The heavy dragon-kin landed so hard it dislodged the throne from its centuries-old resting place. As the great seat slid aside, it revealed a tunnel below.
Kestrel ran toward the passage, eager to investigate, but three dragon-kin also flocked toward the discovery. Another spell from Ghleanna disbanded them. They fled in fear, leaving only a few wounded comrades still engaged in combat. Durwyn made quick work of his grounded foe, then helped finish off the remaining creatures.
At last they were free to explore the surprise passage. 'Nice work, Durwyn,' Corran said as they all approached the dais. 'Looks like you've discovered the king's emergency escape route.'
The corridor was actually a narrow, spiraling staircase. At a word from Faeril, magical light illuminated the windowless stairwell. It continued down as far as their eyes could see, apparently untouched by either time or the castle's unsavory squatters.
'Well, either we give this passage a try or see if Ghleanna can magically unseal the double doors,' Kestrel said. 'I bet we'll encounter fewer cultists this way.'
The party descended. They reached the bottom of the stairs to find a solitary door that offered no choice of direction. Kestrel pressed her ear to the wood. Beyond, she heard the sound of wings and the hiss-language of more dragon-kin.
Even worse, above it rose a horrible, mournful wailing. Thousands of voices joined in an unholy canticle of despair that howled like a wind storm.
The chorus of the damned.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Vessel of Souls radiated evil.
It was a thing of black magic, of life-taking, of soul-stealing. It looked every inch the accursed instrument it was. The vessel resembled a crystal chalice with a stem but no base. Images of tormented, eyeless faces adorned the sides of the cup, their black outlines standing out in high relief from the crystal.
Yet more horrifying than these representations of lost souls were the thousands of real spirits crying out for release.
The shadowy souls swirled in a red mist, their eyes blank, their mouths agape with their song of hopelessness. They rose above the rim of the cup in a great surge of spirit matter, only to be driven back down by the unseen force that held them captive. Their endless gyrations lent haunting rhythm to their wails.
The vessel hung suspended in the air, supported by three twisted steel beams as thick as Kestrel's waist. They formed a pyramid in the center of the round room, distributing the weight of the enormous urn to the edges of the chamber where the floor was made of stone. Directly beneath the vessel, a large circle of multifaceted glass lay inset in the floor. The glass caught the torchlight of the wall sconces and projected it up to the urn. As a result, eerie, undulating light bathed the chalice in a continuous profane baptism.
A score of dragon-kin and at least a hundred soulless drow guarded the Vessel of Souls. The lifeless dark elves stood silent and resolute in their watch, but many of the dragon-kin talked among themselves.
Kestrel closed the door as silently as she'd opened it and described the scene to her companions. 'I saw no other doors to the room,' she concluded. 'Only a tall, narrow window with its pane blackened.'
Corran rubbed his chin. 'If we drop the vessel through the floor, we can destroy it and open up an exit at the same time.' He looked to Durwyn and Athan. 'If the three of us each take one of the supports and dislodge them simultaneously, the chalice should fall through the center of the glass.'
Athan nodded. 'I can manage it'
'Me, too,' said Durwyn.
Corran next turned to Ghleanna. 'Jarial's invisibility spell could prove a big boon. He didn't happen to teach it to you somewhere along the line, did he?'
Ghleanna grinned. 'He did-and a few others.'
'Excellent. Have you the power to render all three of us invisible?'
'Aye, and two others besides-'
Kestrel shook her head. 'Just the warriors. We still have Mordrayn and Pelendralaar to face. We may need your spells more then.'
'Are you sure, Kestrel?' Corran regarded her seriously. 'We'll be relying on you, Ghleanna, and Faeril to hold off the dragon-kin and drow.'
'We can handle them,' Ghleanna declared.
Cloaked by Ghleanna's sorcery, the three fighters headed to their appointed positions. No one noticed their entrance, but one of the dragon-kin noted the open door. It raised a claw and gestured toward the remaining companions, hissing a word of alarm.
Ghleanna responded with a spell that sent the beasts into a state of confusion. Some of the dragon-kin stared stupidly at the sorceress, some wandered over to another part of the room, some actually began attacking each other. Eight dragon-kin took to the air, flying straight toward the trio of women.
Faeril, meanwhile, twice rapped the Staff of Sunlight on the floor. A burst of daylight issued forth, crippling many of the closest drow. Kestrel sent Loren's Blade and her other two daggers flying toward the nearest weakened dark elves. She eliminated two and injured a third-leaving a mere ninety-seven or so to advance on her. She prayed to any god who would listen that the warriors would destroy the Vessel of Souls quickly and that Nathlilik would prove correct in her belief that its destruction would eradicate the enslaved drow.
The dragon-kin swooped down to attack. Kestrel's armor resisted their claws, but Ghleanna did not fare as well. One of the beasts raked her face, turning her left cheek to bloody ribbons. The mage shrieked and clutched her damaged face, then responded with a volley of conjured missiles that hit the beast in rapid succession.
Through the corner of her eye, Kestrel saw Faeril inflict critical wounds on a swooping dragon-kin with only a word. The creature plummeted to the ground. After that, she lost track of what the others were doing as she fought her own battles against the remaining dragon-kin. One of them had her pinned against the wall. She used her club to beat off his swiping claws, all the while trying to score a hit with Loren's Blade.
Beyond, the weakened drow had mobilized. The first wave rushed in to join the combat against the intruders. One of them hurled a fireball at her. She braced herself for its impact, ready to feel the blaze sear her flesh, but miraculously, the flames passed over her like a gentle breeze. Her mind raced for an explanation until she recalled the mantle rings she wore. What was it the baelnorn had said-protection from a dozen spells? Corran and the others had better hurry.
Though the fireball passed over her without harm, it scorched her opponent. The dragon-kin shrieked and turned on the offending drow for revenge. As the two enemies fought each other, another dragon-kin moved in to attack Kestrel. She stole a look at the Vessel of Souls, still suspended in place. What was taking Corran and the others so long? Surely by now they'd had sufficient time to reach their stations. A second glance revealed slight movement of the nearest support beam. Thank the gods! The urn would drop any moment
Suddenly, a loud crash! rent the air. The sound came not from the floor, where Kestrel had expected it, but from above. The dragon-kin, distracted, spun around, allowing her to plant Loren's Blade in her opponent's back and see for herself the source of the noise.
Shards of glass rained down from the chamber's window as a lone figure swung in on a rope. An angel of darkness, her face a mask of vengeance, swooped in to seize justice for the wronged and wreak retribution on the guilty.
Nathlilik.
The drow leader gripped the rope with only one hand. In the other she clutched a spiked mace, raised high. Blood running from cuts all over her body, her white hair streaming loose behind her, she sailed through the air toward the Vessel of Souls.
'Kedar!' she cried. 'I do this for you!'
As the arc of her swing brought her directly above the urn, she let go of the rope. She dropped twenty feet to the vessel and struck the invisible force field with her mace. At the same moment, the support beams finally slid out of place. The Vessel of Souls, and Nathlilik along with it, plummeted.
It smashed through the floor, shattering the glass and continuing its descent. A deafening explosion sounded.
