"By all the gods," Caledan whispered hoarsely. "It is the Shadowking."
"Yes, and he is the master of us all!" Snake cried out in rapture. "Bow down before the darkness that will rule forevermore!" Snake abased himself before the dais, lying prostrate before the undulating form of the Shadowking.
Caledan saw something moving to his left, and he turned to see Morhion standing behind the Harper, a small knife in his hand. Was this to be the mage's final treachery? Then to Caledan's amazement, he watched as Morhion deftly cut the leather thongs that bound Mari's wrists, then bent down and cut the rope that hobbled her ankles. She stared at him, but he had already hurried on to free Estah and Ferret. Snake saw none of this. His attention was upon the form of the Shadowking.
In moments Morhion stood behind Caledan, who felt the mage's knife slit his bonds. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered savagely. "What more do you seek to gain, mage?"
"We do not have time for explanations," Morhion said with infuriating calm. The mage also cut the rope binding Caledan's ankles.
Free of her bonds, the Harper had started toward the dais. She closed her hand about the reed pipes. Snake looked up, fury blazing in his eyes.
"Caledan!" Mari shouted as she threw the pipes in his direction. Even as the instrument arced through the air Snake reached out an arm toward the Harper and spoke a word of magic. A jagged stream of poisonous light burst from his fingertips, striking Mari full in the chest. The force of the blast hurled her backward, and she crumpled without a word, her face white. She did not move.
Caledan caught the pipes but stood as if frozen. At that moment he knew he had been a fool. He loved the Harper as much as he had ever loved Kera. Perhaps even more. But he had been prideful and realized his true feelings too late. Now Mari was gone as well. His shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Will you let her sacrifice mean nothing?" Morhion whispered in his ear. Caledan turned to the mage. More than ever he wanted to kill Morhion. But that could wait. With one last glance at the runes inscribed upon the seven columns, he lifted the pipes to his lips.
"Play a single note, and the boy dies," a soft, sibilant voice said. Snake stood before the dais, holding Kellen tightly by the shoulder. A bare inch from the boy's neck Snake held a thin, golden needle. "The needle is coated with a poison called telsiak. Believe me when I tell you that the child will be quite dead before you can play a second note."
Caledan stared at the thin, hard-faced lord steward for a long moment. He sighed, lowering the pipes. He could not do it. He had lost Kera. Now Mari lay unmoving, almost certainly dead. How could he let himself lose his newfound son as well?
"No, Father!" Kellen cried out. "You don't have to do what he says. Isn't that what you told me?" The boy's voice was plaintive, but there was something different about his eyes…
"I'm… I'm sorry, Kellen." Caledan let the pipes slip from his fingers.
"In the name of the Abyss, look above!" Ferret shouted, Pointing to the crypt's domed ceiling. Involuntarily, Snake turned his gaze upward. There was nothing there but shadows. Too late the lord steward realized he had fallen for the oldest trick of all.
He winced in pain as he looked down at the golden needle protruding from his chest. In the instant when he had looked away, the boy had grabbed his hand and turned the needle into the lord steward's body.
"Master…" Snake said as he pulled out the needle. But that was all. In the space of a heartbeat his lips turned blue, and his hands stiffened into rigid claws. He toppled to the floor. His hard eyes stared blankly forward, as dull and lifeless as stones. The lord steward Snake was dead.
But the Shadowking was not.
"Thanks for the distraction, Ferret," Caledan said grimly to the thief.
"Don't mention it." the thief replied. "Though you might want to start worrying about that." He nodded toward the dais.
The Shadowking was nearly complete. Muscles and veins writhed like serpents beneath skin as dark and smooth as night. Its legs were as thick as columns, ending in cloven hooves. It flexed its powerful arms; long, dark talons sprang from its fingertips. A tail lined with jagged, saw-toothed barbs cracked like a whip in the air. All that remained indistinct was the Shadowking's face. And slowly, inexorably, that too was taking shape.
"Do something, Father!" Kellen cried, running forward.
"Play the shadow song, Caledan," Estah said, her voice strong and reassuring.
"Now would be a good time," Ferret added.
Caledan reached down and picked up the pipes. His fingers felt numb, and he fumbled, nearly dropping the pipes. It had been so many years since he had played music. He feared he would not remember how. He feared that he had read incorrectly the Talfir letters inscribed upon the columns. Then a hand reached up and touched his own, a hand that was small but strong. He did not need to look to know it was Kellen's. Suddenly all his fear slipped away, all his regrets and bitterness. And then there was only music.
He played a first, clear note-a wistful, almost optimistic sound. Talek Talembar had not told him to listen for the echo of the song in the place it had last been played. Talembar had told him to look for the echo of the song. That was the key.
He played the second note of the song, higher in pitch, a pure, ringing note. What the words written in Talfir said, Caledan wasn't certain, but he knew enough of the ancient language to recognize what letters the runes stood for, and that was enough. The first letter of each word was a note of music. It had been so terribly obvious, a puzzle so simple any apprentice minstrel would have seen it, yet anyone who could not read music would never have understood.
Caledan played the third note, this one lower, more ominous, a note of power. The pipes felt warm in his hands.
"I don't mean to be pushy, but you might want to hurry it up," Ferret whispered, jerking his head toward the dais.
Slowly the Shadowking had begun to draw itself up to its full, towering height, spreading its arms wide. Two batlike wings unfurled from its back. The Nightstone pulsed lividly in the center of its misshapen chest as hot and red as blood. Now the Shadowking's visage was coming into focus, but its face was not the face of a man, not like that of the death mask on the sarcophagus. Instead it was the face of a beast. Fangs like obsidian knives protruded from its maw, oozing dark ichor.
Caledan almost faltered as he played the fourth note, but he clenched his fingers tightly about the pipes and forced himself to breathe. The music continued. The entire chamber was beginning to resonate with it. Each of the notes echoed off the dark stone, interweaving with the others. He played the fifth note, then the sixth. He was trembling now. The sound of the echoing song was growing deeper, more complex.
The Shadowking took a step forward. Its cloven hoof cracked the stone of the dais. It took another step, and more stone crumbled beneath its ponderous stride. It reached out a claw, straight toward Caledan. The last outlines of its twisted face coalesced. It opened its maw to let out a roar of triumph, and a crimson flame burst to life in its eyes. After a thousand years of entombment, the Shadow-king lived again.
Bow to me! a vast and ancient voice thundered within Caledan's mind. Terror clawed brutally at his heart. Bow to me, I am Darkness!
Caledan shook his head against the crushing power of the voice, struggling to stay upright. Summoning his last few shreds of will, he played the final note of the shadow song.
The vast harmony that echoed about the crypt was suddenly complete, becoming a single chord of deep and ancient power. The music soared to a deafening volume. Caledan fell to his knees, dropping the pipes and covering his ears. The others did the same.