Lallara gave Samas a nasty leer. "That leaves you, hog."
"Curse you all," the transmuter said, sweat beading his ruddy brow. "This is madness."
"Oh, probably. But what if you desert us, and then the mad plan works? I hope you don't think we'll tolerate you back in Thay or in the Wizard's Reach, either. By the Seven Shields, I'm not sure I could abide the thought of your continued existence anywhere."
"All right!" Samas snarled. "If you all insist, we can try it and see where we are in a few days."
Once they all had agreed, they had to elaborate on Bareris's basic idea, and that took most of the night. Selune and her trail of glittering Tears had forsaken the sky by the time the council broke up.
Though tired, Aoth felt an impulse to mount the battlements and check for signs of trouble before he sought his bed. Pulling his cloak tight against the cold breeze whistling from the east, he started up the stairs that climbed to the top of the wall, and Bareris followed a step behind him.
"That went all right," said Aoth, "but when we were arguing about what to do, I was surprised you left me to do so much of the talking. After all, you're the eloquent one."
"Since they all came around," Bareris replied, "plainly, you were eloquent enough. Besides, I couldn't talk and hum at the same time."
Aoth stopped and looked around. "I didn't hear any humming."
"Because I did it very softly." Bareris's black eyes suddenly opened wider. "But I swear, you weren't the target!"
"I believe you. I trust you, and even if I didn't, my feelings didn't change. I was resolved to continue the fight before the council ever began. I'm just appalled because those four are zulkirs. More than that, Lauzoril is the master of enchantment, and Lallara, of defensive magic."
"I knew it was risky. Still, I hoped I could give them a little nudge and get away with it."
Aoth took a deep breath. "Well, I won't argue with success. Or claim to be outraged at the thought of manipulating them as callously as they've always exploited anyone under their sway."
"Good. I wouldn't want to part company with bad feelings between us."
"When will you and Mirror split off from the army?"
"As soon as the march is under way."
"I believe the griffon you were riding survived the battle unharmed."
"Thanks, but I don't need him. At this point, any sentry who spots a griffon rider will immediately think of Aoth Fezim and his sellswords. I'll do better to choose another steed from among the ones the enemy kept here in the Ring." A smile came and went on his pallid face. "It was… pleasant to ride a griffon one last time."
"After we destroy Szass Tam, you can ride them whenever you like."
"I think I'll visit the stables now." Bareris turned and headed back down the stairs.
Malark felt a hostile presence lurking on his right. Employing the mental skills he'd learned as a Monk of the Long Death, he ignored it and kept his awareness focused on the silent stretch of tunnel ahead of him. That was where his quarry was likely to appear.
The Watcher, as generations of Red Wizards and their servants had called his invisible and unwanted companion, haunted a section of the catacombs decorated with dingy paintings of scenes from which all the people and animals seemed to have vanished-throne rooms without monarches or courtiers, wedding feasts devoid of bride, groom, guests, and musicians, and forests uninhabited by birds or squirrels. The spirit never actually did anything to mortals who trespassed in its domain. Still, most people found the pressure of its hateful regard so nerve-wracking that they gave this part of the dungeons a wide berth.
To Malark, though, it was no great matter. He actually found himself more distracted by thoughts of his magical twin.
He'd sensed it when his counterpart had died, and he felt a wry sort of envy. He'd wooed death for centuries, to no avail. His twin had needed to exist for only a few days before the greatest of all powers had seen fit to extinguish him. And since the two Malarks had been exactly alike, it was difficult to perceive any sort of justice in the event.
But in light of the destiny he was pursuing, he didn't really mind-unless his double's demise indicated that the unique instrument Szass Tam had created was in jeopardy. At the moment, it must still exist, for Malark was sure he would have sensed its destruction, also. But was it safe? Despite the regent's tutelage, he wasn't a master diviner, and his magical inquiries on the subject yielded ambiguous results. And unfortunately, hiding here in the depths, he had no other way of obtaining information.
He took a breath, let it go, and sought to dismiss the problem from his mind just as he expelled air from his lungs. A warrior could fight only one fight at a time. He'd address other concerns after he won the current battle.
Thanks to his headband, he glimpsed motion at the very limit of his vision. The murky shapes passed quickly from left to right, proceeding north along a passage that intersected the one he was peering down.
Malark waited for another moment after they disappeared, then, making sure to move silently, jumped up and sprinted through the maze of tunnels. The Watcher kept pace with him. No doubt Szass Tam and the vampire knights felt its oppressive stare as keenly as he did, for its nature was such that it was capable of despising multiple intruders at the same time.
Malark came to a branching passage, halted, and listened. He heard nothing and wasn't surprised. The undead moved quietly too, especially when they were hunting.
If he'd needed to recite an incantation and time the final word with the stalkers' appearance in the gloom, that might have posed a problem, but he'd had the foresight to store the spell he required in a ring. When his pursuers, following the trail he'd laid for them, came into view, he extended his arm and breathed the trigger word. A spark erupted from the cabochon ruby set in the gold band and streaked at Szass Tam and his bodyguards.
When it reached the hunters, the spark flared and boomed into an explosion of yellow flame. Malark knew better than to suppose it would do much harm to Szass Tam. The lich was too powerful and too wrapped in protective enchantments. But with any luck, it would incinerate the vampires.
It certainly appeared to. It took Malark an instant to realize he'd glimpsed only two armored bodies breaking apart in the flash.
Which suggested he wasn't the only one capable of trickery. Szass Tam and two of the knights had stayed together in an effort to snare his attention while a third vampire prowled alone in the hope of creeping up on him.
Malark pivoted, and the creature was right behind him. The warrior was just completing the process of changing from wisps of mist to human form, but he already had his sword in his hand. He made a horizontal cut at Malark's torso.
Malark hopped back just far enough to evade the attack, then instantly lunged, cudgel shimmering with destructive power and poised to strike. The guard took a retreat and parried the blow.
As Malark would have expected of a warrior Szass Tam evidently trusted, the vampire was an expert combatant. Not so expert that Malark couldn't defeat him, but the problem was that he couldn't bide his time and wait for an opening. With luck, the fire magic had staggered the archmage, but he'd recover quickly and advance. And if Malark was still stuck here dueling the vampire when his liege lord arrived, Szass Tam would surely strike him down.
Malark murmured the opening words of an incantation and flicked the ebony wand through a star-shaped figure. Fangs bared, the vampire sprang in and made a head cut. The move was virtually a reflex for any seasoned warrior: If the wizard you're fighting starts reciting a spell, hit him before he can finish. Spoil the magic.
Malark shifted inside the arc of the cut, and the blade fell harmlessly behind him. Remembering that he mustn't shout-Szass Tam might well recognize his battle cry-he focused his strength, stiffened his fingers inside their clawed demon-hide glove, and drove them through the vampire's breastplate and ribs and into his chest. He gripped the creature's cold, motionless heart and ripped it out. The knight collapsed.