The Gossamer Plain (7 page)

Though the vestigial appendages inherited from his draconic father did not enable Myshik to truly fly, they were sufficient in size to allow him to glide a fair distance, and with their aid, he was able to navigate the boundary, landing in a trot on the far side.

Heaving one deep sigh of relief, Myshik settled easily into stride and approached the massive portcullis. He examined the braces to reassure himself that they were secure. He grasped one of the braces with both hands and shook it, testing. It groaned and seemed to shift ever so slightly, and the portcullis did, too. A smattering of dust sifted down from above, but the braces held.

Myshik gave the tremendous gate one last wary look, then darted beneath the huge bars and passed beyond the portal into the prodigious space beyond.

On the other side of the gate, Myshik’s light proved inadequate to illuminate the entire chamber. The half-dragon could barely discern the far reaches, but his crystal was bright enough for him to see that the structure of the cavern ascended in grand scale. The dwarves had adapted their architecture to suit the shape of the chamber, which was not even or smooth, but sloped upward, like the side of a miniature mountain filled with ridges and draws. The space had been tiered, like a great rippled ziggurat, rising up to prominences at the far end. All of it was stout stone, crafted for stability. The dwarves had given little care to decoration; instead, the place exuded practicality.

From his study of old maps of the region, Myshik suspected he knew where he trod. He had reached an outpost, a peripheral bastion of defense against the dark things that tended to ascend from the Underdark. Beyond the upper limits of the chamber, the corridors and halls beneath Sundabar waited.

Without warning, Myshik felt a presence in his mind. It was powerful, familiar. It was Father.

Myshik, the great blue wyrm Roraurim’s voice said, penetrating his offspring’s skull. Myshik, answer me.

“I am here, Father,” the half-dragon responded. “How may I serve you?”

I see you, the dragon’s voice said. You are near the city of Sundabar.

“Yes,” Myshik answered. “Below it, actually.”

Good, Roraurim said. I have a job for you. My brother, your uncle, has entered into a pact with the fiends disgorged from Hellgate Keep. You must find their leader, a cambion demon named Kaanyr Vhok. Go to him, and offer yourself in service to him.

“I don’t understand, Father,” Myshik said. “Do we not hate the creatures that invade our mountains? Why would Uncle Nahaunglaroth do such a thing?”

Yours is not to understand—only to obey.

“Yes, Father. Of course,” Myshik bowed his head in subservience. “Command me.”

Go and do as I have said. You will accompany this cambion on a journey. Aid him, defend him from his enemies. When you have his confidence, this is what you are to do….

When Myshik’s father, the great Roraurim, finished, “Myshik smiled and said, “Yes, Father. It will be as you say.”

I have faith in you, my son. And the voice was gone.

Fearing that his light might betray his presence, Myshik wrapped the crystal again and tucked it into a pocket. After spending a moment adjusting to the darkness, the half-dragon advanced, picking his way toward the first of a series of sloping pathways leading higher into the stronghold.

They were the first steps of a new journey, a new quest.

Aliisza lay very still and listened to Helm Dwarf-friend snoring softly next to her. The man’s breathing was slow and steady, a familiar sound. She knew he was truly asleep. She rose up on her elbow and peered at the Master of Sundabar in the dim light of the lone lamp burning on the table nearby. The ex-mercenary’s face was lined with age and the weight of responsibility, even in sleep. His hair and beard, still thick and worn in braids like the northmen, had as much gray as red in it. His frame still bulged, but as much paunch as muscle was evident. He was no longer the young man the people of Sundabar had embraced so many years before, the stout warrior and battle captain of the Bloodaxe mercenary company who had saved the city from destruction first, and corruption afterward. Time and care had stolen his vibrant youth from him.

It would not be difficult to turn the people away from a man who looked as tired and infirm as Helm Dwarf-friend. They would need only a little nudge and a more capable alternative to see the truth. An alternative who looked young and handsome, like Dwarf-friend had twenty years or more ago. Someone like Kaanyr Vhok.

