suddenly your friends and allies, what's going to happen to you when they attack Moonshadow Hall?"

"They won't attack. They're too weak, and Bolan is a coward."

"Bolan doesn't lead them any more in anything but name," Feena reminded her. "Variance does and if she's been manipulating us, she's been manipulating them."

Velsinore's face flushed red. "You're lying," she spat.

"You've deluded yourself." Feena stopped and took a slow step back from Velsinore. "Come back to Selune. You're wrong, but we all mistakes. Find your faith again and-"

"I'm not the one who's wrong and I haven't lost my faith! I never left Selune, you mangy dog!" Her eyes flashed and the fingers of one hand curled into a sign. "By the Moonmaiden's light," she howled, "let your hidden spirit be revealed!"

When Mother Dhauna had spoken the prayer, Feena had been caught off guard by the attack of a beloved friend—but she had been facing a friend. As silver light shot out from between Velsinore's fingers, Feena threw herself away across the floor. Face grim, Velsinore swept the light to follow her. On a long counter, polished pieces of silver plate had been laid out in preparation for a feast that would never happen. Feena hurled herself into the shadow of the counter just as distant shouts of alarm and confusion came echoing through the corridors and into the kitchen.

"... dark mist! There's a cloud of dark mist on the west side of the temple!"

"Take positions. Get the novices to safety. Someone summon the guard!"

"There's still a crowd outside the gates!"

"Do you hear that, Velsinore?" Feena shouted over the top of the counter. "That's your friends coming. That's the Sharrans attacking!"

"Focus, Feena," Velsinore replied. "You've never had focus. The Sharrans aren't fighting me right now. You are."

The bright moonbeam of Velsinore's spell wavered overhead as she slid closer to the counter. Feena watched the shadows dance and drew a deep breath.

"Moonmaiden guide me," she murmured.

She leaped to her feet. Moonlight washed over her, stirring the wolf within and trying to force her body to transform. Teeth clenched, she fought back the transformation as she snatched up a big silver platter from the counter and held it up like a shield.

Reflected moonlight flashed back at Velsinore.

Magic intended to affect a lycanthrope had no effect on her, but the sudden reflection of light was dazzling. Velsinore's free hand shot up to block it and she glanced away out of instinct. In that brief moment, Feena jumped up on the counter and leaped at her with an angry shout.

"Selune!"

Velsinore gasped and tried to duck, but she wasn't fast enough. Feena's arm caught her around the chest. The two priestesses slammed to the floor, locked in struggle. Moonlight winked out. Feena managed to get an arm around Velsinore's neck in a chokehold, but Velsinore slid her arms free. One hand scrabbled for her medallion. Feena growled and snatched at it.

Too late. Velsinore's fingers closed.

"May Selune's touch turn against you!" she gasped with her last breath.

Her arm snapped up, slapping the hard metal of the medallion against Feena's neck just at her shoulder.

Feena screamed as pain split her flesh. Under her robe, she could feel wounds opening, gushing blood. The magic tore into her, sinking deep into her flesh. Something

ripped inside her chest. Her grip on Velsinore loosened. The traitorous priestess started to slip free.

Feena clenched her teeth and tightened her hold, clawing with her other hand for a new grasp on Velsinore's head.

"By my faith and for Mother Dhauna," she gasped, "Bright Lady of the Night give strength to my arms!"

The prayer hadn't even left her mouth before Selune's power descended on her. For just a moment, it seemed that she was whole and uninjured. Magic thundered in her muscles. With a wild cry, she jerked them tight.

Velsinore's head wrenched around and her neck snapped with a loud crack. Her body shuddered once, then went limp.

Heresy died.

Feena clutched a dead weight in her arms. She pushed Velsinore away. The effort sent new pain ripping through her. Feena choked and toppled onto her back. Velsinore's final twisted curse had done something awful inside her. A cough wracked her and she could feel warm blood spatter across her lips. The borrowed strength of the goddess was already slipping away. Like a dream in the distance, she could hear the frightened shouts of Moonshadow Hall—and a sudden fierce cry: the charge of Shar's cult.

