Contentment and satisfaction spread across the druid's face as he expired. He died a Thunderbeast.
The deathly pallor slipped away from Sungar's face, and he sat up. He shrugged in puzzlement at the elf maiden standing next to him, but she was scarcely the strangest thing he had witnessed that day.
Sungar looked to Thanar's mangled corpse. Whispering a few words to his fallen brother, Sungar stood and snatched up the axe, dashing toward their metal enemy with restored vigor. Even the wounds of his imprisonment had faded to smooth scars. He buried the axe head into the golem's features and twisted the weapon, ripping apart the ridiculous parody of Geildarr's face.
* * * * *
'Take it,' said Geildarr, looking at the Heart of Runlatha. His voice was full of regret. 'Get it out of here.'
'Where shall I take it?' asked Ardeth.
'Take it to Zhentil Keep. Don't rest until it's in Fzoul's hands, and tell him what brought all of this about.'
Geildarr detected a faint trace of glee in Ardeth's voice as she said, 'As you command.' Ardeth picked up the Heart of Runlatha in both hands. She took a step toward the bookcase that concealed a secret passage out of the keep, but found a red-clad gnome standing in her path, the tricorn atop his head slightly askew.
For a moment all were still, nobody knowing what to say. Moritz smiled at Geildarr.
'So, my friend,' Moritz said. 'You reveal your true colors at last.'
With a burst of speed, Ardeth spun backward and dived, the Heart of Runlatha still within her grasp. She tried to pull herself into the shadow under the zalantarwood table, but Moritz gestured and the table vanished, its shadow disappearing with it.
Catlike, she fell into a crouch and stared at Moritz—or more precisely, at the small shadow he cast. A determined look from the gnome told her not to bother. Ardeth backed away from him, easing up against a bookcase along the far wall, breathing heavily. Her eyes darted to the corners of the room and to Geildarr—not to him, but to his shadow, barely visible in the filtered light of the keep. Then her eyes darted to the hallway beyond the door, from which sounds of battle still rang.
'Moritz!' shouted Geildarr. 'What is the meaning of this?'
'I wondered if you might be disloyal,' said Moritz to Geildarr, taking a few steps toward Ardeth and twirling his wooden cane. 'But no—you have kept the faith. To Fzoul. Whereas Ardeth... she knows to whom Netherese artifacts truly belong. Isn't that so?' He flashed her a venomous smile. 'Uncloud your eyes, Geildarr. See the truth.'
Moritz cast another spell. Before Geildarr's unbelieving eyes, Ardeth's pretty face turned from white to a dusky tone, like that of a Calishite. Her honey-colored hair darkened to a coal black shade. Then even this illusion was stripped away, and Ardeth was laid bare as a pillar of shadow in the shape of a girl. Darkness wafted from her, smoky tendrils snaking from her into the air. The Heart of Runlatha glowed even brighter in her hands—its light against her veil of shadows shining like a red star over her chest.
The shadows reached out to stroke the artifact, enveloping it in a cold caress. It sank inside Ardeth's body, coming to rest where her heart should be. The strength of its glow diminished only slightly. The Heart's red light shone from within its cage of shadows.
'I would've preferred to act earlier,' Moritz told Geildarr. 'But Sememmon wanted me to confirm your loyalties.'
Geildarr's doughy face turned red as anger mixed with embarrassment. She had manipulated him so completely, deceived him so utterly. Geildarr wanted to look away from her but he could not. How did she keep this hidden for so long? She was a shade. A shade! A spy in his midst all this time, a spy from the Empire of Shadows.
No wonder his troops had been unable to surprise the Shadovar in the Fallen Lands.
He had thought she was his new Ashemmi, the creature he could trust in everything. She bought his confidence with the head of a dwarf, and kept it by skillfully accomplishing every task Geildarr assigned to her.
What a fool she had made of him. No, he corrected himself, what a fool she had revealed him to be.
Geildarr raised a hand and an arrow burst forth, sailing through the air at Ardeth. She leaped toward the hallway, the arrow splintering the bookcase behind her, acid spraying from it and singeing tomes and floor. Geildarr bellowed a magical word that locked all the doors on his private floor.
As Geildarr ran after her, Moritz called him back.
'Here. Sememmon's regards.' He tossed Geildarr a dagger. Geildarr caught it in midair and realized it was the ancient bone dagger from the Great Wyrm's hoard, the very same dagger he had given Ardeth before sending her after Arthus Tyrrell.
She'd be seeking out deep shadows, Geildarr knew, that would allow her to step into the Plane of Shadow and walk away with the Heart, probably back to Anauroch and the City of Shade. Then the Heart would be lost forever.
Ardeth ran through the hallway, little more than a black streak trailing tendrils of smoke. Pedestals toppled as she passed, Geildarr's precious relics smashing on the floor. Geildarr bounded after her, hopping over each fallen treasure, naked anger compelling his sluggish form to faster and faster speeds. The light of the Heart shone faintly from inside Ardeth—a beacon for his fury. Ardeth didn't bother to exit through any of the doors along the hallway, but kept up her sprint all the way to the hall's end.
Ardeth reached the iron door, her shadowy fingers playing on the lock as Geildarr bore down on her, dagger in hand.
* * * * *
Who am I?
What am I?
Rage was such an utterly pure state. Vell understood everything—the limits of the world were no further than his own perceptions. There was nothing in the universe but what he saw and what he felt. When his human mind floated to the surface for a moment, a wave of confusion overtook Vell that was quickly silenced by the simplicity of rage. The behemoth anger swelled and grew till it encompassed all things, and Vell was pushed down beneath.
A chorus sang inside Vell. Every behemoth was there in his mind along with him, fighting in the streets of Llorkh and leaving a trail of destruction. When another of them fell, he felt the death as if it were his own.
Who am I?
Did I ever really know?
* * * * *
Thluna, Kellin, and Sungar battered the iron golem with club, sword, and axe, chipping away at the powerful construct. Lanaal, helpless against its power, kept out of the way on the stairs.
Kellin chopped at the crevice that Sungar had cloven into the golem's shoulder, and the statue's left arm fell off, landing on the floor at the top of the staircase. Sungar could see the golem's purple lights flickering and fading inside its eye sockets, and he let it follow him to the downward stairs.
'Now!' he shouted. He dived out of the way just as Thluna slammed his club against the golem's back. Unable to balance properly without its arm, and with its magical animation failing, the golem tumbled forward down the stairs with a metallic racket. Sungar leaped over it and came to rest on the landing below. Kellin patted Thluna's back as Sungar and Lanaal approached the heavy iron door leading to Geildarr's private chambers.
Before they could examine the door, it swung open with great force. A rotund, purple-robed mage tumbled out, locked in combat with something dark and vaporous. The wizard struggled with a creature that seemed forged out of pure darkness, yet held the shape and solidity of a human woman. As its dark face howled at them, Sungar and Kellin recognized it as Ardeth, shadows writhing across her face.
Geildarr knocked her to the floor and pinned her against the red carpet under his weight. Ardeth writhed and twisted under his full bulk. He lifted the bone dagger and drove it into her shoulder. She let out an unearthly squeal as it easily sliced her shadow-flesh. When Geildarr pulled out the weapon, he saw a flash of yellow ignite inside
