Kesson Rel floated above the pool, aloft under the power of a spell, cloaked in shadows. He eyed Furlinastis's passenger coldly.
As he had with each of the dead priests, Furlinastis set Avnon down on the altar and pressed the point of one of his claws into the human's abdomen. The greasy, squirming feeling surrounding the human's flesh went quiescent, as though trying to be inconspicuous.
Kesson Rel began to laugh-a hateful sound to which Furlinastis had become accustomed. The theurge floated forward, alit on the soft ground, and stood over the prone Avnon.
'Avnon Des,' he said, looking down on the captive priest. 'I had proposed to save you for last, that you could see the temple and all in it die before you met your own demise.'
The priest squirmed under Furlinastis's grasp, trying to free his chest enough to speak.
'You are a heretic, Kesson Rel, and a thief. You drank of the Chalice of Night and thereby made yourself apostate. For that-'
Kesson Rel lunged forward, tore off Avnon's mask, and seized the priest's jaw in his hand.
'And you are a fool, First Demarch, a timid fool. Do you think the Shadow God would have made me this-'
Kesson Rel released the priest and stood back and held up his arms, showing his dusky skin, his yellow eyes, and the shadows that danced around him-'if he did not want me to drink of the Chalice? Do you?'
Under his claw, Furlinastis felt the darkness around the prone priest writhing. Kesson Rel seemed not to notice.
'Repent now, Kesson Rel,' Avnon said. 'It is not too late. You are the first Chosen of the Shadow God, but you are not his First. Repent, or you will die.'
The theurge smiled and said, 'I think not.' He stared into Avnon's face while he said to Furlinastis, 'Eviscerate him, dragon. Slowly.'
Keep your promise, priest, Furlinastis thought, as the soulbinding forced his hand. And I will keep mine.
Furlinastis drove the tip of his foreclaw into Avnon's abdomen.
The priest grimaced, but managed to mouth a prayer. Furlinastis heard the power in the words, though most of them were lost in a bloody gurgle as Avnon's mouth began to fill with blood. Waiting for something, anything to occur, Furlinastis continued to tear open the priest. Avnon did not scream, just continued to pray as he was laid open. The prayer reminded Furlinastis of the words used by Kesson Rel to cast the soul spell that bound him.
When Avnon finally breathed his last, nothing happened. Nothing.
Furlinastis could hardly contain a roar of frustration.
Kesson Rel chuckled and said, 'Goodbye, First Demarch.'
In that instant, a moan sounded, as though from deep under the swamp, and a black fog rose from the freshly dead corpse of the priest. In that fog, Furlinastis saw shapes, faces.
Souls, he realized. The souls of the priests from the temple. Avnon had killed them all, sacrificed them perhaps, and borne their souls to the swamp in his own body.
Wide eyed, Kesson Rel backed up a step. His gaze went from the fog of souls, to the dragon.
'What have you done, dragon?'
Furlinastis heard the fear in the theurge's voice and knew that Avnon had not lied to him.
Kesson Rel began to cast a spell.
'Freed myself, theurge,' Furlinastis replied, and hoped that he was right.
The soul binding still prevented him from harming the theurge, so all he could do was sit, wait, and hope.
The cloud of souls moved from the body of the priest, stretched around Furlinastis's body, and merged with the shadows that always surrounded him.
Instantly, a charge ran along his scales, a tremor of power. His scales began to burn, to crawl over his flesh. The shadows around him churned. It felt as if millions of insects were crawling beneath his scales, walking along his flesh, biting his skin.
Kesson Rel's voice trailed off before completing his spell.
'Stop, dragon,' Kesson Rel screamed. 'Stop.'
But Furlinastis could not stop.
Furlinastis leaped into the air, writhing, twisting, roaring. The souls swarmed him, covered him. He hissed in agony as the priests burrowed into his being. He felt like daggers were being driven behind his eyes.
'Avnon Des, you betrayed me!' he screamed between roars.
Then he felt it, and knew that he had judged wrongly.
The souls of the priests, all eight of them, permeated his soul, scoured his being until they located the portion of Kesson Rel's soul with which the theurge had bound Furlinastis. A battle began within Furlinastis, an invisible war that he could sense but not see.
The two sides crashed into each other like warring armies. Furlinastis heard the conflict only dimly, as though from a great distance. Bolts of spiritual energy burst from the sheath of shadows that surrounded him. Distant shouts rang in his ears. Furlinastis felt the binding on the soul spell of the theurge loosen, as though someone was withdrawing a parasite that had wormed its way into the deepest recesses of his flesh.
He felt the chains on his will release, and he was free of the soul binding. The battle in his soul went quiet, though he still felt tension.
Furlinastis's mind turned immediately to vengeance. He ceased his aerial acrobatics and turned his eyes to the ground below, scanning the swamp for Kesson Rel, sniffing the air for the spoor of the theurge.
Nothing. Kesson Rel had fled.
It is not for you to kill him, he thought, recalling Avnon's words.
Breathing hard, Furlinastis landed atop the stone altar and took it into his claws. He beat his wings, hovered, and cast the sacrificial stone far out into the swamp. It vanished under the dark water.
He alit on a dry patch of ground. There, he pondered.
The seer had sacrificed his brethren and borne the souls to the swamp within his own body. As he died, the priest had cast his own soulspell, one to counter that of Kesson Rel, one that required the power of eight souls to loosen the binding of the theurge.
But why?
Furlinastis looked into the mirror of the still pool and examined the sheath of shadows that enshrouded him. They swirled around and in the swirls Furlinastis saw faces, forms. He realized the truth of it then, and it gave him a start: The souls of the priests were bound to him. He was their vessel. 'Why?' he asked.
A face took shape in the shadows, distorted but visible in the reflection on the pool's surface: Avnon Des.
'His soul remains too, dragon,' Avnon mouthed, and his voice was barely a whisper. 'We hold it in check; we can no more harm it directly than he could us. We are prisoners so that you might be free.'
Furlinastis digested that.
'Remember your oath to us,' Avnon said. 'The two who will come will free us all.'
With that, the face dispersed back into the shadows around his body.
Furlinastis frowned. His will was once again his own, but he owed it to the priests. The shadows around him were a spiritual battlefield, and would remain so for…
How long?
He knew the answer as soon as he asked himself the question: Until the First and the Second of the Shadowlord find Kesson Rel and kill him.
The wait would be long.
FIRST FLIGHT
Netheril Year 3398 (-461 DR)
