Rhedyn edged closer to Elidyr. “You haven’t touched any of the pieces since you laid them out,” he said. “Do you think you can fix it?”
The stormstalk draped around Elidyr’s shoulders turned its milky eye toward Rhedyn, and Elidyr could feel the symbiont’s irritation. It wanted nothing more than to unleash a bolt of lightning at the man, if for no other reason than to shut him up. Elidyr sympathized with his friend, but he told it to have patience.
We can always kill the fool later. Right now we have need of him.
The stormstalk relaxed, though Elidyr could sense it was only partially mollified. In some ways, having three symbionts was like having three children that needed to be placated and disciplined from time to time. But the power they granted made them worth the effort.
“I’ve been studying the remains of the Overmantle, getting a feel for what damage was done to the device and what I’ll need to do to fix it. As I don’t have proper replacement parts-let alone the right tools to do the job-I’m going to have to improvise. But improvisation is an artificer’s stock in trade. I should be able to make do.” He glanced up at Rhedyn. “That is, if I’m left alone to do my work.”
It had taken them the better part of two days to travel from Geirrid to Sinnoch’s hidden cave in the Nightwood. The horses had been near death by the time they’d reached their destination. Sinnoch had taken great delight in putting the beasts out of their misery in spectacularly gruesome fashion, though Rheydn had seemed a bit put off by the dolgaunt’s actions-especially when he began jamming bloody chunks of horse meat and organs into his overlarge mouth. Elidyr wasn’t entirely certain of the lad’s dedication to their cause. His mental outlook seemed distressingly mundane, as if he hadn’t allowed his symbiont to fully open his mind to the boundless possibilities of chaos yet. Hopefully, that would change in the days to come. If not … well, Sinnoch might get a chance to indulge himself with Rhedyn just as he had the horses.
During the trip from Geirrid, Elidyr had taken out the Overmantle a couple times and examined it, and the truth was, he was less than encouraged by its current state. Sinnoch had managed to gather all the main components of the device, and he’d had the foresight to bring along a set of Elidyr’s tools from his workshop at the lodge. But despite all his months assisting in the construction of the Overmantle, Sinnoch was no artificer, and he’d only brought the most basic of tools with him. In order to effect the kind of repairs the Overmantle required, Elidyr was going to have to redesign certain aspects of the Overmantle. And that would take time. At least most of the psi-crystals were intact and charged. They were highly expensive and difficult to come by, and without them, he’d have little chance of repairing the device. As it was, the task would take all his skill and knowledge to complete.
Too bad he couldn’t reshape metal and crystal the same way he could rework flesh. Repairing the Overmantle would be a simple matter then. Ah well. Things would be different in the world to come. Once chaos ruled the land, anything would be possible. The landscape would change at the merest thought, and every desire would become an instant reality. But until that glorious day, he’d just have to work with what he had.
Glorious? Are you mad?
Strange. The thought wasn’t his, and yet the voice was clear.
Chaos isn’t freedom. It’s slavery. The daelkyr use their abilities to enforce their whims upon others by reshaping reality as they wish it to be. People have a divine right to self-determination-a right the daelkyr would deny them. That’s the glorious future you’re trying to create, Elidyr. A future where the daelkyr rule and reality is nothing more than their toy.
Elidyr frowned. He wasn’t certain where this voice was coming from-it didn’t belong to any of his symbionts-but it was familiar. As familiar as the sound of his own voice, in fact.
When reality responds to everyone’s desires, then everyone shall be truly free, he thought back at the voice. That is the great gift the daelkyr offer. Now be silent and let me think!
Elidyr waited for the voice to say more, but it didn’t, and he smiled in satisfaction. He returned his attention to the remains of the Overmantle and mulled over various redesigns in his mind.
Rhedyn, however, didn’t stay silent for long.
“They’ll be coming for us, you know. Vaddon and the rest of the Outguard. Lirra too. Whether separately or together, they won’t stop until they’ve found us. Lirra especially will never give up.”
“You almost sound as if you fear her,” Sinnoch taunted.
“I respect her,” Rhedyn said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “There’s a difference. She’s a dangerous opponent in her own right, but now that she has a symbiont and has experienced the power of the Overmantle, she’s even more dangerous. It’s a shame she wouldn’t join us.”
“Perhaps she will in the end,” Elidyr said. “And if not, she will be one more casualty on the way toward creating a perfect world.”
Sinnoch grinned with his mouthful of needle-teeth. “One among many.”
Rhedyn scowled at the dolgaunt. “We need to be prepared in case they find us before the Overmantle is fixed. Together, the three of us are powerful, but I don’t know if we can stop the entire Outguard. Especially if Lirra has rejoined them, which I think likely. Vaddon is a highly experienced commander who could’ve easily become a warlord if he had any patience for political intrigue. He’s already added a pair of warforged to the Outguard’s ranks, probably thanks to my uncle. He’ll also recruit new members of the Outguard from the garrison at Geirrid to replace those who were killed. He might even convince Rol Amark to allow him to use the entire garrison. We could be facing a force of close to a hundred men and women. As I said, I fear the three of us will not be enough to stop them.”
“Assuming they reach us,” Sinnoch said. “This cave system is well hidden, and even if Vaddon and Lirra find it, locating us within its labyrinthine tunnels would be another matter entirely.” The dolgaunt paused then, head tilted to one side as if he was listening to something Elidyr and Rhedyn couldn’t hear. “But even so, your points are well taken, Rhedyn.” He turned to the warrior and grinned. “So it’s a good thing that I don’t live alone here, isn’t it?”
Elidyr felt the vibrations through the stone floor before he heard the rhythmic stomping of feet coming from somewhere deep within the cave system. He had no idea precisely how large the force was that approached, but he felt certain it was large enough to do the job. And whatever Sinnoch’s friends were, Elidyr knew he could use his flesh-molding abilities to remake them however he saw fit. Now that he thought about it, why should he have them wait until Lirra and the others arrived? It would be so much more hospitable to send Sinnoch’s friends out to greet them.
He refocused his attention on the Overmantle, and as the first of the dolgrim entered the cave, the artificer reached out and began reconnecting the broken pieces of the device.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A day and a half after leaving Geirrid, the Outguard entered the Nightwood. It was early morning, but the cloud cover was thick that day, and the forest interior was shrouded in gloom. The Nightwood lived up to its name, Lirra thought, for it always seemed to be dark within its confines. This wasn’t her first time here. She’d led hunting parties into the forests in search of symbionts on numerous occasions. In fact, the tentacle whip had been captured here during one such hunt.
Welcome home, she thought to the symbiont. In reply, it gave her forearm a painful squeeze, as if to say, Shut up. She could sense the tentacle whip’s foul mood. It hadn’t seen any action since the battle against Elidyr’s white-eyes a couple days ago, and she’d felt its frustration building ever since. The symbiont wanted to lash out, to strike at an opponent, to plunge its barb into soft flesh and fill it with poison. It wanted to wrap its coils around a tender neck and slowly squeeze. Tighter … tighter …