Lady Ruin

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nothing personal, Lirra,” Ranja said, “but I’m not sure Lord Bergerron has enough silver to get me to go up against those things! I’m not sure even Kaius has enough!”

Elidyr’s white-eyed servants walked stiffly toward them, like puppets manipulated by unseen strings, and their vacant, slack-jawed expressions never changed, whether they were simply walking down the street or slaughtering someone who’d gotten in their way.

“Go then,” Lirra said. “I won’t think any the less of you for it.”

Ranja grinned as she reached into one of her tunic pockets. “What, and miss all the fun?”

From her pocket, she withdrew a handful of what looked like iridescent pearls. The shifter pulled back her arm and hurled the tiny spheres toward the oncoming white-eyes with all her considerable strength. The pearl-like objects soared through the air and struck a number of white-eyes, exploding with bright, soundless flashes of light. Lirra had witnessed any number of magical weapons used during the Last War, but she’d never seen anything quite like these. Instead of tearing apart the white-eyes’ bodies with concussive force as she expected, the energies released from the spheres caused the white-eyes to begin collapsing inward on themselves. Their bodies began to compress, as if they were being pushed upon by an invisible force from all directions. Their forms began to crumple and shrink, bones snapping, muscles tearing, skin splitting as their bodies were reduced to a fifth their original size. The process wasn’t a smooth one, however. The white-eyes’ healing ability struggled to fight off the effects of Ranja’s spheres, and sometimes the compression would halt, even begin to reverse, but then the magic would intensify and the process would continue. When all was finally said and done, five white-eyes had been reduced to lopsided fleshy masses lying still upon the stone street.

“A working girl has to spend her money on something. I like to make sure I have the best toys.” Ranja gave Lirra a wink.

Elidyr raised his hand and the surviving white-eyes halted.

“Most impressive, shifter!” Elidyr said, his tone holding all the enthusiasm of a young child who’d just witnessed a particularly entertaining feat. “Whoever made those for you did fine work. Now shall I show you one of my tricks?”

The stormstalk curled around Elidyr’s shoulder straightened, trained its overlarge eye on Ranja, and an instant later a bolt of lightning leaped forth from the creature’s orb and streaked toward the shifter. Lirra had anticipated Elidyr’s move, and even before he’d finished speaking, she’d commanded the tentacle whip to grab hold of Ranja’s arm and yank the shifter out of harm’s way. The stormstalk’s bolt sizzled through empty air and dissipated without doing any damage.

A soft whine escaped Ranja’s throat as she frantically shook herself free of the tentacle whip’s coils.

“Thanks but, eew!” The shifter shuddered. “It felt like being grabbed by a length of animated intestine.”

“Stop complaining,” Lirra muttered. “The whip kept you from getting your fur scorched, didn’t it?” She turned to face her uncle. He hadn’t commanded the white-eyes to continue their advance, and she had the feeling that he hadn’t seriously been trying to injure Ranja, that he’d loosed the bolt of lightning at her more for amusement’s sake than anything.

The sight of her uncle filled Lirra with conflicting emotions. It was because of him that she’d become a monstrosity, and while she wasn’t sure how he’d done it, she was certain that he was responsible for whatever foul magic had created the hideous white-eyes. Elidyr had become a fiend, and he needed to be stopped before he could hurt anyone else. But she also felt overwhelming sorrow for the transformation that had befallen her uncle. He’d been a brilliant man, and while he could be arrogant and short-tempered at times, he’d been kind and loving as well, a good uncle to her, and despite the differences between him and Vaddon, a good brother to her father. She wondered if anything of the man Elidyr had been still remained buried somewhere inside, or if the dark influence of his symbionts-along with the daelkyr’s foul touch-had irrevocably corrupted both his mind and soul. She hoped some way might be found to restore Elidyr to sanity, but she feared it was already too late to save him.

