“ Pfft.” The little pseudodragon that curled around his shoulders raised her head. “I would never say such a thing.”
“Thank you, Splendid,” said Tempest, her voice as icy as her gaze was fiery.
“A bag wouldn’t cover your tail.” Splendid stretched grandly and rearranged herself.
Tempest’s eyebrows rose even higher. Her lips tightened until they were almost white. Albanon felt himself shrivel under her gaze-until she laughed abruptly, genuine amusement putting a smile on her face.
“You should see yourself,” she said. “Albanon, I’m a tiefling. If I worried about people judging me by my appearance, or what they think of me, I’d never go out my door.”
A flush warmed Albanon’s cheeks. “But friends aren’t supposed to say things like that.”
“I know you didn’t mean it.” Tempest regarded Splendid. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if she did.”
The pseudodragon let out a derisive snort but didn’t stir from the comfort of her new position. Albanon allowed himself a tentative smile as well. “Still-”
“Still, nothing,” said Tempest, moving on along the street. “Let it go. I’m just glad you agreed to come out of that study. You look like you’ve hardly slept lately. We may need all the help we can get when we face Vestapalk, but too much study has its dangers.” She looked back at him. “I think we can learn that lesson from Kri.”
Albanon’s belly tightened. “That’s not a lesson I’m going to forget,” he said immediately, and perhaps a little too harshly. Tempest glanced at him.
“I’m almost sorry I never met the old priest,” she said. “To come here and win your trust, then to turn on you and his god… you might say it wasn’t his fault, that something he found drove him mad and made him renounce Ioun, but I’ll tell you this.” She paused and faced him, dropping her voice. “In my experience, anyone who has ever been seduced by power gave it the first toehold willingly.”
“I understand what you mean,” Albanon told her.
“Do you? Kri turned to Tharizdun, Albanon. The god of madness and annihilation. The Chained God, imprisoned by the other gods for creating the Abyss. Kri may have started looking for a way to defeat Vestapalk and the Voidharrow, but he ended up trying to set Tharizdun free.”
“I stopped him.”
“But you still spend your time poring over the same books, looking for the same answers.” Tempest searched his eyes. “Let me help you,” she said. “I may not have studied under a wizard, but I’m not illiterate or stupid. Two of us working together can search twice as fast-and we can keep watch on each other.”
“Can you read Elven?” Albanon asked. When Tempest blinked, he shook his head. “I’m careful, Tempest, and I’m searching as quickly as I can. I want to be on the road after Vestapalk as much as any of us. Don’t worry, I’m not Kri.” He smiled, then nodded along the street to a human woman in the light armor of the Fallcrest Guard distributing blankets to refugees. “There’s Belen.”
Tempest turned away, reassured or at least distracted. Albanon let her get a pace or two ahead of him, then slumped and let out a shallow sigh of relief. A sigh that caught in his throat as Splendid murmured, “I’m astounded anyone believes your lies.”
He flinched. He could just see the pseudodragon looking up at him from his shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said calmly.
Her little eyes narrowed. “Twice a liar for denying it. You’re afraid. You’re afraid of Vestapalk. You’re afraid of what you’ll find in the Plaguedeep.”
“I’m not.”
“Three times a liar.” Splendid uncoiled herself from around his neck. “You can’t fool me, Albanon. I’ve known you since you came to the great Moorin as an apprentice. When you decide to tell the truth-to yourself if no one else-I’ll be waiting back at the Glowing Tower.”
Her claws dug into his shoulder for a moment as she leaped, then her fine, leathery wings spread wide and beat against the air. Splendid soared up, banking against the sky and heading back along the brow of the Fallcrest bluff.
