Flayzeranyx was here.
But that, too, would soon end!
Indeed, the kender was his slave now, the skull giving Fistandantilus the power at last to overwhelm his host's limited powers of resistance. The wretch would suffer before he died, but first there was another task to perform. Still maintaining his focus, Fistandantilus felt the nearness of the bloodstone. He gathered his might, plunging through the recesses of the kender's mind, taking full control.
Emilo Haversack sidled to the side, until he crouched next to the prone form of Kelryn Darewind. The bloodstone was there, and through the skull, the archmage could at last bring the kender under his control.
And Fistandantilus hungered for the nearness, the imminence, of killing.
CHAPTER 41
Third Bakukal, Reapember
374 AC
Fistandantilus felt the flush of power as the kender's hands touched either side of the skull. The circle was complete and needed only the explosion of blood and magic to bring the archmage's scheme to fruition. His will, his memories, and his presence coalesced into a single powerful entity, an entity with a growing semblance of control.
At the same time, he felt the pulse, the heated throbbing of the bloodstone. It was coming from nearby, and with the skull, it would make him complete.
Yet still there was that cursed, impenetrable interference that was somehow tied into the presence of the boy.
CHAPTER 42
Third Bakukal, Reapember
In the split second of recognition, Danyal knew that the wave of dragon awe was imminent and inevitable. Even so, the reality of the red monster's presence jellied his knees and felled him like a corpse-except that he was still alive, gasping and horrified as he lay helpless on the floor. Mirabeth, Foryth, and even Kelryn Dare-wind had been similarly staggered by the serpent's arrival, though the bandit lord had fallen on top of the girl, pinning her in place with his weight. The four humans stared, in various stages of immobility and fear, from where they had collapsed.
Only Emilo still stood. Danyal remembered the kender's nonchalance when the dragon had flown over Loreloch, but even when he saw the proof repeated before his eyes, he wondered how it could be that his companion could remain upright, apparently unconcerned, in the face of that lethal and overwhelming presence.
In fact, Emilo, still holding the skull, now sauntered past Kelryn Darewind, without taking advantage of the fact that he was behind the bandit. He could have pulled Mirabeth to safety! Instead, he walked away from the others, head upturned to regard the massive dragon.
The serpentine monster's neck twisted, bringing the reptilian visage downward with a rasp of dry scales until the twin nostrils gaped before the companions. A small puff of black smoke emerged from the flaring snout, and Danyal coughed reflexively. Kelryn Darewind was still awestruck, staring at the wyrm.
Strangely, the explosive convulsion of his lungs seemed to bring some semblance of control to his limbs, and Dan was able to push himself to his hands and knees.
Crawling to Mirabeth's side, he took her hand, grateful for the returning pressure of her fingers.
"Now," he mouthed.
Mirabeth nodded, and Dan pulled on her hand as she tried to roll away. But the false priest overcame enough of his own terror to twist, to threaten with the knife pressed now against the young woman's back.
She groaned in pain and, with a grimace of bitter dismay, Dan froze.
"Look!" Mirabeth gasped.
Still clenching her hand, Dan turned to see Emilo standing, apparently dazed, before the dragon's broad nose. The scarlet jaws gaped slightly, revealing a multitude of teeth, the largest of which were easily as big as the blade of Danyal's knife.
"The skull of Fistandantilus belongs to me," hissed the dragon wickedly.
"No. The skull belongs to no one-no one except itself," replied the kender.
At least, the words came from Emilo Haversack, but the voice was deeper and more forceful than the kender's familiar chatter.
Emilo studied the bony artifact that he held in his hands. Then he raised his head once again, calmly meeting the dragon's glare.
With a deliberate movement, the kender tucked the skull under his arm, the bony face looking backward. With the opposite hand, he reached into a pouch at his side and pulled forth a gold chain, from which dangled the pendant of a familiar gem.
"My bloodstone!" Kelryn Darewind's shriek was a thin, piercing blade of sound. Eyes wide, the man grasped at his shirt with his left hand. His right still held the knife with white-knuckled intensity, the tip of the blade digging cruelly into Mirabeth's back.
The skull stared from its black eye sockets, grinning with locked, rigid teeth.
"If you are wise, red serpent, you will withdraw immediately and you will have a chance to live."
The words came from the kender, but again this was not Emilo Haversack speaking. The diminutive figure cradled the skull as he allowed the glowing gemstone to sway dizzyingly back and forth.
The dragon snorted, and Danyal was momentarily certain that they would all be engulfed and killed by a lethal explosion of flame. But something-perhaps it was merely a desire to protect the treasures from harm- held Flayze's deadly attack in check.
Instead, the great serpent flicked a claw, striking Emilo in the chest, propelling him backward with violent force. The kender's body smashed onto the ground, bounced, and collided with Foryth Teel. The historian caught Emilo's limp form and gently lowered him to the floor.
Somehow the skull and the pendant had remained with the frail body through that violent assault, and now, as blood seeped from a deep wound in the kender's chest, the grinning death's-head lay between Emilo's feet while the pendant rested nearby on the floor. The pale green light pulsed from the stone, bright even in the fiery illumination of the dragon's lair.
Kelryn Darewind, his features locked in an expression of horror, lunged toward the stone, then whirled as Mirabeth took the chance to dive away from him. She scrambled across the floor, and the bandit lord darted after her, then backed off with a snarl as Danyal faced him with the large, curving knife. Foryth Teel, in the meantime, gently probed at the mess that was the kender's chest.
"Is he…?" Danyal glanced at the bloody figure and was horrified to see the white flash of Emilo's ribs through the tear in his chest.
"He's alive." Grimly the historian pointed at a pulsing muscle, and the lad was vaguely aware that he was seeing a part of the kender's heart.
Abruptly Foryth raised his head. His eyes bored into the dragon, and his thin body went rigid and taut in a way Danyal had never seen.
"For years I have strived to remain aloof, to let history weave its tales without my interference or my judgment."
His tone hardened, and he shook a narrow fist in the air. Foryth's eyes were wild, and his forehead was slick with sweat. "But this is too much! Fate is too cruel, and I blame all you who would be the great shapers of history!"
The historian drew a firm breath and stood. "This one is innocent, and he has been wrongly used!"
Foryth Teel was shouting aloud now, in a voice that seemed powerful enough to overwhelm the volcanic tremors of the angry mountain.
"How dare you!" The historian's voice was choked with passion, a whiplike force of anger lashing at the monstrous serpent.