Elidyr came forward, stepping through pools of blood from the slaughtered garrison soldiers that lay scattered on the street. He paused to gaze down at the compressed masses that had been white-eyes and then kicked one as if it were a ball and sent it rolling down the street. He then continued walking forward until he stood within five feet of Lirra and Ranja. Lirra felt her symbiont’s eagerness to attack before Elidyr could strike at them, and as dangerous as he’d become, she was tempted, but she restrained herself. She had to at least make an attempt to reach him.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I was looking all over town for you, Lirra,” he said. “The moment I set foot in Geirrid I sensed your presence. It took me a while to track you down, but then I’m still learning to use my new abilities. As are you, I imagine. Speaking of new abilities, what do you think of my creations?” He gestured toward the surviving white-eyes. “They take a little while to make, but the basic process is relatively simple. Akin to molding clay, when you get right down to it. I gathered them from several farms on my way to Geirrid, and once we arrived, I decided it would be fun to put them through their paces and see what they could do. They’re wonderfully effective, don’t you think? Strong, obedient, resistant to injury.” He scowled at Ranja. “Most injuries, that is.”

Lirra looked at the white-eyes in a different light. They might be monsters now, transformed by her mad uncle, but they’d been families-fathers, mothers, children … simple farmers whose only crime had been to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anger blossomed anew inside her, and the tentacle whip screamed out for her to attack, but she fought to keep her emotions under control. She needed to stay calm while she talked with Elidyr. If she lost her temper, she’d attack him without thought, without strategy, and she knew he was too powerful for her to beat in a straight fight-especially when he had the white-eyes to call upon. And besides, she didn’t want to attack him, she reminded herself. Not unless she had no other choice.

“You need help, Uncle,” Lirra said. “Bonding with so many symbionts has damaged your mind. Those things …” She gestured toward the white-eyes. “No sane mind could’ve created them. Surely you must see that!”

Ranja elbowed her in the ribs. “A word of advice,” she whispered. “Try not to antagonize the scary man and his army of monsters. I have a few more toys at my disposal, but I don’t have that many.”

Elidyr looked at Lirra, and she saw nothing of the man he’d been in his gaze. Only the bright light of madness shone in his eyes. “Concepts like sane or insane no longer have any meaning for me, Niece. Nor should they for you. Instead, you should start thinking in terms of limited and unlimited. This world”-he gestured at the austere stone buildings surrounding them-“is limited. So much so that it can scarcely be said to exist at all. It’s only one step up from an illusion, little more than a child’s paint smears on a tissue-thin piece of paper. Crudely rendered and”-he gazed down upon the dead body of a solider-“so easily shredded.” He returned his gaze to Lirra and reached up with the outsized claw of his living gauntlet to gently scratch the head of his stormstalk. “Xoriat is a higher realm than this one, Lirra. A boundless place of endless possibilities. It represents freedom in its most pure and absolute form. That’s what we can bring to this world, and I’m giving you the chance to help me do it.”

Lirra felt the last shred of hope that she might be able to help her uncle fade. He was clearly insane. “Do what, precisely?”

“What do you think?” Ranja hissed. “Help him to achieve whatever megalomaniacal scheme he’s cooked up. I ought to know. I work for Karrnathi warlords, and they practically invented megalomaniacal schemes!”

Elidyr laughed. “The shifter is right enough as it goes, though I’d quibble with her terminology. You and I both needed a period of adjustment, a chance to acclimate ourselves to our new condition, explore our gifts, and better understand our new perspective on the world. But that time is over. Now I intend to do everything in my not inconsiderable new power to bring the glory and wonder of Xoriat to this world. To Karrnath first, then Khorvaire, and finally to all of Eberron! Until the barriers between the planes completely break down and there is no longer any difference between one world and the other. Then, and only then, will everyone know the same joy we’ve discovered.”

Lirra was sickened by her uncle’s words, but she did her best not to show it. “Why me? If you truly are so powerful now, why do you need anyone’s help?”

“I may be powerful, child, but I’m not a god. And as I told you, I’m not insane. I know that the task which lies before me will not be an easy one, and I will have need of strong allies if I’m to succeed. I can’t think of anyone more suited to stand by my side than you. You’re an intelligent woman, a soldier trained at Rekkenmark and seasoned by battle. You bear a symbiont and-through the Overmantle-you have also experienced the power of Xoriat. And in the end, you are family.” He held out his hand, the one covered by the crawling gauntlet. “Come with me, Lirra, and together we shall reshape the world.”

