"You don't think I'm real?" the girl screamed, her voice taking on the hearty volume of a child's tantrum. "I am here! I am alive!" The faux Ailyn reached forward and punched her chubby fist into Raidon's calf. Her hand moved right through his body as if she were a ghost.
Pain exploded in his leg. He fell as the muscles in his limb gave out all at once.
Luckily the girl didn't press her advantage. It took Raidon a heartbeat to shut the pain out. He rolled away and stood in a single, smooth motion. Back on his feet, the monk swept Angul free of its sheath. The pain was smoothed away by the sword's instant attention. Simultaneously, a portion of his anxiety dimmed, leaving him feeling clearheaded and calm.
The image of the girl remained. Not merely a trick of the mind then, if Angul could sense it too.
"You are real, in some sense," Raidon allowed, keeping the blade between himself and the small form. "But I am not your father, nor do I know where to find him. But—if you let me pass without touching me as you just did, I can come back for you. How does that sound?"
The child's face grew hopeful. "Promise? I don't like it here at all. It's scary."
"Yes. That it is. Now, step aside so we don't accidentally collide, all right? When I finish what I must do, I'll find you here. Is it a deal?"
The temperature of the Cerulean Sign dropped. As it did, the girl's features shuddered. She gasped as if in pain.
"What's wrong?" he asked. He took a half step closer.
Angul said, She is a memory loosed by the Eldest's unconscious to delay you. It will not agree to your bargains.
Sweep it away.
"She's only a little girl," Raidon countered, his voice pleading. She is a remnant of a little girl, a hollow shell filled with aberration that must be purged, said Angul.
"No!"
The child in question raised her head. She lifted her arms in a manner Ailyn used to in order to beg a hug. "My name is Opal. Take me with you?"
The temperature of his spellscar dropped further. He retreated a pace.
"When I've done what I need to, your mind will be your own. Can you just stay here until then? It may be hard.
Perhaps the hardest thing you've ever had to do. But if you stay put and do not follow me, I can save you."
The girl's whole frame vibrated and she yelped. She blinked out of view for an instant, but then returned, her form translucent and hazy.
Opal said, "It hurts. But I can try. If you hurry!"
Raidon bolted from the room, leaving the little girl behind. Tears broke out on his cheeks. He wanted to sweep her up and hold her close against all the dangers of Xxiphu.
But the best thing he could do for her was slay the Eldest, so that her mind would at least remain her own, even if she was only a lost dream. He hoped the creature's death would give her peace.
When he returned to the place where the corridors diverged, he found Opal waiting. She stood in the center of the corridor with her shoulders slouched and her head drooping over her chest in a sorrowful pose. Her unbound hair fell across her features.
"Opal, I told you to stay—"
The girl loosed a raw hunting scream that no human throat could ever hope to achieve. Raidon's breath began to steam as the Cerulean Sign violently reacted to the sound reverberating in the corridor.
The child slowly lifted her gaze. It was much changed from the frightened, tearful face Raidon had pleaded with moments earlier. Jagged lines of care etched it, as if the girl had aged decades in an eyeblink. Her mouth was unhinged and opened on a black void that reminded Raidon of what he'd seen on Xxiphu's crown in the schematic.
The Eldest filled her like a hand inside a puppet.
Kill her, Angul said.
"No. I will not. I... cannot."
Opal produced her hunting scream once more and advanced on him.
Raidon raised Angul. The sword blazed with cerulean fire and attempted to sweep up and out in an arc that would have decapitated the child's image. The half-elf restrained the willful blade.
"Leave her alone," he said, talking not only to his wayward sword but also to the foulness that controlled Opal.
"I will find you regardless of wnether I disrupt this lone memory. Leave her, and I will not be forced to slay you when I find you!"
You cannot bargain with the unconscious mind of the Eldest aboleth. You can only slay it and any puppets it creates.
Raidon moved to his left, keeping Angul between him and the possessed memory. He said, "If I can avoid destroying her, I shall!"
She need not kill you, only distract you long enough for the ritual to be completed.
Raidon realized the Blade Cerulean, for all its headstrong ways, spoke the truth.
A deep sound, like underground waters rushing below his feet, snatched Raidon's attention back down the corridor where he'd originally entered.
The sound came from the two facing ice slabs lining the tunnel. The ice was cracking, breaking, and crumbling.
It was a cave-in, except that as each piece struck the floor it shattered into motes of glowing steam. The mist immediately swirled past the girl and Raidon up the passage he intended to travel. In the void left behind, dozens of figures stood blinking in confusion. Confusion that lasted only heartbeats.
The newly released memories rotated as if of one mind until each regarded the monk with smoldering eyes.
They all simultaneously loosed screams, each as horrid as Opal's. In concert, the sound nearly froze Raidon to the spot and stopped his heart.
Angul's flame dipped, then resurged twice as bright. Its warmth seared Raidon's flesh, chasing out the incipient chill in a painful instant.
Opal, the closest of the advancing horde, leaped for the monk's throat.
He sobbed as he cut the five-year-old down with a single stroke. Her scream caused the other images to pause.
Opal's gruesome face fell slack and resumed her earlier innocent visage. She sighed, catching Raidon's eyes.
"Why?" she whispered. Then her image broke into so many chasing sparks.
Raidon watched the sparks fade out like campfire embers. He saw the other images, memories, and captured dreams resume their headlong charge. He was aware of his face turning red and his mouth distorting into the raving scream of a berserker. He took note of but did not feel tears stream from his eyes and reflect Angul's avenging flame. He fell upon the possessed figures like a blood-crazed predator.
Raidon saw all of this from a distance, for he no longer seemed to inhabit his own body.
Why? Because when he struck down the girl, who might as well have been Ailyn herself, Raidon went mad.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Xxiphu, Gallery of Seeing
Japheth walked up a sloped corridor crusted with steaming memories.
His hands were steady and his vision unstained by dust. New abilities and insights swarmed in his blood, eager to manifest as spells should he call them. He was'almost elated, but couldn't quite allow himself that pleasure.
Whenever he recalled the ultimate origin of his new spells, a chill shivered down his spine.
One of those spells even allowed him to see Anusha in her golden armor, as well as Anusha's yellow-hued companion who walked ahead, without recourse to the tin of dust hidden in his cloak. Already his new pact was proving useful—above and beyond the usefulness of saving his life, of course.
The warlock realized his hope was on the rise. He knew full well there could be, in fact likely would be, repercussions following the drastic choice he'd made. It was even possible he could fall into the same sort of servitude that marked the first pact he'd sworn to the Lord of Bats. Well, probably even worse than what he'd endured under the terms of his first pact, before he escaped its strictures. The alien stars cared less about mortal kind than even bloodthirsty Neifion.