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At last, Vambran arrived at the dais. Clinging to the surface near it, he began to circle around the altar, wondering if it might not be protected by some mechanical or arcane traps. He wondered how he was going to open it. The etchings on the box were a mixture of runes and images. The pictures he recognized easily enough-stylized faces, creatures, and landscapes-but he had no idea what the runes said. He did not even recognize most of the symbols, though some of them were distantly similar to modern ones.

Vambran was just about to crawl onto the altar to make a closer examination of it when he felt a faint vibration in the stone beneath his hands and feet. A momentary surge of panic struck him, and he wondered if he were feeling some sort of earthquake. The vibration grew stronger and the lieutenant feared that chunks of the chamber would begin to loosen and fall, possibly right on top of him. As if to prove him a prophet, a column cracked and tumbled down, missing the altar by perhaps a sword length. It hit the lowest end of the room with a thundering concussion, jarring everything in the chamber, including the mercenary.

I don't want to be in here, Vambran decided, turning to scramble out of the chamber. I'll come back after the earth has finished growling.

He was perhaps halfway across the floor when the lowest surface of the chamber erupted in a spray of stone. The force of the burst nearly shook Vambran free of his perch and sprayed him with shards of rock, even at his considerable distance. As the dust billowed up, Vambran looked down.

A gargantuan worm-thing the color of amethysts reared up out of a newly formed hole, bobbing and swaying. Its mouth could easily swallow him whole and looked vaguely like an orchid, but four slimy tentacles snaking out of it and wriggling all about certainly dispelled any sense of beauty. The stench of it made the lieutenant gag.

The massive worm had no eyes as far as Vambran could see, but that didn't slow it down. With little hesitation, its tentacles writhing in a mad dance, the ponderous creature lurched forward, directly toward Vambran.

"You may begin," Grand Trabbar Perolin said, giving Pilos a warm smile. "Remember, we will know if you speak any falsehood," he warned.

Pilos nodded and began to tell the council his story. No fewer than three priests were arrayed about him, focused on the various spells that would aid them in determining if he was lying, exaggerating the slightest bit, or even conjecturing rather than providing facts. He left no part out, even admitting to sneaking through the hidden passages in the temple to spy on the meeting between the highest of the high priests. That brought about a few raised eyebrows.

"Are even our own private meetings not sacred?" Lavant blurted out, red-faced with anger.

"Be silent, Grand Syndar," Perolin warned. "You may sit on the high seat, but these proceedings will not be debased by your outbursts."

Lavant glowered but said nothing more.

Pilos told the high priests of his encounter with Mikolos, and the message the departed Grand Syndar had delivered to him. He expected Lavant to balk at the veracity of that as well, but when he looked over at the Grand Syndar, the pudgy man looked uncomfortable, perhaps even a bit pale.

Finally, the Abreeant confessed to infiltrating the Generon with Emriana, explaining how she had been captured in a magical mirror by Junce Roundface, an agent of Grozier Talricci's, and how Laithe the wizard had mentioned Lavant by name in a conversation with Junce. At that revelation, numerous gasps escaped from the high priests and Lavant began to fidget.

Pilos knew he might be punished in some way for revealing everything to the finest detail, but he believed that, in the end, it would help his cause to be thorough.

Once the young priest finished his part of the story, he was taken aside and flanked by temple guards. One by one, Horial, Adyan, Grolo, and even Edilus were brought before the council to tell their part of the tale. Each played his part well, explaining what had transpired, beginning with the voyage at sea and ending with their current situation, standing beside Pilos and under scrutiny. Their descriptions of the destruction of Lady's Favor, the subsequent flight through the Nunwood, and the capture of so many of their companions drew more than a few exclamations of surprise and dismay. Pilos then finished the testimony by explaining that Lobra Pharaboldi, who was currently in House Darowdryn custody, had already admitted to everything the men and dwarf had asserted. He offered the temple the opportunity to take her into its own custody to verify her involvement.

When Pilos finished, Grand Trabbar Perolin stood. "These are all very grave accusations," the high priest said, but he was looking at Lavant, not Pilos. During the entire proceeding, the three priests monitoring the truth of the testimony had given no signal that anything in the tales was amiss.

Lavant opened his mouth to retort, then must have thought better of it, for he snapped it shut again with a frown, his jowls bouncing.

After all of the confessions were finished, Pilos was granted his final statement. By temple law, he was allowed to present whatever speech he felt appropriate to sway the court's opinion.

He gave the speech of his life.

"Perhaps it is beyond my place as a mere Abreeant priest to question the activities of one so highly positioned as our Grand Syndar, but I could not in good conscience allow his actions to proceed unchecked. Because of my own lowly station, I knew I could not sway very many of you sitting on this council with my speculations alone. I did what I did, broke the laws that I broke, not out of disregard for the customs and respect of the temple and its clergy, but out of love for seeing it exalted. I could not bear to see one so bent on callous personal gain to remain in that position of power. So, whatever punishments are accorded me for violating temple law, I accept these as a necessary consequence to right many wrongs."

Pilos could see a number of high priests frowning, for his claim that the ends would justify the means did not sit well with them. He understood that even before he began, and he did not expect sympathy from them in that regard. Shrugging off their disapproval for the moment, he continued.

"This man, this leader among leaders," the Abreeant said, emphasizing his words with demonstrative pointing toward Lavant, "is guilty of the manipulation of many people, including the temple clergy itself. He has a powerful faction loyal to him, and I daresay he has the political clout to wriggle free of these charges, but I say he does not deserve his high seat!"

The chamber erupted in much shouting at those words, some supporting Pilos's assertions and others vehemently denouncing them. Lavant's face turned a bright hue of purple as he gave Pilos the most malevolent stare the young priest had ever seen from any man.

"Order! Order, I say!" Grand Trabbar Perolin shouted. The chamber grew quiet once more. "Please finish your remarks, Abreeant," he said, perhaps a bit sternly.

Pilos swallowed and nodded, wondering if he had pushed too far. For an Abreeant to call for abdication of the Grand Syndar…

It was too late for second thoughts, Pilos knew. "I conclude with this. The depth of this man's dishonesty seems to know no limits. I would not put it past him to be in some way responsible for the outbreak of the plague in Reth!" Pilos knew that was far-fetched, but in an unsettling way, it seemed to tie everything together, explain why everything had happened the way it did. He just hadn't yet figured out a motive. So he threw it in, figuring he was already hip-deep in trouble if the council didn't see things his way.