Aoth strained to spring forward even faster and just made it inside the giant s reach. Her arms were above him, and the branches of the stone tree scraped, banged, and snapped, sweeping across the patch of floor at his back. The wheel of blades sliced a deep gash across Grontaix s unwounded leg before the magic blinked out of existence. With a final stride, Aoth closed the distance, charged his sword with destructive force, and slashed a second cut above the other.
The sword bit deep, but the giantess still wouldn t fall down. Though the wound must have hurt her, she repeatedly tried to stamp on Aoth, and to stab the top of the stone tree down on his head. She alternated those tactics with an attempt to scramble far enough away so that his sword couldn t reach her, while at the same time sweeping him away by swinging her makeshift weapon. He dodged, pursuing doggedly whenever she tried to open up the distance, and cutting at her whenever she gave him a chance.
Meanwhile, something started pounding on the other side of one of the arches that Jhesrhi had sealed with her wizardry. So far, Aoth and his comrades had held their own, but it seemed unlikely that even the elementalist s mastery of earth and stone could keep the rest of the giants out for long.
Which meant they had to end the fight quickly. Aoth had to, for he d taken the critical task upon himself. Everyone else was essentially just keeping the cyclopes from swarming on him.
Grontaix tried another retreat, and pursuing more slowly, trying to look fatigued it shouldn t be difficult he let her open up the distance. She screamed and whirled the stone tree the silver pears all fallen away, many of the branches snapped off short in another sweeping horizontal stroke.
Aoth didn t try to dodge. He d let her open up the distance precisely so she could attempt another of those arcing blows they took longer to travel to the target. With luck, they even afforded the time for a spell. He rattled off words of power as the stone tree spun at him, and he slashed in its direction with his sword.
A shaft of green light blazed from the blade and struck the onrushing makeshift weapon. The whole tree glowed emerald for an instant and then simply disappeared.
The sudden absence of its weight threw the fomorian off balance. Aoth charged and cut at her nearest leg like a mad logger frantic to fell a tree.
He slashed repeatedly, inflicting new wounds on a limb that, like its mate, was already a gory, tattered mess. Blood spurted. Grontaix roared, stumbled, and fell headlong. When she slammed down, it jolted the floor, and Aoth nearly lost his balance, too.
He sprinted toward her head, grabbed the edge of an ear, and pressed the point of his sword against a pulsing artery in the side of her neck. Don t move! he gasped. Tell the cyclopes to stand down! Now, or you re dead!
She hesitated for a moment, then cried, Everyone, stop! It gave him a vague sort of satisfaction that she sounded as winded as he did.
When he felt confident that she really had stopped fighting, he risked a quick glance around. To his relief, all of his allies appeared to be all right. In fact, they d killed two more cyclopes: one that Jhesrhi had apparently burned to death and another that looked like it had succumbed to a combination of sword cuts and bites from large fanged jaws. The bites didn t look like the results of any spell that Jhesrhi or Cera used, and Aoth could only assume that some magic Zyl commanded was responsible. The surviving retainers were lowering their weapons and backing away from their opponents.
Suddenly the stone plugging one of the arches flew apart with a flash of silvery light and an echoing boom, and more cyclops warriors scrambled through the breach. Fortunately, they faltered when they saw Aoth s blade at Grontaix s throat.
Good, he told the giantess. Now, everyone s going to stay calm, you re going to answer some questions, and then you re going to escort my friends and me safely out of here.
That ll be a good trick, she gritted, considering that I m bleeding out.
He realized that might actually be true. Cera, if you have any power left, keep her alive, he said.
All right, the priestess replied. She stanched the rhythmic arterial spurting with a prayer and a gleaming touch of her hand.
There, said Aoth. You see, this doesn t need to turn ugly. Well, uglier.
Who are you people? the fomorian growled.
Agents of the Iron Lord and the Wychlaran, Aoth replied.
Well, not all of us, said Zyl. It looks like my disguise has outlived its usefulness, so these oafs might as well know who outwitted and defeated them. His body contours flowed as he started shapeshifting.
Though he didn t consider himself a fanciful man, Aoth imagined his new ally might now stand revealed as a sinisterly handsome dark-elf wizard or a notably hideous devil. That, after all, was the sort of transformation that happened in stories. Thus, he felt a mixture of anticlimax and amusement at his own romanticism when the black rat flowed into the shape of a black hare.
But if he wasn t impressed, Grontaix was. You! she snarled.
Zyl laughed as he said, Yes. I ve been hiding right here in your palace for months now.
And I imagine you have some things to say about it, said Aoth to his captive. But they ll keep. Right now, you need to tell me about the undead durthans, and don t bother denying you know what I m talking about. I ve already questioned your warrior Choschax.
The fomorian spat. I curse the night the durthans came back! she said.
The hathrans aren t too happy about it, either, said Aoth. But why apart from your present situation do you say that?
When my folk first allied with the durthans, we were supposed to help them cast down the hathrans, and they were supposed to help us crush our foes in the Feywild
Like me! Zyl interjected. and Shadow alike. But the so-called Witch War was a disaster. The hathrans annihilated the durthans, and our enemies humbled us. There may be some among my people who are eager to try exactly the same thing again in precisely the same way, but I m not one of them. That s why I live apart: because I can t abide the company of fools.
So why, Cera asked, did you help the durthans recruit werewolves to their cause?
The giantess snorted. The curs are nothing, she said. Just a convenience we in this stronghold created to keep true humans off my land.
So by parting with something of little value, said Aoth, you satisfied the durthans and bought yourself time to decide whether you really want to throw in with them again or not.
Yes.
Who s bringing the durthans back?
Other undead, supposedly from somewhere far away. I don t know where, exactly. I ve only met with the durthans, not with the ones who called them from their graves.
If they re from so far away, Vandar asked, shivering and ashenlipped now that his rage had passed, what do they care about Rashemen?
I can t tell you why they chose to come to this land in particular, Grontaix said. But I do know their intent is to establish some sort of hegemony of the dead. The durthans will rule here as they desire, but their dominion will be part of something greater.
Like the tharchs that make up Thay, said Aoth.
I suppose, replied the formorian.
And that explains why these invaders are so concerned about Szass Tam and his lieutenants finding out about them. Thay s already an empire of the undead and necromancy. I doubt it wants a rival, and it may well have the power to destroy this one before it really gets going.
That would be my guess.
And when the undead rule Rashemen, what do your people get out of it?
The fomorian sneered. Those who came to visit me gave essentially the same pledges as before, she said. The undead will rule in the mortal world, and my folk will rule in the spirit realms.
How do the durthans and the other undead travel around Rashemen without the hathrans watchers spotting them?
I can t say, but it s a useful trick.
What else do they have in their quivers? What s their grand strategy for winning a new war?
I don t know that, either.
