“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.”