Moonshadow Hall needed her, if not as High Moonmistress, then at least as a warrior. She tried to move her arm, to reach for Selune's medallion. She tried to force the words of a prayer—Bright Lady of the Night, lay your touch upon me!—out of her throat.

Her arm didn't move. Her prayer drowned in blood.

ran through streets that seemed darker than he had ever known them. Was it just his imagination or was it some foul magic of Variance's? Did Shar's gaze rest upon Yhaunn? He could almost believe it did. He could almost believe he had brought disaster down on the entire city.

Sweat streamed from his forehead, catching in his eyebrows and dripping into his eyes. It poured down his back. His shirt was plastered to his skin. His breath came in huge, thick gasps. It felt as though his chest was ready to rip itself apart; cramps cut into his sides. Anyone who glimpsed him must have thought he'd gone mad.

He didn't dare to stop or even to slow down. Variance had studied him, and his family, too well. The attack of the shadow mastiffs on the Stiltways would be too much for the city guard to handle, especially combined with an attack on Moonshadow Hall. Faced with a threat to the

city, Strasus Thingoleir wouldn't even hesitate before throwing himself and his entire family into the fight.

It didn't seem possible for his knotted guts to twist any tighter, but Keph could feel them clench with the hollow, watery feeling of new fear. The wizards of Fourstaves House would save many lives in the Stiltways. He knew that. They would drive the black dogs back—but not without risk to themselves. A vision of monstrous Rax flitted through Keph's mind. If Strasus, Dagnalla, Malia, Krin, or Roderio was hurt or killed because of what he'd caused

But he couldn't leave Jarull in Variance's grasp either. His family had a chance at least. They were powerful. They had magic. Jarull was already a prisoner, mad and tortured solely because Variance had needed something to hold over Keph's head.

He choked and tried to run a little faster. You idiot, he cursed himself, you stupid, stupid idiot!

The first deadly howls drifted over Yhaunn from the Stiltways as Keph tore around a corner and sprinted across the small courtyard toward Fourstaves House. The three stone dogs at the door growled and bristled at his sudden approach—Keph didn't think he had ever been so happy to see them. Compared to the shadow mastiffs, they were like puppies! He thrust his hands out for them to smell, but kept moving, reaching for the door before the guardians had fully taken his scent. One of them snapped at him. Keph froze, his chest heaving.

"Hurry!" he implored the stone animals. "Hurry!"

It took only a moment before the dogs relaxed. It seemed like forever. He pushed the door open. The entrance hall was empty, but Fourstaves House was alive with shouts and commotion. Up in the family wing and down along the warded corridor of workshops, doors were banging as the Thingoleir wizards prepared for battle. Keph darted across the hall and threw himself into the shadows of a parlor. Pressed up against a wall, he tried to stifle his panting gasps.

Scant thundering heartbeats later, he heard Strasus's

voice call, "Are we ready?" A small chorus answered him in the affirmative. "Then may Mystra ride with us!"

Keph held his breath as footsteps raced down the grand staircase and across the entrance hall. The door opened—outside, the stone dogs whined in greeting at their master—and closed again. Keph released his breath, slid over to a window, and twitched aside a heavy curtain. Out in the courtyard, Strasus held out his hand and spoke a word of magic. Mist and faint glimmers of light swirled into the form of a silver-gray horse. Dagnalla cast the same spell and the two elder wizards mounted while their children and son-in-law worked magic of their own and rose up into the air.

Strasus urged his phantom horse around to face the mansion. In the window Keph froze, but his father just raised his staff and uttered another magical word—and a command: "Let none enter!"

For an instant, green light shone bright enough to illuminate the courtyard. Lines of magic laced across the window in front of Keph's face then faded—a new ward. He swallowed. Strasus touched heels to his mount's side and pulled on shadowy reins. The apparition reared silently and began to gallop up into the night as if climbing a hill. Dagnalla rode at his side, with Malia, Roderio, and Krin soaring around them both.

The five wizards of Fourstaves House raced off like heroes. Keph turned away from the window and slunk back out into the entrance hall.

Halfway across the hall, an underbutler stopped, startled. "Sir!" he said in surprise. "I didn't realize you were here."