“You’re not really thinking of doing it, are you?” Ranja whispered in her ear. “Because if you are, let me know, so I can turn tail and run like blazes in the other direction.”

Lirra ignored the shifter. “I won’t join you, Uncle. What you see as glorious, I see as horrible. What you view as gifts, I view as abominations.”

“Young people. Always so rebellious.” Elidyr sighed and then shrugged. “Oh well. You can’t say I didn’t try.” He looked over his shoulder at the white-eyes. “Kill them both.”

Elidyr’s monstrous servants shambled forward. Lirra gripped her sword tighter and the tentacle whip swayed in the air, the symbiont gleefully anticipating the mayhem to come. Ranja assumed her bestial aspect as she pulled another object out of her tunic pocket, this one a crystalline shard wrapped in coils of fine silver wire.

“I’d tell you it’s been nice working with you,” the shifter said, as the shard began to glow with a crimson light, “but my mother taught me not to lie.”

Just then a pair of warforged-one squat with large hands, the other tall and lean-came running down the street behind the white-eyes. The constructs were quickly followed by a half-dozen men and women on horseback, soldiers wearing the uniform of the Outguard, and leading them, sword in hand and raised high, was Lirra’s father.

Lirra turned to Ranja and grinned.

“It’s about time they showed up, don’t you think?”

Then she turned back to face her uncle, shouted a war cry, and ran forward to battle. She sensed Ranja hesitate for a moment, and Lirra wouldn’t have been surprised if the spy chose that moment to flee and save her own hide. But instead she charged forward as well, and the two of them ran side by side toward the advancing white-eyes.

Lirra told herself that whatever they’d been before, the white-eyes were no longer people. They were monsters under Elidyr’s control, and the most merciful thing to do would be to kill them and release them from the horrible state of non-life her uncle had forced upon them. But that didn’t make it easier for her to swing her sword at them-especially the children. But she’d been well trained and battle hardened, and she would do what had to be done. She raised her sword and swung at the first white-eye she came in contact with, one who had once been a young girl of no more than fourteen, and she kept on swinging until the creature went down.

As she fought, part of her mind stayed focused on what she was doing, but another part kept watch on what was happening around her. When Elidyr became aware of the Outguard, he ordered his white-eyes to attack the oncoming soldiers. Up to this point, the white-eyes had moved slowly, and Lirra was surprised when several of them leaped into the air and knocked soldiers off their mounts. Two of the Outguard were dead before they hit the ground, but the rest managed to roll with the impact and scramble away from the white-eyes’ grasping hands before the monsters could catch hold. Once the soldiers were on their feet, they began hacking at the white-eyes, but Lirra knew their efforts would only succeed in delaying the monsters. The abominations would heal swiftly, and they did not tire, unlike the mortals who opposed them.

The two warforged fared far better against Elidyr’s creations. Lirra didn’t know where her father had come by them, but her best guess was that he’d reported to Bergerron after the failure of the Overmantle, and the warlord had given the constructs to Vaddon to help track down Elidyr-and likely her as well. Formed of far more durable materials than mere flesh and blood, the warforged fought like living suits of armor, and took little damage from the white-eyes, though the creatures fought with strength far greater than their natural bodies had possessed. Some warforged were highly skilled at the use of weapons, but others had been designed to be weapons in and of themselves, and these two were definitely among the latter. The shorter warforged swung his oversized fists like giant hammers, slamming white-eyes against buildings and onto the ground. Bones splintered and flesh pulped beneath the warforged’s fists, but the moment he withdrew the injured white-eyes-none of whom made so much as a whimper as they’d been wounded-began to heal. As soon as their legs were functional again, they got back on their feet and resumed attacking, even if the rest of them was still in the process of being put right. White-eyes fought with shards of bone sticking out of their arms, with dented heads, with jaws hanging half off. But no matter how serious the injury they’d sustained, still no blood flowed from their wounds.

The tall warforged fought with his hands as well, but his primary mode of attack was to use his long legs and spiked feet. He leaped into the air and delivered one devastating spinning kick after another, and white-eyes were tossed about as if caught in the throes of a cyclone, their flesh torn by the force of the warforged’s foot spikes. But even though the construct did just as much damage as his brother, the white-eyes refused to stay down, and within seconds they were up and fighting again.

