Reapember, 374 AC
It was so close now-the bloodstone was right here. He could almost feel it, could almost touch and taste the powerful talisman that was at the very heart of his immortal existence.
But there was still interference, a fog of mysterious power that masked itself even as it competed for the artifact. It was a shield that refused to let him pass, denied him his ultimate triumph.
It wasn't the boy who was the cause of his frustration; he knew that with certainty now. Instead, it was an arcane force, a mysterious and extremely powerful essence that was for some reason centered around, but not within, the human lad.
He possessed a talisman of arcane might that acted to thwart the will and intentions of the archmage. Even worse, there was something strangely familiar about that competing power, and it was every bit the equal of the archmage's own might.
And that meant that it was most assuredly something to be feared.
CHAPTER 40
Third Misham, Reapember
374 AC
"There-the twin peaks, with the smoking crater between them. That has to be the place," declared Foryth Teel. His excitement over the discovery apparently overcame the fatigue, fear, and anger that had been with the companions constantly on their long, difficult trek through the High Kharolis.
For a moment Dan felt his frustration and anger expanding to encompass the historian, who could be so detached about their own circumstances, but the lad quickly quelled the emotion, saving his antipathy for their real enemy.
"The lake is steaming," Kelryn Darewind added.
"That's got to be the boiling lake that shows on your map."
The bandit's knife remained pressed against Mira-beth's throat, though the man conversed about the view as if she weren't even there. "The lair-and the skull of Fistandantilus-has got to be somewhere up that mountainside."
"Let's see " Foryth Teel was not entirely convinced.
He flipped open his book, tracing his fingers across the symbols on the page. "I see the boiling lake, and there we have the twin conical summits. But the glacier- there's supposed to be a glacier."
For the thousandth time, Danyal's hand closed around the hilt of his knife, and he cast a sidelong glance toward Kelryn Dare wind. As always, it seemed the man had anticipated his interest. He winked, flashing the lad a smile as cold as the stare of a dead fish.
"I have to admit this looks like the place," declared Emilo Haversack.
"Sure," Kelryn chatted easily about the connection. "The two mountains are both pointed. And that one has a glacier on the south face, just like the map shows. Now, let's move."
"Then that means the lair should be a cave mouth about halfway up the right-hand peak," Foryth concluded triumphantly and with as much confidence, Danyal thought sourly, as if he were describing where in the marketplace one might find a vendor of melons. Still, the historian refused to be hastened as he scrutinized the view.
Dan fought valiantly against the misery and hopelessness that threatened once again to drop him in his tracks. His only desire was to rescue Mirabeth, to get her away from Kelryn's hands long enough to exact revenge upon the bandit lord.
And then… and then what?
He didn't know. Of course, in the eight days since they had departed ruined Loreloch, Danyal had come to share some of the historian's sense of their task's importance. He recalled grimly the warning Foryth Teel had issued about the menace presented by the prospect of Kelryn Darewind's success.
Indeed, Dan had spent some of the last long nights thinking about those prospects. If the cruel bandit gained the power to travel through time, he could use that might to create an awful regime, a place devoted to violence and the worship of the vile, corrupt sorcerer.
The journey had been difficult as the five of them had made their way through rugged mountainous country. Yet the days outdoors had hardened them all, and they had learned to take advantage of what shelter they could find. Usually they had camped without a fire, unwilling to draw attention to themselves, for they all feared the great serpent whose lair was the object of their quest.
Huddling together under their two blankets, they had weathered the first blustery chill of autumn, determined to bring their quest to a successful conclusion.
Three times they had been brought to a halt as the kender was violently afflicted by one of his spells. Each had seemed, at least to Danyal, a little more severe than those that had come before. The first time Kelryn Dare-wind had been ready to kill the unfortunate kender. It had been Mirabeth who had quashed that idea, making it clear that she would sacrifice herself before she would allow it. Kelryn had been unwilling to relinquish his hostage, and for the first time, Dan had seen that the bandit lord was, in fact, as frightened as the rest of them of being left alone.
For hours following that attack, Emilo had been unfocused, his eyes haunted by memories that he could not- or would not-recall. On the next occasions, Kelryn had reluctantly, and impatiently, waited for the kender to regain his senses and mobility.
Fortunately they had seen no sign of the dragon. If Flayze had returned to his lair after destroying Loreloch, then he had either remained there or flown into a different portion of his territory. Now they regarded the mountain, sure that the monster lived here and anxious to find the safest route of ascent.
Danyal wondered for a moment if, now that they had discovered the location, Kelryn might try to kill them. The lad resolved that wouldn't happen without a fight. But apparently the bandit lord was still frightened of the prospects of going on alone.
"You will go first, along with the kender and the historian," Kelryn informed Dan. "The lass and I will follow along behind, just to make perfectly sure the rest of you stay honest."
"If you harm her…" Danyal didn't complete the threat, but the fury burned hot in his eyes. Kelryn Dare-wind merely shrugged.
"Let's see… we can ascend the peak just about anywhere," Foryth Teel suggested, anxiously changing the subject. "It doesn't look like a real tricky mountain to climb."
"I think we should follow that gully," Dan suggested, pointing to a ravine that scored deep through the rough ground on the mountain's lower slope. "At least we'll stay out of sight from the lair."
The others agreed, and they used the waning hours of daylight to reach the foot of the conical summit. The lake of steaming water was nearby, off to their left, and even from a quarter mile away they could see that the surface of the water actually boiled in places, bubbles gurgling explosively upward, a roiled swath of waves churning into steam. A thick plume of water vapor rose from the lake, shrouding the valley in a nearly eternal fog, and they were grateful for the added concealment, even as the clammy air kept the perspiration on their skin from dissipating and matted their hair and clothing into a perpetually damp mess.
Despite the boiling lake, the air chilled rapidly with the coming of night. A cool wind blew down from the heights, and their breath frosted in the air as the four companions and their brutal enemy started the ascent.
At least the gully proved to be a good choice of a route. Though they occasionally had to maneuver around large rocks or short, precipitous drops in the sloping floor of the ravine, the party was able to climb in a trench with walls rising twenty or thirty feet high to either side. For hour after hour, they made their way upward, pausing rarely for a few minutes of rest, but then immediately turning back to the challenges of the steep ravine floor.