Careful not to disturb the sleeping master, Aliisza rose from the bed. She took up her nightdress from the floor, where Helm had carelessly tossed it aside. She did not don it immediately, but instead moved toward the mirror above the washbasin to gaze at the reflection of the innocent girl who would betray a city. The impish face that stared back at her smiled in satisfaction, with a hint of smoldering lust.

I’ll hand that to him, the alu thought. He’s got an excellent eye for beauty. Aliisza turned herself back and forth, appraising her shape and curves, her head cocked to one side. Hells, I’d bed Ansa, too, she thought with a grin. She giggled, softly so that she wouldn’t wake the man.

Aliisza wriggled herself into the nightdress and moved to the door leading into the master’s study. She pulled it open, being careful not to make noise, and slipped outside.

The study was a mess, as usual, and it was ostensibly Ansa’s job to straighten it. But Aliisza conveniently avoided the task as much as possible. She wanted to perpetuate the image of an overwhelmed, disorganized leader, but she also detested such menial chores. Despite the chaos in the room, she had a very good idea where everything was, and she had taken advantage of the master’s long days attending to the duties of office to sift and sort through it all, gleaning as best she could how the man tried to run the city.

She had even begun, very slowly, to make changes to some of his official documents. Requisitions, records of accounting, even specifications for equipping and deploying the watch received adjustments. Always subtle, the changes effectively weakened the city in some small way, or created confusion in some warehouse or barracks. Slowly, inconspicuously, Aliisza was undermining Dwarf-friend’s rule, making it appear that he was beginning to lose his ability to do so effectively.

The alu moved to a pile of military supply requisitions

and sat down to examine them. Outwardly, she claimed to Dwarf-friend to be sorting and filing the stack, but in truth, she poured over it for details on Sundabar’s martial might. Already she had found ways in which she could shortchange both the Shieldsar, Sundabar’s army, and the Stone Shields, the city watch. It would be a long, tedious process, but within a few months, the half-fiend would have substantially weakened both forces. More importantly, she would make Helm Dwarf-friend look the fool. Watch commanders were already sending curt notes from time to time, complaining to the master that needed provisions were in short supply and not being replenished when expected. Aliisza was intercepting the messages, though, and Helm never saw them.

The alu sat down lazily, thinking to spend some time at her subversive task, but a premonition, a familiar tingling sense of danger, washed over Aliisza and froze her in place. She recognized the subtle, almost subconscious augury. Such signals coursed through her from time to time, warning her of impending peril. Her intuition was an inherited gift from her demonic mother, and she knew better than to ignore it. Right then, she felt as though she were being watched.

She scanned the room, looking for some sign that her premonition was warranted. The alu’s gaze penetrated every corner, every shadow within the ill-lit study. She sought any potential hiding place, but the furniture was sparse and functional rather than posh, and there was no place for someone to conceal himself.

What is it? the alu wondered, shivering. What am I not seeing? Remembrance made her breath catch. Pharaun’s ring!

Without looking down, Aliisza brought her hands together and felt for the trinket. The strange signet ring encircled the fourth finger of her right hand. She knew it

granted her a preternatural ability to recognize magical emanations, but in the couple of months since she had claimed it from the drow wizard Pharaun Mizzrym’s remains, she had not grown accustomed to drawing on its power. Brushing aside the self-chastisement of not thinking of it sooner, the half-demon summoned the wizardry of the ring and focused her attention all around the chamber, seeking the telltale signs of dweomers.

Magical emanations of various hues and strengths exploded in her vision from numerous points. A set of bound scrolls on a bookcase glimmered with arcane radiance. A cane leaning in a corner burst into light. And the shield that hung over the mantle radiated power, too. But the source right in front of her caught Aliisza’s attention.

A single figure standing near the hearth erupted into a dazzling display of glowing radiance. Myriad magical colors shimmered around it, outlining the form and revealing it as a human-sized male. He stood very still, tucked half behind the fireplace, seemingly watching her. He had taken great pains to keep from being spotted or heard, drawing on magical invisibility and uncanny silence to remain undetected. He bore numerous defensive enchantments as well as powerful weapons. He was clearly ready for a fight.

Aliisza became aware of all this in the blink of an eye.

Aliisza hesitated. Her instinct told her to draw weapons and attack the trespasser, take him by surprise before he could react, but she also knew Ansa would never do that. She was loath to ruin her carefully planned deception.