Vaddon remained in the saddle, shouting orders as he swung his sword at any white-eye that came near. Next to him was Ksana, sitting astride a horse and carrying her halberd. The half-elf’s eyes were closed and her lips moved silently as she mouthed a prayer. Lirra felt a wave of warmth pass over her, as if clouds had parted to permit a beam of sunlight to filter down from the heavens. She felt stronger, more alert, and the despair that had been begun nibbling at the edge of her awareness was pushed back. She’d experienced this effect on the battlefield before when Ksana called upon Dol Arrah for aid, but the experience remained as amazing and humbling as the first time she’d felt it.

Lirra knew the others, Ranja included, also felt the effects of Dol Arrah’s blessing, for they fought with renewed vigor, and while the white-eyes continued to heal their wounds, they did so more slowly, and their movements became more sluggish. Her symbiont, however, not only didn’t seem to receive a boost from the goddess’s power, it actually seemed to lose strength. The tentacle whip continued to fight at her command, but it moved more slowly than usual, and its grip was no longer as strong.

What’s wrong? she thought. Surely a bit of divine power can’t harm a big, strong symbiont like you.

The whip didn’t respond, but Lirra had the distinct impression that it would’ve liked to tell her to shut her damn mouth. She dismissed the whip from her mind and continued fighting against the white-eyes.

Rhedyn and Osten were there as well. Both had been among those soldiers who’d been knocked from their mounts during the white-eyes’ initial attack, but they had survived and were standing back to back, swords flashing as they fought to keep Elidyr’s creatures from tearing them apart. Rhedyn had called upon the strength of his shadow sibling, and he was cloaked by the symbiont’s dark aura. Osten had no such special abilities to rely on, but he nevertheless fought like a man possessed, his features set in a grim mask of determination as he swung his sword in one vicious arc after another. Osten had always been a competent fighter, but Lirra had never seen him like this, and she feared that what had happened at the lodge yesterday had caused permanent damage to his mind and spirit. The way he fought, without caution or restraint, made him appear as if he didn’t care whether he lived or died, just as long as he could get one more strike in at his opponent. Such an attitude could be a strong asset for a warrior, freeing him from fear and frightening enemies with his fierceness. But it could also be dangerous, not only for the warrior himself, but for any companions unfortunate enough to get too close to him during a fight.

One member of the Outguard hung back and merely observed as the battle went on. Sinnoch, his features completely hidden by his overlarge robe, sat upon the back of a small brown mare who’d been specially enchanted by an animal trainer bearing a dragonmark of handling so that the horse would carry the dolgaunt without complaint. Even so, the mare pawed the ground restlessly and shook her head, clearly unhappy with having an unnatural creature like Sinnoch sitting astride her. Lirra wasn’t surprised that the dolgaunt only watched. Though he was not trained in the fighting arts, he was much stronger than a human and could’ve aided them if he wished, but that was not his way. She had no doubt he was sitting back and watching the battle unfold before him with great amusement. She wondered why her father had brought the dolgaunt along. Probably so that he might provide some insight into dealing with Elidyr, she decided. Otherwise, Sinnoch was useless. If she’d been in her father’s place, she’d have run the dolgaunt through and tossed his body onto the side of the road for those few scavengers that could stomach the unclean carcass.

She felt a wave of satisfaction come from the tentacle whip.

See? came the thought-voice that sounded so much like her own. We’re becoming more alike all the time …

Lirra ignored the symbiont’s taunt and refocused her concentration on dealing with the latest white-eye before her. It was the fourteen-year-old girl again, wounds healed and come back for a second helping of punishment. Very well. Lirra would dish out some more for her.

Though Ranja had assumed her full shifter aspect, she fought with her glowing crystal just as much as she did with her claws. She pointed the magical device at white-eyes and a crimson beam of energy lanced forth to strike the creatures. The energy entered into their bodies, suffusing them, until they radiated a gentle crimson light. The energy didn’t stop them altogether, but it slowed them down considerably, making it much easier for Ranja to gouge large chunks of flesh out of them with her claws.

