"That may be," said Malark. "I certainly wouldn't wager against you, Your Omnipotence, but even knowing the decision's not particularly sensible, I prefer to oppose you."
Szass Tam cocked his head. "Why?"
"Without intending any insult, I have to confess the undead repulse me. Everything should live and die in its season, so I'm not partial to the idea of a lich king, and likewise not averse to the idea of this long war you promise. It promises to be quite a spectacle."
"I'm against you, too," said Aoth, though the words made him feel as if he were slipping his neck into a noose. "I swore my oath to Nymia Focar, so if she stands with the council, so do I." He hesitated. "Actually, there's more to it than that. I saw what your undead raiders did in Pyarados to the 'humbler folk' you say you'd like to spare. I saw the torches explode in the hands of the priests who trusted you, and it all just sticks in my craw a little."
"I regret those deaths," said Szass Tam, "but they were necessary to further a greater good."
"What 'greater good?'" Aoth demanded. "You already ruled Thay, or near enough. The other zulkirs followed your lead more often than not. Why must you wear an actual crown even if it brings ruin on the land?"
Szass Tam hesitated. "It's a little complicated."
"Not for me," Bareris gritted. "Your servants destroyed the woman I loved and hundreds of innocents like her. You made yourself the enemy of your own people, and we'd all be crazy to give you our trust or fealty ever again."
"You gentlemen disappoint me," said the lich. "Is there none among you with any breadth or clarity of thought? Does it truly matter if a few peasants perished a day or a decade early? Everyone suffers and dies in the end, and the world rolls on just the same without him. That's the sad, shabby way of things as they are." He looked at Bareris. "In a year or two, you'll forget all about this lass you think you adored."
"You're wrong," said Bareris. "I'll never forget her, and I'll make sure you don't, either."
Szass Tam looked around the circle of captains. "I'll ask once more: Are you all of one mind? Does no one believe the Griffon Legion ought to side with the eldest and most powerful zulkir? The wizard whom, in your private thoughts, you already considered the one true master of Thay?"
Apparently no one did. Probably more than one of them questioned the wisdom of his choice, but awed and frightened by the lich, they'd kept mum while Aoth, Malark, and Bareris presented a united front, and now, perhaps, it was easier to remain silent than dissent.
"So be it then. Just don't say I didn't give you a chance." Szass Tam rose, and Aoth tensed. Truce or no, it wouldn't astonish him if the necromancer, his offer spurned, lashed out with some terrible spell.
Instead he simply nodded goodnight and turned his back to them as if they were trusted friends then strolled toward the perimeter of the camp.
"Your Omnipotence!" Malark called.
Szass Tam glanced back around. "Yes?"
"May I ask one question?"
"Go ahead, though I don't promise an answer you'll understand."
"Tell us why you killed Druxus Rhym."
"How astute of you to wonder. Suffice it to say, I spoke of necessary sacrifices, and poor Druxus's was the most vital and regrettable of all." Szass Tam took another step, and then, abruptly, he was gone, vanished between one instant and the next.
Aoth realized he was holding his breath and let it out. "That was… interesting. What did we just do?"
Malark grinned. "Signed our own death warrants, probably."
"I wish I believed you were wrong." Aoth turned to the other officers. "Get the men moving. We have to clear out. Maybe Szass Tam didn't feel like dirtying his own hands slaughtering us, but now that he knows where we are, he could still send wraiths and skin kites down on our heads."
epilogue
2 Flamerule, the Year of Risen Elfkin
Night after night, the bats ranged this way and that, attacking scaly little kobolds, shaggy mountain sheep, and whatever other prey they could find. Gradually, the blood replenished their strength.
The one direction they didn't want to fly was north. They couldn't remember precisely why, but they had a sense that if they traveled in that direction, something fundamental would change and existence would become abhorrent.
Yet over time, they did drift north. They simply couldn't help it.
At last they reached the wide round shaft plunging deep into the earth. They realized they'd seen it before, and the entity floating above the rim of the well also. He looked like a huge, malformed fetus, and impossible as it seemed, he was even more grotesque than formerly. His eyes were more ill-matched, with one approximately human and the other globular and white.
The same was true of his hands. One remained a puny, rotting thing, but its mate was now enormous, ink black, and possessed of long talons. A ring of sutures revealed that someone had stitched it on.
The bats made one final effort to flee but only in their thoughts. Their will was so thoroughly constrained that even as they struggled, they swooped to the rim of the well, swirled together, and became a single being.
With unity came memory, and Tammith realized who and what she was. Anguish rose inside her.
"Daughter!" Xingax crowed. "This is wonderful! I was certain I'd lost you, but then I felt you returning to me."
She yearned to attack him, yearned, too, to put an end to herself and knew she could do neither.
"You must tell me," said Xingax, "how did you survive?"
"He cut me apart," she said dully. Bareris had, her love, and had been right to do it. "It was horrible, but it didn't kill me, and somehow I turned the pieces into bats and flew inside a house. I made it just before the sunlight came."
Xingax smiled. "I told you you're special."
"I'm vile!" she spat. "You changed me to fight in an army, and we lost. The other creatures died. Let me die too."
He pouted. "I'd hoped that by now you would have put such foolish notions behind you. Our master didn't lose his whole army, just a fraction of it, and of course you'll continue to serve with the host that remains. I predict that in time you'll rise to be one of its greatest champions. Now come below. You can have your pick of the slaves, and that will make you feel better."
personages of thay
The Zulkirs
Aznar Thrul (Evocation); also tharchion of Priador
Druxus Rhym (Transmutation)
Lallara (Abjuration)
Lauzoril (Enchantment)
Mythrellan (Illusion)
Nevron (Conjuration)
Szass Tam (Necromancy)
Yaphyll (Divination)
The Tharchions
Azhir Kren (Gauros)
Dimon (Tyraturos); also a priest of Bane
Dmitra Flass (Eltabbar); also a Red Wizard of Illusion and princess of Mulmaster; "the First Princess of Thay"
Hezass Nymar (Lapendrar); also Eternal Flame of the temple of Kossuth in Escalant
Homen Odesseiron (Surthay)
Invarri Metron (Delhumide)
Milsantos Daramos (Thazalhar)
Nymia Focar (Pyarados)
Pyras Autorian (Thaymount)
Thessaloni Canos (Alaor)
Others
Iphegor Nath, High Flamelord of the Church of Kossuth
Ramas Ankhalab, autharch of Anhaurz
Samas Kul, Master of the Guild of Foreign Trade; also a Red Wizard of Transmutation
Shabella the Pale, Guildmistress of the Temple of Mask in Bezantur; also chief of that city's thieves' guild