Ksana must have realized much the same thing, for the cleric’s gaze was sorrowful as she stretched out her hand and gently touched Lirra on the forehead. “May the blessings of Dol Arrah be upon you, my child.”
Lirra felt a wave of warmth pass through her body, and when it was done, her anger was gone. She nodded her gratitude to the cleric, and then, without looking at her father, she turned to go.
“Hold up, Lirra,” Ranja said. “You’re not leaving without me!”
Lirra turned to the shifter. “I appreciate everything you did to help us, but the path I’ve chosen is one I must walk alone.”
“Spare me the dramatics. You choose your path, I choose mine. It just so happens that they’re the same.” She grinned. “For the time being, at least.”
Lirra was going to argue with the shifter, but then she decided not to bother. If the woman wanted to follow her, she would find a way to do so. It was simpler to let her come along openly if she wished. Besides, given the way Lirra felt right then, she figured she could use the company.
“Very well,” Lirra said.
“I’m coming too,” Osten said.
Lirra turned to him, surprised, but before she could say anything, Vaddon spoke.
“You are a Karrnathi soldier, boy! What you’re talking about amounts to desertion!”
Osten glared at Vaddon defiantly. “I can’t desert if I’m no longer a soldier. I resign my commission, General.”
“Osten, please, think this through!” Lirra said. “I can’t let you do this!”
“You’re going to need allies to deal with Elidyr,” the young warrior said. “You’re also going to need someone who understands what it’s like to carry a symbiont. Someone who can rein you in when it becomes necessary. Someone to be-”
“My conscience,” Lirra said with a smile. “All right.” She turned to the warforged and smiled. “Well, what about you two?”
The constructs’ hands were still dirty from grave digging, and Longstrider rubbed his together, almost self-consciously. “Shatterfist and I admire you greatly,” he said, “but we are loyal to Lord Bergerron, and as he assigned us to your father’s command, that is where we shall remain until ordered otherwise.”
“Too bad,” Shatterfist said, giving the impression that he sighed without actually doing so. “I have so many more jokes that you haven’t heard yet.”
“Maybe Dol Arrah is looking out for me,” Lirra murmured. She turned to Ranja and Osten. “All right then. Let’s get going.”
“Where are we headed?” Ranja asked.
Lirra felt an urge to glance back at her father one last time, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so.
“Away from here,” Lirra said. Then she turned forward and started walking, Osten and Ranja at her side.
Many miles away, Veit Bergerron sat secure and comfortable in his study. The warlord wore a helmet that covered his entire head-a helmet that resembled the head of a warforged. And not just any warforged-Longstrider. The helmet’s eyes glowed with mystical power, a sign of their link to Longstrider. Anything the construct saw, Bergerron saw. And the warlord had seen plenty over the course of the last couple days. Now he watched as Lirra and her two companions walked out of the clearing and into the woods.
Lirra Brochann was an intriguing woman. She had her father’s spirit, but she was less rigid and more adaptable to changing circumstances than Vaddon. Plus, she’d shown herself adept at handling the symbiont she’d become bonded to. Bergerron could make use of someone with her special capabilities. In fact, he could think of several ongoing projects that she’d be perfect for … projects that required a specific combination of finesse, discretion, and brutality.
A shame about Rhedyn turning traitor though. Bergerron would’ve thought a member of his bloodline would’ve been stronger than that, but then again, Rhedyn was his youngest sister’s child, and she’d always been the weakest of his siblings. It was like they said, the apple never falls far from the tree. Ah well, he decided. Nothing to be done about it.
All things considered, it looked like the symbiont project had turned out to be a success in the end. He smiled. For him, at least.
Bergerron removed the helmet and placed it on the small table beside his chair. Then he sat back, interlocked his hands over his stomach, and began making plans.
“Aren’t you the least bit upset that the Overmantle was destroyed?”
Elidyr gave Rhedyn a sideways glance. “There’s no point in dwelling on the past. What’s done is done.”
The two men had been walking through the Nightwood ever since leaving the caves. After escaping his coppery prison-a simple matter, really, given the number of magic devices he carried on his person-and slipping away while everyone’s eyes had been on Lirra and Ysgithyrwyn, Elidyr had led Rhedyn down a hidden passage that Sinnoch had showed him when the artificer had first visited the dolgaunt decades ago. The passage had led to a long winding tunnel that eventually let them out in a different section of the forest from the main cave entrance, far enough away that Elidyr was confident Vaddon and the others wouldn’t be able to find them-especially since Elidyr was using a concealer, one of his most useful artificer’s toys, to mask both his presence and Rhedyn’s. Too bad about Sinnoch though. The dolgaunt had been a good assistant, and Elidyr could truthfully say he wouldn’t be the man he was now if not for Sinnoch’s help.
Rhedyn went on. “But we failed! Ysgithyrwyn remains in Xoriat, and …” The warrior trailed off and directed his gaze to the ground. His shadowy aspect was drawn around him like a dark cloak, as if to mirror his mood.
“Go ahead and say it,” Elidyr prompted.
Rhedyn looked up. “And Lirra didn’t join us.”
“Perhaps not this time. But you know as well as I that she can only hold out so long against the corrupting influence of her symbiont. Eventually she will come to see things our way. It’s inevitable.”
“So you say. But Lirra isn’t just anyone. She’s stronger than I am.” He paused. “Stronger than you, in many ways.”
Elidyr bristled at the warrior’s words, but he chose not to remark upon them.
“Do you know what your trouble is, my boy? You’re still in love with my niece. Love is an emotion for lesser minds. It’s childish and limited, and it impedes clear thinking. In time your symbiont would’ve helped you realize this. But as your emotional state is obviously causing you a certain amount of discomfort, I’ll be happy to speed up the process for you.”
Before Rhedyn could react, Elidyr spun around and jammed his fingers into the warrior’s forehead, sinking through flesh and bone to penetrate the brain matter beneath. Grinning, Elidyr went to work on tidying up Rhedyn’s messy mind, and the warrior’s screams filled the Nightwood.