Lirra kept an eye on Elidyr while she fought. Her ultimate goal was to get past these damned white-eyes and reach her uncle. She didn’t know if there was a direct link between Elidyr and his creations, but during the Last War she’d seen wizards whose spells faltered the moment they went down, and so she knew it was possible that if she could render her uncle unconscious-or, if she was forced to, kill him-then the white-eyes might collapse like puppets who’d lost their puppeteer. But try as she might, she was unable to get past the white-eyes. Every time she put one down, another rose to take its place, and by the time that one fell, the first was back on its feet again.

Up to this point, Elidyr had taken no direct part in the fighting. He’d simply stood by and watched as Lirra and the others engaged his creatures and fought desperately to stop them. Four of the Outguard had been killed, and two others had sustained wounds, though they continued to battle on. It was clear to Lirra that if things kept going as they were, it was only a matter of time before she, Ranja, and the Outguard were dead, and Elidyr was victorious.

“This has all been great fun, but I have work to do,” Elidyr said. “Time to finish this. But how? It has to be something good. After all, I don’t want to do second-rate work, not where my brother and niece are concerned.”

Elidyr reached up to stroke his beard, looking thoughtful. A moment later a gleam came into his eyes, and his mouth slowly stretched into a broad smile.

“I know just the thing!”

He raised his hands over his head and released a blast of chaos energy. Lirra felt it slam into her, and she staggered backward, suddenly disoriented. Her allies were similarly affected, and several of the surviving Outguard actually went down on their knees, unable to remain standing upright. Lirra expected that the white-eyes would take advantage of the situation to press their attack, but instead they broke off fighting, turned, and started walking unhurriedly toward Elidyr. They gathered in a group before him and huddled together, pressing their bodies tight one against the other. As they pressed, their flesh began to run like melting butter, and the white-eyes merged into a single large shapeless mass. No longer needed, their clothing slid away and piled on the street, and the skin of the combined creatures took on a whitish hue that resembled the eyes that were no longer visible. Dozens of tentacles extruded from the mass and shot toward Lirra and her allies, encircling waists, arms, and necks like bands of iron.

One white-fleshed tentacle caught Lirra’s sword arm by the wrist, and though she struggled, she was unable to free herself. Her symbiont struck at the tentacle, stinging it with its barbed tip several times in rapid succession, but though the whitish flesh took on a black tinge and the tentacle’s grip slackened, it didn’t weaken enough for Lirra to pull loose.

Everyone else was similarily bound by the white mass-everyone, that was, but Sinnoch, Lirra noted-and though they too tried their best to win free, they were held fast. Even the warforged were unable to get loose. Each of the constructs had multiple tentacles holding him by the arms and legs, and around the chest and waist, their sheer number negating the constructs’ strength. And then, slowly, inexorably, the tentacles began to retract into the central mass, pulling its victims toward it.

Elidyr laughed and clapped his hands like a delighted child.

“I wasn’t certain that was going to work. I’m so glad it did!”

Those Outguard members who’d remained on their horses-Vaddon and Ksana included-had been pulled off by the tentacles, and a number of riderless mounts stood in the street. Several of the steeds fled, terrified by the inhuman monstrosity in their midst, but these were warhorses, trained to stand steady in the face of battle, and many of them remained where they were. Elidyr walked up to the mount Vaddon had been using and swung into the saddle with an easy grace that Lirra had never known him to possess before. It seemed the touch of the daelkyr lord had done more to transform his body than she’d thought. The horse-a black gelding-was less than thrilled to have this human and his three symbionts sitting upon his back, but his training held and he did not rear or buck.

“Farewell, everyone,” Elidyr said. “I’d love to stay and see what happens to you when you’re pulled into the main mass, but I’ve dawdled here long enough, and it really is time for me to take my leave.” He pulled on his mount’s reins and the horse turned toward Sinnoch. “Are you ready, my friend? And do you have what we need?”

“I am, and I do.” The dolgaunt reached behind him to pat a pack tied to the back of his saddle, and with a sinking feeling, Lirra realized what it contained-the Overmantle.