Then, in the time it took the alu to wonder whether it was the master or herself being hunted, another wave of subliminal warning washed over her. A hint of light and motion caught her eye, coming from her right. A figure materialized, stepping through a magical doorway in the center of the

room. Multicolored emanations swarmed around him as well, a visual cacophony of magical protections revealed by Pharaun’s signet ring. He immediately waved a wand at her.

Instantly, Aliisza’s surroundings grew unearthly silent. She could not even hear the rush of blood in her ears as her heart pounded.

Me, Aliisza understood in that dreadful instant, knowing most of her spells had just been rendered useless. They’ve come for me. But how? I was careful. So very careful.

And yet someone had ferreted her out. The deception was ruined. Kaanyr’s plan to disgrace Helm Dwarf-friend was lost. Rage coursed through her, made her want to flense someone. The fool with the wand would do nicely.

As Aliisza turned toward the wizard, the door to the outer hall burst open and a third figure entered. It was a woman, heavily armored and radiating powerful magic. She gestured at the disguised alu.

The half-fiend swore, recognizing the divine motions. Time to go, Aliisza decided, feeling concern replace her rage. They aren’t playing games. She began to summon innate magical energy, intending to create an extradimensional portal through which to flee.

She was not quick enough.

A flash of emerald arced across the alu’s vision as a glowing green ray shot from her adversary’s fingers. She twisted around in an attempt to dodge the shimmering energy, but it struck her on the shoulder. Instantly, a glowing field of similar color coalesced all about her. She was surprised to discover that she felt no pain. The beam had not directly harmed her.

In the next breath, Aliisza had her magical doorway created. Without waiting to see what sort of vile magic had ensnared her, she stepped through.

And bounced back.

The doorway would not permit her passage. To the alu, it felt as if she were trying to move into a stone wall. She could sense the magic of it, feel the innate control she had over the portal, even detect the location beyond, where she had anchored the other end of the extradimensional pathway. But she was barred from using it.

Cursing to herself in her soundless state, Aliisza understood the nature of the green magic that clung to her.

They’ve anchored me, she thought as a brief wave of panic washed through her. She forced the abhorrent emotion down. Better cut my way out of here the old-fashioned way, she decided.

The alu shifted into her true form.

The silly wisp of a girl dressed only in a nightshirt vanished. The half-fiend, dressed in sinewy black leather armor and with unfurling black leathery wings, replaced her. Aliisza drew herself up to her full height, giving a disdainful stare at the three adversaries arrayed around her, and jerked free the magical elven blade she wore at her side.

The transition had just the effect the alu wanted. All three of the intruders paused, staring at the fiendish creature before them.

Aliisza took advantage of their startled hesitation and lunged at the wizard with the wand. She felt the blade slip through arcane protection, its own magic overwhelming the cloaking armor surrounding the man. The keen tip of the sword pierced the wizard in the abdomen and doubled him over in a single deadly stroke. The half-fiend yanked the blade free and spun to face her other two opponents, heedless of the man as he crumpled to the floor.

Only then did she spot the fourth figure.

Zasian Menz filled the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and a pompous smile on his face.

“You,” Aliisza snarled, seething, but no sound issued from her, the silence as mocking as the seneschal’s gleeful stare. She wanted to run him through with her blade, to wrap her fingers around his neck and choke the life from him.

Zasian stepped into the room and made a gesture. The alu saw his mouth move as he pointed, directing the two remaining assailants confronting her. The man’s intentions were clear enough, even if his words were lost to Aliisza’s deafened ears. Surround her, do not let her escape. She was the quarry he was after.

To her left, the figure by the fireplace unfurled a weighted net. To her right, the priestess sidestepped, making room for the seneschal to join the fray.

Knowing she was out-muscled and lacking any spells, Aliisza backed away, looking for freedom. She glanced at the window, closed against the cold of night, and wondered if she could bull her way through it. Though Dwarf-friend’s quarters were on the fourth floor of the Master’s Hall, her wings would negotiate the fall and speed the alu to safety. But she would first have to break through the stout wooden shutters.