become,' she murmured. 'How did things turn out so… convoluted?'
'Life just has a way of performing such tricks, Aliisza,' Pharaun answered. 'Whether because of the capriciousness of gods or the ambitions of others, you often find yourself tangled in a web of complicated design, wondering how you managed to get there. Look at me. I thought I was destined to rule Sorcere, but I wound up here, sitting in a make-believe enchanted garden, a prisoner of Tyr's servants, all because you decided to save my finger.
'Speaking of which,' the drow said, changing the subject, 'Just what do we expect to happen next? While this is a much improved prison compared to the one I enjoyed as a guest of the Spider Queen, I do not think they intend to leave us here. One of our captors made mention of a trial, I believe?'
'Yes,' Aliisza said. 'We will be called before the High Council, a collection of angels with Tyr's direct ear, to answer for our crimes.'
'Oh, well, that shouldn't adversely affect me much,' Pharaun said. 'I have little to do with this whole affair.'
The drow rose to his feet and looked at Kael. 'I had what could perhaps be called a friend-if drow were inclined to consider such things-back in Menzoberranzan. A blade-master, one with his weapon and all that. You remind me a bit of Ryld. He saved my life a time or two, and I'm afraid I didn't always do my best to return the favor.' Pharaun shrugged.
'Such is the way of my people, you see. But seeing as how you remind me of him, I'll perform the highly unusual act of honoring his memory by giving you some advice I probably should have passed on to him.'
Kael wanted to chuckle. Advice from a father I hardly know? Should I be grateful?
Yet a part of him craved some deeper understanding of his sire. He wanted to see how much of himself might be hidden within the drow.
'Never get caught up too much in duty, honor, and sacrifice,' Pharaun said. 'Not because they're not worth it or because they leave you hollow and wanting in old age.' He drew a deep breath. 'No, it's because those things are inevitably tied to someone else's agenda, my dear boy. And by the time you discover their agenda and yours are no longer compatible, it's usually too late.'
Kael considered the drow's words. 'Are you speaking from experience?' he asked.
Pharaun chuckled. 'Bright lad we've got there, Aliisza. Takes after his father.' He turned to Kael. 'You would think so, based on my sad tale, yes? But no, my woes came about purely because of my own selfish agenda. I got greedy. A far more laudable goal, in my esteemed opinion, but one equally as likely to get you into just as much trouble as duty, honor, and the rest.'
Kael did smile, then.
'Listen, my boy,' the drow said, drawing Kael out of his thoughts. 'I can see you sitting there, trying to decide how much of me is in you, how much of your mother is tucked away in there, and how much of this angel, Tauran, who raised you, truly shaped you. Based on what I've heard tonight, my guess is, you're not certain how you will feel about the answer.'
Kael gave the drow a steady look. 'Very astute,' he said, but inside, his emotions were churning. Who am I? he wondered. What parts of me are really me?
'The truth is, the answer doesn't matter,' Pharaun said. 'At the end of the day, when the tale has been told and your reckoning is at hand, you've still made all the choices. At the end, you've only got one person, and one person only, to answer to. Yourself.' His tone grew a bit wistful. 'I learned that the hard way, standing on that Abyssal Plane as the spiders kept coming.' He blinked and returned his gaze to Kael. 'It's not me, it's not her'-he pointed to Aliisza-'it's not that angel who raised you. It's not even your god. Unless you're satisfied with the choices you've made regarding them and how you choose to deal with them, none of the rest matters.'
Kael spent a long time thinking on what both his father and mother told him, and it was brightening into dawn when he felt himself being drawn away from that illusory place and back into his own body.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tauran opened his eyes. The angel was home. Or at least, in a place that felt very much like home. He found himself in a bed in a chamber of white marble and warm sunlight. The scent of fresh flowers wafted through the room, and he spied several hanging baskets overflowing with green and blossoms. The sound of chirping birds and lazy breezes through wind chimes reached his ears from somewhere beyond the room.
I live, he thought. I don't deserve it, but I live. He pushed the thought that perhaps he didn't wish to remain living out of his mind and sat up.
Tauran drew a deep breath and sighed. His body felt tired but comfortable. He felt no taint of the evil that had pervaded him. Any residual aftereffects of his ordeal within the confines of that black, wicked cave seemed to have vanished.
The physical scars are gone, he thought. Would that it were so easy to heal the mental ones.
He thought of Kael and Aliisza. Did they survive? He wondered. They must have. They were there, with me, in the cold. And… others.
Dissatisfied that he could not remember more of how he had returned to the Court, Tauran rose from the bed, found his clothing-but not his mace-and dressed. Though he missed it, it felt somehow fitting that his badge of honor had been taken from him. Still he felt anxiety. What will they do? What will Tyr decree? There is but one way to find out.
The angel headed for the door. He reached for it, but for some reason, he could not make himself touch the thing. Frowning, he tried again.
They have compelled me, he thought, a flicker of panic rising up inside him.
Tauran turned and moved toward the balcony and the sunlight. He passed through the doorway and out into the warmth. The breezes ruffled his hair. Celestia loomed before him, its high peak hidden in a ring of clouds. Suddenly, he wanted more than anything to go there, to glide along its vast surface, to sail over its valleys and ridges. He willed himself to spread his wings and fly out into the blue skies, to soar high above the clouds, but he simply could not.
I have been reduced to a common prisoner, he thought. Shame filled him. I brought it on myself.
Because I was doing what I thought was right! He wanted to rail against his predicament, to scream that he deserved better, but he recalled his vow to accept the consequences. Now the reckoning is at hand, he told himself. Can you no longer face it?
No. Tyr, please forgive me! I was trying to help!
Suddenly, the angel remembered Aliisza, standing in the rotunda, next to Micus, crying out very similar words. I was trying to help, she had said.
She deserves better than this, even if I do not, he insisted.
The angel stormed back to the door and called loudly through it. 'I must have an audience with the High Council at once!' When no one opened the door or even answered, he yelled even louder. 'I demand to be heard! I am no forsaken fiend to be broken and remade. I accept my guilt, but the others do not deserve this punishment! Answer me!'
Nothing.
The exertion of shouting made Tauran feel unsteady on his feet. Breathing hard, he sought the bed and sat upon it.
You've been sick, he reminded himself. And you no longer enjoy the beneficence of Tyr's healing presence.
That thought dug into him hard, made his throat constrict.
After a while, when he felt his strength return to him and impatience set in again, Tauran navigated the entirety of the room, examining every detail, seeking some sign of his fate. He followed every wall, studied every piece of furniture. As he walked, the chamber began to feel constricted, too small for him.
This is terrifying, he realized. How could anyone stand this for days on end? He thought of Aliisza, trapped in her own room, desperate to flee, to escape her fate. I did that to her. To all of those I brought here. It was done with a thought to kindness, but now I see how it is but a thin veil. The illusion against the truth cannot hold.
