“Yes,” answered Shal excitedly. “As we left, the afternoon sun was shining gloriously on the cliffs. The whole bay looks different—”
“You needn’t babble on,” Cadorna said sternly. “I’m satisfied that you’ve fulfilled the goals of this mission. In fact, you all deserve further reward, but I will not know the verdict of the full council with regard to such rewards as you may have coming for at least another day. In the meantime, I’d like you to think about the possibility of completing a small task for me one day soon. I happen to believe you are the perfect party for the assignment.”
Ren bristled a little at what he read as a couched threat. The way Cadorna leaned over the dais, clasping and unclasping his hands and making fleeting eye contact with each of them, left Ren with no doubt that Cadorna could and would make life very difficult for the trio if they did not at least attempt to complete Cadorna’s “small task.”
“We’ll be in town,” said Ren matter-of-factly. “You can leave a message for us at the Laughing Goblin Inn.”
“Count on it,” Cadorna said crisply, sensing Ren’s resistance. “You are free to go now—with the understanding that you are on call to me and this council until further notice.”
On the side of the city opposite Civilized Phlan, the farthest corner of the uncivilized part, a great dragon was listening to the whimpering excuses of a liver-bellied kobold, two gutless orcs, and a recreant hobgoblin. The beast met their vacant, yellow-eyed stares with its gleaming eyes, and they saw their master, the Lord of the Ruins, for the first time.
“A party of three defeated an army of fifty?” The dragon clawed the ground and spewed a jet of flame from its nostrils. “You let them tame Sokol Keep? Idiots! Clods! Humans will flood into Phlan by the shipload and gain new footholds in my portion of the city! Incompetent slugs! Die as your companions did!” The dragon exhaled, and lightning flashed and crackled about them. Before they could finish their screams, the four were encompassed in flames. In moments, their bodies had melted and drained into the golden, crescent-shaped pool nearby.
Where the incinerated remains of the humanoids met the bright water of the pool, it bubbled and boiled, blazing with the intensity of polished gold in direct sunlight. The dragon turned and lumbered slowly into the pool. In the physical portion of its brain, which reflected raw instinct and reaction, the only part still controlled by the original persona of the dragon, the water registered as hot … very hot. The dragon flinched and tried to back out of the pool. It took the power of a trenchant will to force the physical body to scald itself in exchange for the pulsing energy the water would bestow. The will was that of Tyranthraxus, the Great Possessor.
It was the will of Tyranthraxus that commanded the dragon to submerge its entire body in the pool. When it did, power—undiluted power—flowed from the pool to the dragon, and the creature commanded a hundred more humanoid slaves into it presence.
Kobolds, orcs, gnolls, and other strange creatures of the ruins flocked to the heart of Valjevo Castle, the lair of the Lord of the Ruins. Their eyes glazed over with yellow, they never saw the creature that controlled them.
“Hear me, slaves! You will spread the word that there is a price on the heads of those three, more treasure than any of you can imagine … You will also procure for me two more ioun stones. When you do, I will complete the circle of power, and I will rule all of Phlan … and much more.”
“I didn’t realize you were still hurting so from that blow to your stomach,” Shal said, touching Ren gently on the arm as they left the council room. “Here …” She took his arm and pulled it up over her shoulder, then slipped her own arm around his waist. “Let me help you.”
Ren glanced over his shoulder at Tarl and grinned in delight. “Thanks. That’s better. I’m sure by the time you walk me all the way to my room, I’ll be feeling much better.” He pulled Shal a little closer and spread his hand on her firm waist.
“As Tyr is my witness, don’t you think you’re a little big to be leaning on the lady for support?” asked Tarl.
“I’ll be fine,” said Shal, not waiting for Ren to answer. “All this size and strength has to be good for something besides climbing ropes and looking homely. I mean, you guys wouldn’t even let me row the boat.”
Ren glanced over his shoulder at Tarl and winked again. “She’ll be fine. I won’t lean too hard.”
Tarl glowered and bared his teeth in a half-mocking, half-serious warning. When they reached the inn, Sot treated them to a huge feast. Later, Tarl made a point of accompanying Ren and Shal to Ren’s room in the loft.
Ren moved swiftly from the door to the window, checking both, as was his habit, to see that they weren’t followed and then securing them to make sure no one could enter. He unbuckled the fastenings on his leather breastplate and then tugged gingerly to remove the armor. Shal was about to reach over and help, but Tarl stepped between them and carefully removed the breastplate. “I can make a poultice for you. You won’t be smelling too good while you wear it, but I think you’ll find it soothing.”
“And if I know you,” said Ren, “it’ll be about as pleasant-smelling as those orcs at Sokol Keep.”
Shal was reminded of a question she’d been meaning to ask. “Do you two know what stones those creatures kept talking about?”
“Ioun stones,” Tarl filled in the name.
“They’re incredibly valuable, but I don’t think most people understand why,” Ren said as he sat on the mattress in the center of the room. “Tempest was killed over two ioun stones.”
Shal sat down on the floor, and Tarl sat beside her.
Ren removed Right and Left from his boots. “These are ioun stones,” he said, flipping the hilts open so they could plainly see the blue-black stone inside each handle. “If you hadn’t started blasting everything in sight with your staff, Shal, I was going to pull one of these out and offer it to those goons. They probably would’ve killed us anyhow, but I might have been able to distract them long enough so you could get away.”
“What’s so special about—” Shal dropped her question and gazed in wonderment as the two dark stones floated from the hilts of the daggers and began to circle Ren’s head, glowing a deep, iridescent midnight blue.
“Wow!” Shal and Tarl breathed in unison.
“What—what else can they do?” asked Shal.
“I don’t know very much, really. I think it takes strong magic to take full advantage of their powers. For me, the ioun stones make the blades return at my command, and I never miss my mark. I guess they must add a measure of talent or strength to whoever’s in control of them.” Ren held the knives up by the blades and said “Return.” The two stones immediately dropped into the open handles, and Ren flipped the hilts shut. “Tempest died over those two little rocks, and today the three of us almost died for them. I don’t know what the head of the Assassins’ Guild wanted them for, or what the Lord of the Ruins wants them for, but I think we’ll all be better off if they don’t get them.”
“You were right to not give them up without a fight,” Tarl said. “Who can say what evil forces would do with such stones? I vow, as Tyr is my witness, to aid you to the best of my abilities should you be threatened again.”
“And I, too,” said Shal. “as Selune is my witness. But I have a mission of my own, and I’m anxious to get on with it.”
“To avenge the death of your teacher?” Tarl asked.
Shal nodded. “And after a good night’s rest, that is precisely what I plan to do.”