“Excellent! Then we can be off.” Elidyr turned away from Sinnoch. “Choose a horse and hop on, Rhedyn. It’s time to leave.”

At first Lirra didn’t understand what her uncle was talking about, but then she saw that the white tentacles had left Rhedyn alone just as they had Sinnoch. Rhedyn stood in the street, looking like a living shadow, and as Lirra watched, the dark aspect faded until Rhedyn resembled a man standing in light shade, despite the fact the sun was shining down upon him. The implications struck her as hard as any blow from the hammer-fisted warforged ever could have. Rhedyn was in league with Elidyr and Sinnoch. Despite the evidence of her own eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. She told herself it was just more of Elidyr’s insane ramblings and couldn’t possibly be real.

“Rhedyn!” Lirra called out. “You can’t go with them! You’re a member of the Outguard and a soldier of Karrnath! Stay with us, fight with us!” She wanted to say: Stay with me! but she couldn’t make herself speak the words.

Rhedyn gave her a look that was impossible to read before turning away and walking to the nearest horse. He swung himself up into the saddle, took hold of the reins, and then, with a last look at Lirra, he turned the horse about, touched his heels to the horse’s sides, flicked the reins, and the animal began galloping down the street. Elidyr and Sinnoch followed close behind.

Lirra watched them ride off, despair welling up inside her. But the feeling was quickly choked off by a rising tide of anger. She remembered his visit to her bedchamber on the night before the test of the Overmantle, remembered the things he’d said, the feelings he’d attempted to express … Nothing but lies.

Fury roared through her like a firestorm, and she vowed that whatever else happened, she would not die this day, absorbed into a disgusting mass of flesh. If nothing else, she’d survive to make certain that Rhedyn paid for his betrayal of the Outguard-and for betraying her.

The thing the white-eyes had merged into had continued pulling Lirra and the others toward it while Elidyr, Sinnoch, and Rhedyn rode off, and they were within three yards of the main mass. At this rate, Lirra judged they had a minute at most before they were pulled into the pile of flesh, and what would happen then? Would their own flesh and bones liquefy as they became part of the creature? Or would they merely suffocate as their air was cut off? The warforged would likely survive in either event, but the rest of them would not. Lirra thought furiously, determined not to die before she could have her vengeance. She found herself remembering a lesson her father had taught her long ago, when she was a child learning to spar with a wooden practice sword.

“Every opponent has a weakness,” he’d told her. “The trick is figuring out what it is in time to do you any good.”

Assuming this creature had a weakness, what could it possibly be? And how could they exploit it in the few seconds remaining to them? Lirra rapidly went over what she knew about the monstrous conglomerate. It was comprised of the bodies of people whom Elidyr had reshaped into mindless, supernaturally strong servants. He’d transformed them using powers granted to him by a daelkyr lord, powers that originated in Xoriat, the Realm of Madness. She didn’t know if those powers were, strickly speaking, evil, at least in a metaphysical sense, but they seemed close enough to her. And if they were based in evil, that meant …

“Ksana!” she called out.

Though Lirra couldn’t see every member of the Outguard, for the fleshy mass of the creature stood before her and some of the others, she could still see the cleric. The woman was off to her left, and Lirra was glad to see she’d managed to retain hold of her halberd.

The half-elf’s face was scrunched in concentration as she hacked at the tentacle encircling her waist with her halberd, but whatever damage she inflicted healed before she could strike again.

“What?” Ksana called back, not pausing in her attack on the tentacle that gripped her.

“Do you remember what you did at the Battle of Corran Ridge?”

At first Ksana looked at Lirra without comprehension, but then awareness slowly filtered into her gaze. “But that was an entirely different situation! The creature they sent at us was a battalion of Karrnathi zombies that had been abducted and merged into a single massive creature! This thing isn’t undead! I don’t know if I can-”

“It’s evil, isn’t it? Besides, whatever the damned thing is, it’s going to be the death of us in less than a minute if someone doesn’t do something!”

