simply eyes, but mirrors, reflecting his own soul.
This is not me/a voice from somewhere deep within the madness screamed.
This is you, the eyes seemed to say. And it is this that I love.
Drakken would have fled before the reality of that love, but his feet were rooted to the ground. Beneath the weight of that unyielding gaze he realized that for the past five years he had been running from himself, trying to be something that he wasn't. He looked upon the beast in all of its power, and he knew that he would never truly be free of it if he kept trying to lock it away. He and the beast were one. In the end, all he could do was let it go.
At once, the pain of his wounds became too great to stand. The half-dragon fell to his knees before the wounded form of Abbot Meremont.
'Forgive me,' he whispered as a bubble of blood appeared on his lips.
'You are forgiven, my son,' the abbot said, laying a bloodied hand upon Drakken's face.
And so, on a chill spring night, with three spears piercing his heart, Drakken Thaal yielded to love and gave himself up to a mystery older even than the gods. He toppled to the ground.
Finally at peace.
HOW SHARPER THAN A SERPENT'S TOOTH
25 Ches, the Year of Rogue Dragons
Act I
Because…' said Talbot Uskevren, his voice rising with each syllable until it echoed throughout the Wide Realms playhouse, '… we… dorit …do… commissions!'
Mallion retreated so quickly that Ennis had to grab him before he fell backward off stage. Sivana flinched at the force of Talbot's outburst, and Presbart closed his eyes and grimaced. Not since his father's death had Talbot lost his temper so badly. He feared the worst, but a glance at the clenched fist he had been shaking at Mallion showed that his hands, at least, still appeared completely human.
Thank Tymora for small favors. His fellow players knew all too well that, despite appearances, the leader of their troupe was never completely human. It had been over two years since Talbot had become a werewolf-far more than a werewolf-but in that time he had learned to master the change, even when the moon was full. In moments of great anger, however, it was hard not to let the black beast emerge.
Talbot opened his hands and relaxed his big shoulders. He considered apologizing but knew that would only weaken his position, morally if not legally. He remained the majority shareholder of the playhouse, so any decision was dependent upon his approval, but he did not want to lose any of his company, especially his fellow owners. They had been nibbling at him for tendays on the same matter, and he supposed that it was at last time to have it out. He waited for Mallion to speak again, since he was the instigator.
Mallion looked at Sivana for support, but she shrugged and looked to Presbart. As the eldest player in the company, one who had traveled the Realms with Mistress Quickly long before she established the playhouse in Selgaunt, Presbart enjoyed an air of authority that far outweighed his relatively few shares in the company. As patiently as if he were merely considering what to eat for supper, the old thespian stroked his mustache and pretended not to have noticed Sivana's prompting gaze.
Sivana turned instead to Ennis. The hulking player was almost as big as Talbot, but unlike Talbot's, his dim appearance was not, alas, deceiving. He looked curiously back at Sivana until a dopey smile creased his face. He loved her, as did all the company, and he would gladly support her in any argument, but Ennis would do the same for any other friend, making him useless in an argument among the players.
With a sigh, Sivana finally crossed her arms and turned back to Mallion.
'Don't look to us, my bonny lad,' she said. Since the death of the troupe's former leader, the younger actress had picked up many of Quickly's quaint expressions. 'You are the one who found a patron.'
'W/ia??'Talbot's voice shook the timbers of the playhouse's new roof, a creaky flat cone that shielded the open yard from the rain while leaving a ring of open space between its edges and the eaves of the original circular building. The resident tasloi shrieked and swung through the rafters to their nest in the 'heavens' above the stage. Even Lommy, the diminutive father of the clan of jungle creatures, who had been listening to the discussion from the edge of the balcony, pulled his pointed green head back from view as Talbot rumbled, 'I never said you could solicit-'
'Sheapproached him' offeredPresbart.
His smooth and reasonable tone blunted Talbot's ire. No one could shout back at the distinguished player of kings and high priests, but Talbot raised a skeptical eyebrow.
'It's true!' insisted Mallion. 'She liked what she had seen of our performances this spring. In fact, she specifically mentioned your role in AzounP
'It's true,' said Sivana.
Her hair was just coming back in from having shaved it for their previous production, but she had already dyed it grass green, perpetuating the eternal speculation on her original color.
'And just what did you tell her about our policy?' said Talbot.
' 'We don't do commissions,'' Mallion replied, not quite mocking Talbot's tone, which was fortunate for him, Talbot thought.
'Good,' said Talbot. 'Great! Then it's settled. Let's get back to work.'
He hopped down from the stage and went back to the stack of lumber they had bought to repair the roof. Since the rainproof enchantment over the previously open roof had expired, the shareholders built a conical shelter over the yard rather than pay the wizard's exorbitant fee. Unfortunately, they had since learned that the constant repairs and the need for continual flame spells to light the stage were almost as dear as the spellcaster's price.
'But why is that?' asked Ennis,
Despite his thirty-odd years and three hundred pounds, Ennis sounded like a querulous child when perplexed.
'Why what?' said Talbot.
'Why don't we do commissions?'
Talbot laughed, but soon he realized he was the only one laughing. The other players were staring at him with their arms crossed, their eyebrows raised.
'We all know why' he said, moving the lumber from the ground to the stage so as not to look his fellows in the eye. 'You tell him, Sivana.'
Sivana sniffed and said, 'Well, I might once have said it was to preserve our reputation, but considering what everyone in Selgaunt is saying about Azoun and The Rose….'
'Never mind that,' said Talbot. He didn't appreciate the reminder that the past few productions at the Wide Realms had become fodder for the most vicious gossips among the nobility. While The Uninvited Rose was indeed a hackneyed comedy that made none of the players proud, Talbot was pleased with Azoun, a tragedy in which he had finally played a title role. Unfortunately, the critical tongues of the gossips were sharper than the fangs of the wyrm that had slain the king of Cormyr.
'There are plenty of other reasons,' Talbot said, nodding affirmatively at Ennis. 'Tell him, Mallion.'
'Tell him what?' said the actor. He had just passed thirty years and was beginning at last to look his age. In truth, Talbot was often jealous of the older actor, whose good looks and natural talent made him the obvious choice to play the lead in most plays. 'I can think of no reason not to accept a commission when our treasury is so poor and attendance dwindles by the day.'
'What's the matter with you? It is a matter of artistic integrity!' insisted Talbot. 'We can't have some
