The sudden absence of its weight threw the fomorian off balance. Aoth charged and cut at her nearest leg like a mad logger frantic to fell a tree.
He slashed repeatedly, inflicting new wounds on a limb that, like its mate, was already a gory, tattered mess. Blood spurted. Grontaix roared, stumbled, and fell headlong. When she slammed down, it jolted the floor, and Aoth nearly lost his balance, too.
He sprinted toward her head, grabbed the edge of an ear, and pressed the point of his sword against a pulsing artery in the side of her neck. Don t move! he gasped. Tell the cyclopes to stand down! Now, or you re dead!
She hesitated for a moment, then cried, Everyone, stop! It gave him a vague sort of satisfaction that she sounded as winded as he did.
When he felt confident that she really had stopped fighting, he risked a quick glance around. To his relief, all of his allies appeared to be all right. In fact, they d killed two more cyclopes: one that Jhesrhi had apparently burned to death and another that looked like it had succumbed to a combination of sword cuts and bites from large fanged jaws. The bites didn t look like the results of any spell that Jhesrhi or Cera used, and Aoth could only assume that some magic Zyl commanded was responsible. The surviving retainers were lowering their weapons and backing away from their opponents.
Suddenly the stone plugging one of the arches flew apart with a flash of silvery light and an echoing boom, and more cyclops warriors scrambled through the breach. Fortunately, they faltered when they saw Aoth s blade at Grontaix s throat.
Good, he told the giantess. Now, everyone s going to stay calm, you re going to answer some questions, and then you re going to escort my friends and me safely out of here.
That ll be a good trick, she gritted, considering that I m bleeding out.
He realized that might actually be true. Cera, if you have any power left, keep her alive, he said.
All right, the priestess replied. She stanched the rhythmic arterial spurting with a prayer and a gleaming touch of her hand.
There, said Aoth. You see, this doesn t need to turn ugly. Well, uglier.
Who are you people? the fomorian growled.
Agents of the Iron Lord and the Wychlaran, Aoth replied.
Well, not all of us, said Zyl. It looks like my disguise has outlived its usefulness, so these oafs might as well know who outwitted and defeated them. His body contours flowed as he started shapeshifting.
Though he didn t consider himself a fanciful man, Aoth imagined his new ally might now stand revealed as a sinisterly handsome dark-elf wizard or a notably hideous devil. That, after all, was the sort of transformation that happened in stories. Thus, he felt a mixture of anticlimax and amusement at his own romanticism when the black rat flowed into the shape of a black hare.
But if he wasn t impressed, Grontaix was. You! she snarled.
Zyl laughed as he said, Yes. I ve been hiding right here in your palace for months now.
And I imagine you have some things to say about it, said Aoth to his captive. But they ll keep. Right now, you need to tell me about the undead durthans, and don t bother denying you know what I m talking about. I ve already questioned your warrior Choschax.
The fomorian spat. I curse the night the durthans came back! she said.
The hathrans aren t too happy about it, either, said Aoth. But why apart from your present situation do you say that?
When my folk first allied with the durthans, we were supposed to help them cast down the hathrans, and they were supposed to help us crush our foes in the Feywild
Like me! Zyl interjected. and Shadow alike. But the so-called Witch War was a disaster. The hathrans annihilated the durthans, and our enemies humbled us. There may be some among my people who are eager to try exactly the same thing again in precisely the same way, but I m not one of them. That s why I live apart: because I can t abide the company of fools.
So why, Cera asked, did you help the durthans recruit werewolves to their cause?
The giantess snorted. The curs are nothing, she said. Just a convenience we in this stronghold created to keep true humans off my land.
So by parting with something of little value, said Aoth, you satisfied the durthans and bought yourself time to decide whether you really want to throw in with them again or not.
Yes.
Who s bringing the durthans back?
Other undead, supposedly from somewhere far away. I don t know where, exactly. I ve only met with the durthans, not with the ones who called them from their graves.
If they re from so far away, Vandar asked, shivering and ashenlipped now that his rage had passed, what do they care about Rashemen?
I can t tell you why they chose to come to this land in particular, Grontaix said. But I do know their intent is to establish some sort of hegemony of the dead. The durthans will rule here as they desire, but their dominion will be part of something greater.
Like the tharchs that make up Thay, said Aoth.
I suppose, replied the formorian.
And that explains why these invaders are so concerned about Szass Tam and his lieutenants finding out about them. Thay s already an empire of the undead and necromancy. I doubt it wants a rival, and it may well have the power to destroy this one before it really gets going.
That would be my guess.
And when the undead rule Rashemen, what do your people get out of it?
The fomorian sneered. Those who came to visit me gave essentially the same pledges as before, she said. The undead will rule in the mortal world, and my folk will rule in the spirit realms.
How do the durthans and the other undead travel around Rashemen without the hathrans watchers spotting them?
I can t say, but it s a useful trick.
What else do they have in their quivers? What s their grand strategy for winning a new war?
I don t know that, either.
You must at least have some idea where they ve based their command.
Is it Citadel Tralkarn? Vandar asked, referring to the ruin that had once been the durthans greatest stronghold.
The fomorian snorted. Do you think they re stupid enough to establish themselves in the first place so that you berserkers and such would come looking for them? she said.
No, the invaders visited Citadel Tralkarn early on, before you had any idea that anything was amiss. They reanimated those they could, looted what remained to be looted, and moved on.
Where to? asked Aoth.
I don t know that all their captains are there, or even the chief one. But they re gathering strength at the Fortress of the Half-Demon, Grontaix said with a smirk.
Enough to slaughter your little band, I m sure.
Isn t that a Nar ruin? Cera asked.
Are the newcomers bringing back dead Nars, too?
Ask them when you meet them, assuming you re fool enough to go, the formorian replied.
We won t look foolish with my lodge behind us, Vandar said. This is what my brothers and I have been waiting for. Now that we know where to find our enemies, we can kill them.
Not a chance, Zyl said. Or at least, not unless my people help.
Will they? asked Aoth.
They might, said the hare. A squabble between humans and their dead grannies is no great matter to us. But if these invaders are giving our enemies among the fey silly notions, and if they re tampering with the fiends the Nars left locked in pentacles and the like, that could be a problem. We could certainly ask my prince to send warriors to look into the situation. One of you could tag along with me to help explain it.
While others, Aoth thought, fly back to the lodge house in Immilmar. Then the two forces will rendezvous near the haunted fortress.