When one of the black firedrakes announced Ivar Devorast, he stopped.
“Everyone out,” Pristoleph said as Devorast was shown into the room.
Devorast glanced sideways at the crystal balls but didn’t stop until he reached one of the chairs that faced the ransar’s desk.
“Everyone, Ransar?” Wenefir asked, eyeing Devorast with a dangerous scowl.
Pristoleph clapped the priest on the shoulder and said, “I will be quite all right, my old friend. Please.”
Wenefir made a point of bowing low before he followed the others out of the room.
“Sit,” Pristoleph said to Devorast when they were finally alone.
“You’re busy,” Devorast said, but Pristoleph could tell the man had no intention of volunteering to leave.
He motioned to the chair and they both sat. Pristoleph let out a long sigh.
“I’m relieved to see you, Ivar,” Pristoleph said. “May I call you Ivar?”
Devorast answered with a gesture that was half nod and half shrug. Pristoleph instantly decided to learn how to do that.
“The Thayan didn’t deliver everything on the list,” Devorast said.
Pristoleph sighed again and said, “I’m not surprised.” “He wasn’t paid?”
“Oh, he was paid,” said Pristoleph. “He just doesn’t like you.”
Devorast scowled. “What could that matter?”
“To me?” Pristoleph replied. “Nothing at all, but the Thayan is a bit… odd. He has to like you, or at least he has to think you like him.”
“Then I will have to make do without the rest,” said Devorast.
“For the nonce, yes, I suppose, but don’t give up hope entirely. He may hate you, but he likesno, he lovesgold. I’ll make sure your needs are met, as we agreed.”
Devorast made to stand, but Pristoleph waved him down.
“Please,” said the ransar. “I have very few people to talk to. I think these stacks of parchment are driving me mad. Phyrea seems to hear voices I can’t while mine goes entirely unnoticed. Wenefir has this god of his now, though he still plays the faithful lieutenant. The rest of them I hardly knowuseful sycophants, I suppose, but nothing more. I’m starved for someone to talk to.”
“As the ransar,” Devorast said with the hint of a smile, “couldn’t you just order someone to talk to you?”
“When I said they were useful sycophants, I meant that they are no more to me than tools. It would be like you having a conversation with one of your shovels.”
“My shovel serves me, at least.”
“And these men serve me,” said the ransar. “The city-state is hale and hearty and safe. We have no enemies. The streets are reasonably peaceful.”
“Does that mean you have succeeded?” Devorast asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Pristoleph replied. “All that could turn on a silver piece. When you wield power over other men, you’re never successful, because you’re never finished.”
“I’ve been getting through to you after all,” Devorast said, and the two men shared a rare and precious laugh.
34
17 Tarsakh, the Year of Rogue Dragons (1373 DR) The Thayan Enclave, Innarlith
"It was Halina,” Marek said, his head heavy on his neck, his shoulders drooping. “It was my own niece, after all.”
“I’ll melt her flesh off her bones,” Insithryllax said in a voice even deeper, even more potent than normal. “I’ll dissolve her. I’ll liquefy her.”
They walked side by side in the courtyard of the evergrowing cluster of buildings, and Marek stopped short. Insithryllax continued another few steps then whirled on the Red Wizard. The dragon wore his human guise, but when he turned, Marek was startled by his eyes, which had gone entirely black. The dragon’s forehead furrowed and his jaw tightened into a trembling grimace.
Marek smiled, but at the same time had to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.
“Is there something else amiss, my friend?” the wizard asked. “You seem”
Insithryllax turned away, and Marek wincedpeople didn’t turn their backs on him often, and the Red Wizard didn’t like it.
“How can you stand it?” the dragon grumbled.
“Insithryllax, what’s come over you?”
The dark-skinned man flexed his hands and his fingers stretched into horrible, elongated talons.
“Insithryllax,” Marek said, stepping closer behind him with some reluctance. “Remember yourself, my friend.”
The disguised dragon’s right hand shrank to its human form, but his left remained spindly and capped with razor-edged claws. A sound came from him that was something between human speech and the thunderous roar of a great wyrm.
A young wizard stepped out from one of the doors that opened onto the courtyard. She had been in Innarlith less than a month, having come from Thay to learn alchemy and make minor potions and ointments for the Third Quarter tradesmen. Marek didn’t remember her name. When she saw Insithryllax, she stopped, her eyes wide. She could see something Marek couldn’t Insithryllax’s faceand her reaction froze the blood in Marek’s veins.
“This isn’t like you,” Marek said. “Calm yourself. Now.”
Insithryllax turned his head and glanced back over his shoulder. Marek gasped at the sight of his twisted features. The transformation was blurring him, combining the human with the draconic to create a hellish mask of black menace.
“How can you stand it?” the wyrm said. “Your own flesh, a girl you took into your home, who had nowhere else to go and burdened you with her foolishness… and now she destroys something you worked to create? How can you not roar your rage to the skies? How can you not take wing, to drive her down before you and reduce her to paste?”
“Well,” Marek offered, “what’s a few zombies between an uncle and his favorite niece?”
“You toy with me,” the dragon growled, and the fingers of his right hand snapped out like whips, transforming instantly into talons to match his left. “Don’t toy with me. Tell me to kill her. Tell me to kill them all.”
Marek spoke an incantation and gathered a feeling of calm. He took a deep breath, held it for a few heartbeats while Insithryllax continued to slowly transform, bit by bit, in front of him. When the Red Wizard exhaled he sent a wave of calm washing over the dragon. It was a simple spell, but one Marek was^onfident would at least slow the black dragon’s mounting rage.
“Save your breath,” the dragon said. “You know you want her dead. She’ll start on the dock workers next. She’ll destroy everything you’ve built.”
“Not just her, though,” Marek said. The dragon turned away, wings beginning to sprout from his slowly-widening back. “That’s the thing, my friend. Kill her, attack her at the temple, and we make an enemy of her whole faith. They are hardly to be concerned with one at a time, but should their goddess take notice of”
“Goddess?” the dragon shot back, his voice so loud and so low-pitched it set Marek’s ears ringing.
The girl who’d been watching them from the door slapped her hands to her ears.
“Leave us…” Marek called to her, but he couldn’t remember her name,”… you. Leave us!”
The girl had her hands over her ears and couldn’t hear.
“Girl!” Marek screamed.
Insithryllax turned in her direction and she screamed, her hands still over her ears. Marek shouted for her to run, but she couldn’t hear him. A cloud of black mist washed over her, expelled from Insithryllax’s head, which had fully transformed into the head of a dragon. When the mist hit her, her skin blistered. She opened her mouth to scream again and inhaled a deep breath of acid. Instead of another scream, what came out was a white and pink froth. Her eyes melted into her skull and were gone entirely in less than a single heartbeat. The girl lived too long, dissolving away while trying to breathe and scream, but succeeding only in sizzling.