The crowd parted, but only enough to let the king pass. The dwarves reached to meet the hands Mith Barak stretched out to them. In a minute, the army had enveloped him, and the only way to follow his progress across the plaza was by the joy that broke over the faces in the crowd.
The master armswoman followed the king. Icelin smiled as Joya and the rest of her family emerged from the crowd. Ingara and Arngam followed close behind.
“We should get ready,” Ingara said. She turned to Icelin and Ruen. “Our family is overseeing the defense of the city near the main gate. We’d be honored if you joined us there.”
“The honor is ours,” Ruen said. “Lead the way.”
Icelin hesitated. She glanced back at the great hall. “I need to do something first.”
“You’re not thinkin’ of goin’ back in there to see the drow?” Sull asked. “He’s … she’s out of her head, lass.”
“Then it won’t matter one way or another,” Icelin said. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll come with you,” Joya said. “She might benefit from healing.”
“Don’t be long,” Garn said. “The king walks among his people for a purpose. He’ll be getting the army into position, and we don’t know yet if this ‘parlay’ is going to happen.” His tone left little doubt what he thought of negotiating with the drow.
Icelin followed Joya back through the hall to the library door. Joya drew her axe. “Just in case,” she said in answer to Icelin’s questioning glance.
When they entered, Zollgarza was sitting up by the fire. Icelin blinked in surprise when she recognized the seneschal standing over her.
“Any change?” Joya asked, tension stiffening her posture.
The seneschal looked up at them and smiled faintly. “I knew you would come back one last time,” she said, addressing Icelin. “I am pleased you found what you sought.”
“Thank you,” Icelin said, “for everything.” She glanced at Zollgarza and was surprised again when the drow met her gaze. A bright, feverish light danced in her eyes. Icelin didn’t know if that was a sign that she was coming out of her madness or descending further into it.
“You,” Zollgarza said. She had a beautiful voice, soft and husky. “You’re the one I need.” She spoke with an effort. “I can’t … kill you.”
“Better you don’t try, either,” Joya remarked, though she made no move to brandish her axe.
Zollgarza didn’t seem to hear her. She reached out a hand to Icelin, who tensed but let the drow clasp her wrist. “Take me to him,” she said hoarsely. “To Mith Barak. I have what he needs.”
“The king?” Icelin said. Understanding dawned on her. “If you’re a drow priestess, you have information about the attacking force, don’t you?”
“Part of me does,” Zollgarza said. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead. “It’s not strong yet, dominant. It fights with him, with the unclean parts of me. But it won’t win,” she said, gritting her teeth as if fighting off physical pain. “We have to hurry.”
“What’s your price?” Joya asked, suspicious. “And how are you just remembering this information now? The king already rooted through your mind and found nothing.”
An ugly smile flitted across Zollgarza’s face. “He was looking in the wrong mind,” she said. “I have lain in dark rooms and whispered plans with the mistress mother of the snake-headed scourge. I know why Fizzri-no, why Lolth-wants the Arcane Script Sphere.” Her hand tightened around Icelin’s wrist. “My price is my freedom-safe passage out of the city.”
“The king will never release you,” Joya said. “You know too much.”
“If I win my battle against what’s inside me, if female dominates male, all that knowledge will be gone,” Zollgarza said. “I will purge it with the rest of this disease. It’s a sacrifice I gladly make.”
“Why are you doing this,” Icelin asked, “betraying your people, your goddess?”
The light in Zollgarza’s eyes dimmed, and a shudder wracked her body. “I have no goddess-not while I am … this.” She held her hands up in front of her face, as if she didn’t recognize what she was looking at. “Half of one being, half of another. She did this to me, made me into an abomination, a sacrifice.” She looked up at Icelin with pleading eyes. “I will not let it happen.”
Icelin nodded. “We’ll take you to the king,” she said. “I just hope we can get to him in time.”
Ruen tensed when Icelin and Joya came out of the hall with the drow in tow. Garn and Obrin cursed and gripped their weapons. Ingara turned away in disgust.
“I can’t wait to hear this,” Ruen said, raising an eyebrow and looking pointedly at Icelin.
“Why do you always blame me?” Icelin said, putting a hand on her hip. “I never ask for the sort of trouble that follows me around like a plague, do I?” She related Zollgarza’s request quickly. “The king can decide what’s best to do,” she added. “We need to get to him, quickly.”
“You can use the stone flyers,” Garn said. “This way.”
He led them over the bridge to a set of caves in the back of the cavern wall. Iron bars set across the entrances kept in two massive creatures with skin made of stone. To Icelin, they vaguely resembled wolves with wings folded alongside their flanks. Garn spoke to the stable master and got the keys to one of the pens.
“The rest of them are already being used by the army. These are older, but the stable man says they’ll fly true. The king’ll be at the front of the army near the main gate,” he told them as he swung open the door to the pen. He raised a hand and spoke soothingly to the stone creatures, who watched the group warily. Stroking the necks of two of the beasts, he led them out of the pen. “Obrin,” he said to his son, “you carry the drow.”
“I want to go too,” Icelin said. “Will they carry Ruen and I?”
“Can you ride a horse well?” Ingara asked, looking concerned.
“Yes,” Icelin said.
“That’ll help,” Garn said. “We’ve trained them as aerial cavalry. They’ll follow a leader, and Obrin’s riding one of the ones we’ve trained to lead. Guide them only when you have to. They know what they’re about.”
“Just be careful,” Sull said, wringing his big hands.
“I will,” Icelin promised.
Obrin mounted the lead flyer, and Zollgarza crawled up behind him, being careful not to touch the dwarf but instead holding on to the raised stone ridges along the beast’s flank. Icelin and Ruen mounted the second flyer. The roughness of the flyer’s stone skin scratched and caught at her breeches. Could statues fly?
She wrapped her arms around Ruen’s waist for balance and held the Arcane Script Sphere tightly in the other. The lupine creature rocked back and spread its wings. A weight pressed down on Icelin as the creature’s wings came down, lifting them off the ground. Beating its wings furiously, the flyer took off, gaining momentum as the cavern floor disappeared beneath them. In a breath, the weight lifted, and a light, giddy sensation clawed at Icelin’s stomach. She tightened her grip on Ruen’s waist. It was then she noticed how rigid he sat on the flyer’s back, as if he, too, were made of stone. They were very high up in the air.
“Sorry,” Icelin said, wincing as she looked down at the stone buildings passing beneath them. “I never expected we’d be doing this.”
A gust of wind hit her, and the flyer changed direction slightly. Ruen put up a hand to hold his hat in place. “Which part?” he said dryly. “This whole adventure is starting to look a little bit mad from where I’m sitting.”
Below them, the army assembled before the main gate. Other flyers hovered in the air in formations of ten and twenty beasts, flying their own banners and following a single lead. Ballistae arranged in a semicircle near the main gate stood poised to fire. The king stood near one of the machines, surrounded by a group of scouts.
Soldiers looked up and saw the flyers descending. They hurried to clear a path, but several pointed at the drow and murmured in alarm. Icelin wondered briefly if they’d made a miscalculation, bringing Zollgarza into the middle of the army. There was a chance the dwarves would slay the drow on sight. Then they landed, and Icelin had no more time for doubts.