The Sundering: The Sentinel Part 26

The face on Arietta's side of the keep lowered its arched brows, and the hands gestured more frantically. Kleef had to resist the urge to draw Watcher and rush out beside her-which would only have gotten them both killed, he suspected.

Arietta continued to stride forward. "You will not cast magic at me or my friends."

Her voice was commanding but nervous, and Sadrach's hands paused for only a moment before renewing their gestures. Arietta continued across the bridge at the same steady pace, her stride just awkward enough to betray the doubt Kleef wished he had not planted in her mind.

A sudden bang sounded from the mouth of the gatehouse, and Arietta's knees seemed to buckle just a little. Kleef was halfway to the door before Gingrid caught him by the arm and dragged him back.

"Look," she said, pointing through the window. "Your friend's blessing is working, or Grandfather would have killed her by now."

Arietta was three-quarters of the way across the bridge and still striding confidently forward, her gaze fixed on the stony face above.

"And you will stop behaving like an ogre." This time, there was nothing but anger in her voice. "Your granddaughter is terrified of you, as are the rest of the people you trapped in the walls of your castle. If you cannot free them, then you will at least stop tormenting them."

Arietta reached the archway at the far end of the bridge, which sheltered the closed doors. Once she was in the alcove, there was no way the face on the wall could continue watching her-nor could the stony hands cast a spell in her direction.

But the keep began trembling even more fiercely-so fiercely that Kleef feared Sadrach might soon loosen the keystone above Arietta's head. He shot an angry glare in Malik's direction, but it was clear that Arietta would never have made it across the bridge, had the little man not been right about her becoming one of the Chosen. If Arietta's powers failed her now, it would only be because of the doubt Kleef had placed in her mind.

Malik returned Kleef's glare with a smug little smile, then s.h.i.+fted his gaze back to the keep, where the stones had finally stopped trembling. The mad anger soon drained from all four of Sadrach's faces, and his hands stopped weaving their spells. The door to the keep swung open.

Kleef breathed a sigh of relief, then nodded to Malik. "It seems I owe you an apology."

"Yes, and I will accept one later," Malik said, heading for the drawbridge. "After we have delivered the Eye."

The group was less than a quarter of the way across when the orcs spotted them and began to stream across the bailey toward the keep. Gingrid volunteered to stay behind and handle the problem-no doubt using the undead and the wallbound. She told them how to find the entrance to Grumbar's Temple, and ten minutes later, Kleef was leading the way down a narrow, spiraling pa.s.sage deep beneath the keep. An eerie gray glow lit the way, always seeming to come from just around the bend. Like the pa.s.sage itself, the steps had been hewn from the surrounding stone, and they were so narrow that two men could not stand on them side by side. The air was dank and musty, but still fresh enough that the only obvious whiff of decay came from Malik.

Kleef kept expecting to see a warning glow rise from the agate on Watcher's crossguard, or to feel a band of Shadovar lurking around the bend ahead, but the only enemies they encountered were the phantoms of his own imagination.

Finally, the pa.s.sage opened into a small, seven-sided chamber with uncut gems glowing from the walls in seven different colors. In the center of the room stood a mountain-shaped dais with seven slopes, each veined with a different native metal. The summit of the dais rose into the shape of a huge seven-fingered hand, held open and flat. The palm was large enough for a man to sit upon, and Kleef could imagine Sadrach seated atop the strange throne, meditating on the changeless nature of the earthlord.

"At last!" Malik slipped past Kleef and started for the dais. "No one will be happier than me to see this done."

He was no more than halfway there when a cold pool of darkness began to seep from the base of the stone walls around them. It was impossible to guess whether Shar was coming for them or the boundary between the physical realm and the Shadowfell had simply grown that tenuous, but the result was the same-Malik stopped and looked down in horror.

Kleef rushed to Malik's side. "Don't stop now!" He slipped a hand beneath the little man's arm, then glanced back to find Arietta and Joelle close behind. "What next?"

Joelle pointed at the dais. "Deliver the Eye," she said. "The rest is for fate to decide."

By the time she finished speaking, the darkness had congealed into a blanket of gloom and spread across the entire floor. Kleef could feel the murky stuff drawing the warmth and sensation from his feet, turning them into numb bricks of ice. He lifted Malik off the floor and carried him the last few steps to the center of the room, then placed him on the edge of the dais.

