Away from the Chosen of Asmodeus.
Farideh turned to the shadar-kai, and she felt her fury, her certainty that she would not let them take another soul, burst out of her like a wave. The flames burned hotter still. She would do anything, in that moment, to keep them from torturing the boy.
“Leave them to me,” Farideh said to the others. She drew the rod from her sleeve and held it out in front of her, parallel to the ground. “Chaanaris.”
Chapter Twenty-two
26 Ches, the Year of the Nether Mountain Scrolls (1486 DR) The Lost Peaks
Lord of Knowledge, Binder of what is Known, Dahl chanted to himself, Make my eye clear, my mind open, my heart true. Give me the wisdom to separate the lie from the truth. .
Dahl had not been a paladin for ten years now, but still he remembered the feeling of the god of knowledge’s presence-the sure, tranquil truth of Oghma that lit his mind afire. It bore little resemblance to the oddly strangled calm that seemed to surround and hold tight to his nerves, foreign as some Chosen’s power on his thoughts.
You can do this, he reminded himself. You have done it plenty of times before. He turned his sword in his hand, adjusting the grip. And if you can’t, he added, then all these people are going to die for your stupid plan, and Vescaras will be there to see you-
He nodded to Sheera, before he lost the calm.
The Harper raised her crossbow and stepped quickly to the portcullis, firing off a bolt before the guards turned at the sound, before the orb in the center of the room could ensnare her. True to her promise, the bolt flew across the room and struck the sphere on the pillar, knocking it to the ground.
The glass shattered.
And the Chosen woke.
The sudden cacophony of powers vying for his attention made Dahl’s stomach plunge and his heart race. The man in the cage beside the wizards opened his eyes and started to scream.
Lord of Knowledge, he chanted to himself, Binder of What Is Known. .
As soon as the bolt flew, Sheera threw herself flat against the wall as Phalar summoned the globe of darkness around himself once more and let the blessings of his god wash over them all. Dahl gripped his sword more tightly as the urge to reach through the grate and cut the guards’ throats raced through him. Phalar chuckled softly within his bubble of night, and then ran at the portcullis.
The iron grating sizzled as Phalar’s magic let him phase through it. The guards startled, reaching for their weapons. Dahl hit the grate and saw their dark eyes deepen as Phalar’s god stripped off any caution they had left.
“Hey!” Dahl shouted. “Hey! Shadow-kisser!” He banged his sword against the grating, drawing the door guards’ attention, as Phalar streaked across the room. The globe passed over the surprised wizards, swallowing them both for a moment. The darkness vanished-but Phalar was already past, running for the far door and dropping the crossbar before turning to defend against the near guard who’d shaken off her shock and realized the drow racing through the room didn’t belong.
The clanking of the portcullis seized Dahl’s attention, as a shadar-kai ducked under the rising gate in front of him. Idiot, he thought, and he brought the pommel of his sword down hard on the exposed back of the man’s head. Still, it took all his effort not to duck under the portcullis himself to get to the second guard faster.
Make my eye clear, my mind open, my heart true, he chanted, a hymn to hold onto his real self.
The shadar-kai finished hauling the gate open, his eyes dancing as if he were relishing the idea of running Dahl through, as his fellows closed on the entrance. But he wasn’t expecting Oota to come screaming out of the tunnel, sword first. She forced him back, slashing wildly. Dahl followed, trailed by Vescaras, Armas, and Hamdir.
“Hrast,” Armas cursed, searching the cages that lined the shadowy edges of the room. “She pulled a lot of people.”
“We need a key,” Dahl said. He glanced back at Brin and Sheera. “You, keep shooting. You, keep the guards off her. Hamdir-”
Oota’s bellow filled the room, drowning out the building shouts of the prisoners. Dahl saw her shove the dead door guard off her blade.
“Which of you is next?” she roared. “Which of you thought you could capture my people and survive my wrath? Which of you cowards thinks you can best the Chosen of Obould?”
Two streaks of burning air whizzed past Dahl. Behind him, the air went out of Armas in an ugly gasp. Something else set the air behind him humming. Dahl didn’t dare turn-his sword caught the blade of a rangy shadar-kai man with his pale hair in tight braids. Slight as he seemed, the man forced Dahl back and off-balance. Something behind Dahl rumbled as the man pulled his blade up to cut Dahl down-
And stiffened as a blast of greenish light slammed into him. A deranged grin spread across the shadar-kai’s face as one dagger punched into his lung, then another. A second bolt of magic screamed past them.
Dahl looked up-it wasn’t Armas who stood there, but his likeness in dirt, looking impassively down at Dahl. Beyond, Armas clutched one hand to his burned and bleeding chest, staring shocked at the quartet of protectors who’d risen up out of the ground around him. The faintest halo of silver seemed to shimmer over the half-elf.
“So she was right,” he said numbly.
Bad wound, Dahl thought. He needed healing-but Brin was busy, fending off another guard. The four defenders arranged themselves silently around Armas. The new-made Chosen straightened, still bleeding, still wounded, and raised a hand. A burst of light streaked from his palm, and with the guardians around him, he forged a path toward the cages on the right end of the room, where Phalar still battled the guards. Dahl saw the drow duck into an open cell and slam the door behind him.
The wizards were still on their feet, sending burst after burst of magic streaking out into the fight. Too many overshot the attackers and burst against the cages-or maybe they aimed their strikes there. .
Give me the wisdom to separate the lie from the truth, Dahl chanted as he and Armas forced their way past a guard harried by Vescaras’s swift rapier, past Hamdir struggling to hold back another two, toward the two wizards and the man in the cage. The young man’s frantic screams and the Chosen’s blending powers threatened to make Dahl break. Give me the strength to accept what is so. .
Armas’s defenders reached the wizard by the cage. Eyes on Oota and Vescaras, attention on the spell he was casting, the wizard didn’t notice the golem until it slammed a solid fist into the side of his head.
“You idiot!” the other cried as his spell shot off to envelop Phalar in a fog of poisonous-looking gas. “Pay attention.” He cast another spell and vanished, reappearing nearer to Phalar. Sheera’s arrows chased him. Armas reached up and shook the cage with the panicking young man in it.
“Mreldor!” Armas yelled, as the wizard reeled. “Stop screaming!”
My word is my steel, my reason my shield, Dahl chanted as he searched the walls. And I shall fear no deception, for the truth remains-
A crackling orb of energy burst into being between the Armas, Dahl, and the wizard. Dahl’s muscles all went stiff, and for a moment there was only the searing pain that drove all else-even the powers of the gods-from his thoughts. The energy dissipated, but Dahl’s mind still reeled and-
“Dahl!” Armas shouted, and suddenly two of the golems stood between him and the wizard he’d struck. There was a sizzle, a spatter, like fat in a fire. And the golems collapsed into piles of dirt and acid. Armas stood panting over them.