Lirra thought the cleric was going to protest further, but instead she nodded and then turned to face the conglomerate creature. Her expression grew placid, almost serene, and Lirra knew she was preparing her spirit for what was to come. And then Ksana gripped her halberd tight and stopped resisting the pull of the fleshy mass that had been the white-eyes. Instead she ran toward it, her halberd blazing with bright light as the cleric channeled the power of her goddess-the power of the sun-into her weapon. When the half-elf reached the main mass of the creature, she raised her halberd high and cried out, “In the name of Dol Arrah, I command you to begone, foul thing!”

And Ksana brought the halberd down upon the creature with all of her might, burying the axe head into its pulpy flesh.

Dazzling light burst forth from the wound Ksana made, and though the creature possessed no mouth, Lirra heard its death cry in her mind, accompanied by a pain like someone had jammed a white-hot dagger blade into one ear and out the other. But there was another voice within her mind. Voices, actually. Men, women, and children, all of them saying the same thing: Thank you.

And then the conglomerate creature exploded like an overripe melon, and a putrid, viscous slime gushed onto the street. The tentacles gripping Lirra and the others fell limp and collapsed to the ground, releasing them. The Outguard soldiers didn’t stand around once they were free though. They rushed forward and began hacking away at the creature’s remains with their swords, just to make sure the damned thing was dead. Lirra wasn’t concerned about the creature anymore. She was worried about Ksana. The cleric, now that her work was done, staggered back from the remains of the creature, dragging her halberd because she was too weak to lift it. Her face was pale, her eyes unfocused, and Lirra knew Ksana was on the verge of collapse. The same thing had happened at Corran’s Ridge, and Lirra remembered how Ksana had explained it to her afterward.

“I don’t perform miracles, child. Dol Arrah does. I’m just the tool she uses to work her will in the world. But while my goddess has no limitations, the same can’t be said about her servants. We are a vessel for Dol Arrah’s holy might, but a mortal body can only channel so much divine power without sustaining damage. Stopping that undead monstrosity was nearly the death of me. I hope the goddess never calls on me to do anything like that again-at least, not anytime soon!”

Lirra saw her father heading for Ksana as well. No doubt he remembered what had happened at Corran’s Ridge as well as Lirra did. After all, the general had been in command that day.

Ksana’s legs began to buckle. Lirra flicked her left arm, and the tentacle whip sailed toward Ksana and wrapped around the cleric’s midsection just in time to prevent her falling. Ksana’s body went limp as she lost consciousness, but the symbiont held her upright. Shock showed on Vaddon’s face, only to be quickly replaced by outrage.

Lirra and her father made it to Ksana at the same time. The general started to reach toward the cleric, but then he fixed his gaze upon the tentacle whip and withdrew his hands. He then looked at his daughter, fury blazing in his eyes.

“How dare you touch a holy woman with that unclean thing!” Vaddon said. “Remove it at once!”

Lirra was hurt by her father’s tone and the expression of loathing on his face.

“I’ll withdraw the symbiont,” she said. “Just make sure you’re ready to catch Ksana when I do.”

Vaddon nodded. Lirra commanded the tentacle whip to release the cleric, and the symbiont slowly unwrapped itself from around the half-elf’s waist. Vaddon was ready, and he easily caught the cleric’s slight frame with his armored hands. He cradled her in his arms as if she were a child as the tentacle whip coiled around Lirra’s left arm once more and lay still. Evidently the symbiont’s lust for violence had been sated, at least for the time being.

Vaddon looked at her, his expression difficult to read. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, as if thinking better of it, and turned his attention away from Lirra to check on Ksana.

Lirra looked away from her father to examine the aftermath of the battle. The people of Geirrid, who’d wisely remained hidden during the struggle with the conglomerate beast, poked their heads out of doorways and windows to see if it was safe to go back outside. The Outguard soldiers had finished carving up the creature’s remains, and they were using its tentacles to haul the larger chunks into the gutter so they’d be out of the way. Garrison soldiers would be dispatched later to clear away the mess, although Lirra didn’t know if there would be anything for them to clean up. The creature’s flesh was beginning to liquefy at a fairly rapid rate, and Lirra wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t anything left before long. Ranja had assumed her fully human form once more, and she grumbled to herself as she scraped her boots against the street curb to get the viscous muck off them.

Lirra turned to see Osten approaching.