Kleef felt the darkness swirl around his ankles.

"Hurry!"

Malik reached up, grabbing hold of the seven-fingered hand and using it to pull himself up a gold-veined slope to the top. He reached into his robe, and Kleef felt the Eye of Gruumsh hunting for him, a profane hunger searching for a bitterness that no longer existed.

The darkness climbed toward Kleef's knees, and he could no longer think of it as anything but the Shadowfell, Shar's cold oblivion rising up to take the world.

Malik placed the Eye in Grumbar's stony hand.

"A token from your beloved," he said. "Your rival's only eye."

A soft rumble arose inside the dais, so deep and sonorous that Kleef heard it more in his stomach than in his ears. The entire temple began to shudder in a slow, pulsing rhythm, and the m.u.f.fled crump of grinding stones reverberated from the temple walls.

Then the veins on the Eye began to throb, and the savage fury of Gruumsh became a burning fear in the pit of Kleef's stomach. He wanted nothing more than to flee and leave Toril's fate to the G.o.ds, but he could not. He had sworn a vow.

The Shadowfell was seeping in from all sides now. Malik slid back down to the edge of the dais, his gaze fixed on Arietta.

"I hope you have said your farewells," he said. "I fear we are at the end of our time."

Arietta nodded. "I'm ready." She stood a few paces from Kleef, holding Joelle's hand, her eyes moist, her chin held high. She turned to Joelle and asked, "How do we do this?"

"We don't-not you, my lady." Kleef turned to Joelle. "I can't allow it."

Joelle's eyes glimmered with approval, as though she had actually been expecting his declaration, but behind Kleef, Malik was aghast.

"What do you mean you can't allow it?" he demanded. "Sune must have her love sacrifice."

"And she will," Kleef said, directing his answer to Joelle. "When Arietta offered her life, it was because she knew it was the only way to save Toril."

Joelle nodded, her eyes patient and knowing. "I had the same thought."

Arietta's eyes widened in alarm.

Kleef gave her no time to object. "But you are not the only one who loves Arietta." He flipped Watcher around, setting the hilt on the floor and bracing it in place by leaning his chest against the tip. "And when I offer my life, it will be to save hers."

Arietta's jaw fell, and she shook her head. "You can't!"

"Of course he can," Malik said. He looked to Joelle. "The question is, will sacrificing Kleef work instead?"

Joelle glanced past Kleef toward Malik, her eyes cold with dislike. "Probably better."

"Good," Kleef said.

The Shadowfell was swirling around his thighs now, and would soon reach the top of the dais and begin its advance toward the Eye. Kleef's legs had gone cold and numb from the knees down, and he felt as though he were standing on pillars of ice. He looked up and met Arietta's eyes, then steeled himself to begin the long fall forward.

"Kleef," she said. "Please-"

Her sentence came to an abrupt end when Malik leaped into view, a little black dagger in his upraised hand, his eyes locked firmly on Arietta's heart.

"For the One and All!" He swung the dagger toward Arietta. "For the Prince-"

His cry ended as Joelle hurled herself into Malik's side, driving him back onto the dais. As the dagger came down, it opened a shallow gash across Joelle's back, then they both dropped into the Shadowfell and vanished from sight.

Arietta screamed and lunged after them.

Kleef rolled himself off Watcher's tip. Blood was seeping into his tunic, and his chest ached where the sword had already started to drive through his breastbone. He kicked the hilt into the air and grabbed it on the move, then stepped to Arietta's side as she plunged her arms down into the swirling darkness.

She cried out in dismay, but when she rose into a kneeling position, her arms wrapped around her beloved's torso. Too late. The color had already vanished from Joelle's face, and her lips had gone blue with death.

A tremendous crunching sounded atop the dais. The dull rumbling that had filled the temple faded and the shuddering stopped, and the m.u.f.fled grinding of stone became the hushed hissing of s.h.i.+fting soil. The temple smelled dank and earthy and pure again, and the profane hunger of Gruumsh's searching Eye became just a pa.s.sing moment of revulsion.

Too concerned about what Malik would do next to look away from Arietta, Kleef plunged Watcher into the swirling darkness-and felt the tip sink into something too soft to be flesh. He brought the sword around in a clearing arc and felt it drag through something thick and loose, then raised the blade-and found fresh dirt clinging to it.