The relief Albanon had felt for one brief moment turned into a knot in his chest. Six nights before, he and Kri had returned from a journey to the Feywild and the tower of Sherinna, one of the founders of the Order of Vigilance and Albanon’s own grandmother. Kri’s divinations in the Feywild, an attempt to locate the bodystealing demon Nu Alin, had led them back to Fallcrest and an old ruined tower reputed to be haunted. The ruins had indeed been haunted-not by ghosts, but by a cult of the Elder Elemental Eye, the common name by which Tharizdun beguiled his would-be followers. Something had happened in that dreadful place, though. They went in looking for Nu Alin, who was a priest of Tharizdun before the Voidharrow turned him into a demon, and emerged with Kri raving mad and Albanon a near helpless thrall to his power.
Kri led him through the very heart of the demon attack to the tower that had belonged to Albanon’s murdered master, Moorin. There, where Moorin had been slaughtered, Kri attempted the same ritual Nu Alin once had, utilizing a fragment of ancient crystal to open a gate to the sealed plane where Tharizdun was imprisoned. Unlike Nu Alin, Kri succeeded. The eye of the Chained God peered through the gate and for the first time in hundreds of years, his power had touched the world. Albanon barely recovered himself in time to prevent more than Tharizdun’s gaze from passing through the portal. Using his magic, he changed the gate’s focus, slamming the door on Tharizdun’s prison and opening a new one to summon allies, huntsmen from the Feywild, to fight against Kri.
The embattled priest had escaped through the gate, changing its destination once more and shattering it behind him. He might have gone anywhere, but at least he wasn’t in Fallcrest. Tharizdun remained imprisoned and the world had only the Abyssal Plague to worry about once more.
At least, that was what he had told the others…
No, he told himself before his thoughts could turn in a more dangerous direction. Do not think it. Do not remember it.
Up ahead, both Shara and Belen had lifted their faces to watch Splendid’s flight, then turned to look at him. Albanon put a sheepish grin on his face and hurried to catch up to them. “Sorry, just a little argument. You know how she is.”
Tempest grunted, too familiar with Splendid’s moods not to accept the explanation. Belen gave an uncertain nod, not familiar enough to deny it. She was a hardened woman, a soldier by training, somewhat older in human years than either he or Tempest. She looked awkward with the blankets in her arms, as if she’d rather be keeping order among the crowds of refugees than distributing comfort to them. But then, Albanon didn’t think he’d seen her look anything but awkward over the past few days. He smiled at her warmly and asked, “How are you, Belen?”
“I’m still in Fallcrest when there’s a demon-dragon to kill and I still have dreams of the world dissolving into fire and red crystal ooze. Thank you for asking,” the lieutenant said, her voice like stone. “But when are we leaving?”
He should have been prepared for her bluntness. “Soon,” he told her. This lie came harder, a deliberate falsehood rather than an omission. “I just need to find something that will help us stop Vestapalk-”
“Searching isn’t doing. I see him, Albanon.” Belen ground the knuckles of her free hand against her forehead, her voice harsh.
A burst of anger broke over Albanon. First, Tempest had pushed him, then Splendid… He caught Belen’s hand and dragged it down. “Then you don’t understand what we’re facing,” he said. “This isn’t going to be like breaking up a tavern brawl or bringing down some bandits.” He glared at Tempest. “This isn’t going to be like anything else we’ve gone against before, either.”
Belen’s face wrinkled and she twisted her hand sharply. Albanon’s wrist bent painfully and abruptly he was the one being held. Belen shoved her face into his. “Don’t try to tell me I don’t understand what we’re facing. You never had that thing inside you. How do you know what we’re going to face?”
“Belen.” Tempest’s face was hard, but her tone was calming. The warrior woman scowled, then turned Albanon loose. He stepped back, rubbing his wrist. Tempest looked at him. “Well?” she asked.
“Well what?”
“I think we deserve an answer. How do you know what we’re going to face? Have you found something in those books after all?”
Anger and beligerence faded sharply. “A… little,” he said, fumbling for an explanation. “Not enough to have answers, only enough to know that Vestapalk is more powerful than last time we faced him. And that the Plaguedeep isn’t like anything else in this world. What’s in the books is only a start. Combined with what you and Belen experienced…”