“Are you all right, Lirra?” The young warrior had sheathed his sword, and though he was sweaty from his exertions, he appeared little the worse for wear.

“I’m unwounded,” Lirra said. She was glad to see that Osten looked at her directly, without suspicion or loathing in his gaze. The other Outguard soldiers kept sneaking glances at her, and while she had once been second in command over them, they now looked at her as if she were a stranger, and a dangerous one at that. But Osten had been host to the same symbiont she now carried, and if there was anyone in the Outguard who could understand what it was like for her, it was him.

Osten gave her a sad smile. “I wasn’t referring to your physical health,” he said softly.

She remembered then that Osten had fought back to back with Rhedyn against the white-eyes, and he’d no doubt witnessed Rhedyn betray them as he’d departed with Elidyr and Sinnoch.

“I’m fine.” It was a lie, and from the look on Osten’s face, he knew it, but the young warrior had the good grace to nod and say nothing more about the matter.

While Lirra had been talking with Osten, Ksana had recovered enough to stand on her own feet. Vaddon stepped away from her and approached Lirra. As he came, he drew his sword and leveled it at her. There was sadness in his gaze, but his voice was steady as he spoke.

“Lirra Brochann, in the name of King Kaius and his code, I place you under arrest.”

Vaddon stopped when his sword point was a foot away from Lirra’s heart, and though she could see the conflict in her father’s eyes over holding a weapon on his own daughter, his hand remained steady and the sword point never wavered.

“You can’t be serious, General!” Osten said. “Lirra is one of us!”

Vaddon’s gaze flicked toward Lirra’s left arm. “Not anymore,” he said, his voice now thick with the emotions he struggled to contain. “Please, Lirra … don’t resist. Let me help you.”

Vaddon was pleading with her in the same way she had with Elidyr, and the irony didn’t escape her. Out of the corner of her eye, Lirra noted the remaining Outguard soldiers moving in to surround her. She was also aware of Osten taking up a defensive stance next to her, and she knew he intended to fight with her, should it come to that. Ranja just stood off to the side, watching, as did Ksana, the cleric still too weak to participate in the drama unfolding before her.

Lirra had no doubt that she could escape if she wished to. She could use her whip to poison the soldiers if she wished, direct its barb to put out their eyes or command it to coil around their necks and snap them with a twist, and she would be free to go after her uncle. Elidyr was still at large, and now he had the Overmantle in his possession once more. He would be able to repair it in short order, and once the device was functional again, there would be nothing to stop him from opening a doorway to Xoriat, releasing the daelkyr lord and who knew what other abominations into their world. And she wanted to catch up to Rhedyn and demand to know how he could betray them like that, how he could betray her. All it would take was a single thought, a slight loosening of her mental reins, and her symbiont would do the rest. The tentacle whip would strike, Vaddon would go down, and she could flee to do what had to be done.

The thought-voice whispered in her mind then.

Do it! Rhedyn isn’t the only one who’s betrayed you this day. Your own father has drawn his sword against you. How many times have the two of you fought on the same battlefield? You supported each other after the deaths of your mother and brother, found a way to keep going when the grief seemed like it would swallow you both whole. And now here you stand, in the middle of a slime-covered street in Geirrid, and your father is demanding your arrest. Strike him down! He deserves nothing less!

Lirra’s left hand twitched, and she felt the tentacle whip begin to uncoil from around her forearm, but then she regained control and commanded the symbiont to remain where it was. The whip was less than pleased but did as it was told.

Lirra still held onto her own sword, and she sheathed it. Then she bowed her head.

“I’ll go with you, Father.”

A number of emotions passed rapidly across Vaddon’s face: relief, guilt, and sorrow. He then ordered his soldiers to take his daughter into custody. Osten stepped back, evidently unwilling to comply with Vaddon’s order, but he made no move to stop the other soldiers as they advanced. Lirra was glad. She didn’t want Osten getting hurt trying to defend her-especially when she didn’t want to be defended.

As a pair of soldiers grabbed her arms, the thought-voice whispered in her mind once more.

You’re going to regret not running when you had the chance.

And as the soldiers began to march her down the street, while the rest of the Outguard fell into line, Lirra wondered if the symbiont would be proven right.