When Kleef raised his feet, he felt the ground tugging at his boots-and Malik quickly became a secondary concern. He slipped a hand beneath Arietta's arm and pulled her to her feet.

"It's done," he said. "Time to go-before we get buried."

Arietta rose with tears streaming down her face. She tried to pull Joelle's body up after her, but managed to lift the heartwarder only about halfway out of the congealing darkness.

"Kleef, something has her!"

"Malik?"

Arietta shook her head and thrust an arm toward the temple entrance. Malik was stepping from the chamber into the mouth of the pa.s.sage beyond, still holding the dagger that had killed Joelle. He looked back in their direction and raised the dagger as if to throw it-then saw Kleef glaring at him. He shrugged and lowered his arm, then turned to flee up the stairs.

"We'll deal with him later." Arietta wrapped her arms around Joelle's waist, then said, "First, help me get her out of here."

Kleef swept Watcher through the darkness again, and was dismayed to feel the dirt already twice as deep as before. He stooped down and slipped his free arm around the lifeless heartwarder and tried to pull her free-only to have a seven-fingered hand rise from the floor and wrap her in its earthen grasp.

Arietta cried out and fell backward, but she refused to let go of Joelle. She gathered her feet beneath her and began to pull.

A clatter sounded beside them, and Kleef turned. The hand atop the dais had closed, and a cascade of crushed quartz-all that remained of the Eye of Gruumsh-was streaming from between its stony fingers.

Kleef took Arietta by the arm and gently drew her to her feet.

"Arietta, we have to go ... we have to leave her behind," he said. "That's our sacrifice."

EPILOGUE.

THE SILHOUETTE COULD NOT HAVE BEEN A SHADE.

Arietta was almost certain of it. She had only glimpsed the figure briefly, as he crossed in front of the arrow loops that overlooked the drawbridge. But she had seen enough Shadovar in the last few months to feel confident in her conclusions. The figure had been too short, more swaddled in darkness than a part of it. And his head was too round, his shoulders too slouched.

Definitely not a shade.

Arietta started to reach for Kleef's sleeve, then thought better of it and drew her hand back. Malik would not be easy prey to hunt down, not with his G.o.d's blessings and his inherent cunning. If she wanted justice for Joelle's death, it would be better to let the little man come to them.

Besides, Kleef was a Chosen of Helm, ever vigilant and always aware. If he had not paused when the silhouette crossed in front of the arrow loops, it was because he'd already known someone was there.

As they started across the anteroom toward the drawbridge doors, Kleef lengthened his stride and began to pull away. Arietta let him, knowing he was only making s.p.a.ce to fight. They had been expecting this attack since fleeing Grumbar's Temple, so they both had their swords in hand. Neither one of them knew why Malik wanted Arietta dead, but since he had tried to kill her twice already, it seemed wise to expect a third attempt.

Kleef was just reaching for the drawbridge doors when a dark figure dropped from the ceiling shadows, his dagger leading the way. Arietta yelled a warning, but Kleef was trapped against the still-closed doors with nowhere to leap free.

Instead, he pivoted around, slamming his forearm into his attacker's elbow. The dagger came flying back at Arietta, pa.s.sing so close to her ear that she felt the air stir before it clattered off a wall behind her.

Malik landed on his feet behind Kleef, clutching his broken elbow and howling in pain. Kleef kicked the little man's feet from beneath him, then planted a boot in the center of his chest and started to bring Watcher down.

Arietta raised her hand to stop him. "Hold."

"Hold?" Kleef looked up. "Seriously?"

"For now." Arietta came forward, then looked down into Malik's bulging eyes and asked, "Why?"

"Why what?" Malik replied. "Why should you release me before my G.o.d sends his unliving-"

"Your G.o.d," Arietta interrupted. "Would that be the One and All?"

Malik's eyes bulged wide. "That is but one of his many names."

"And another would be the Prince of Lies?" Arietta asked. "It was him you were calling out to when you attacked me, was it not?" She pressed the tip of her sword to his throat. "Cyric?"

The fear in Malik's eyes gave way to resignation. "So it would seem," he said. "The Most Mighty was as eager as Sune to see Shar stopped."

"That much, I believe," Arietta said. "But why claim to be a Chosen of Myrkul?"

"So Sune would accept the One's help," Malik said, looking her straight in the eye. "She is a jealous G.o.ddess who demands all the glory-"

"The truth, Malik." Arietta pressed down until the tip of her sword drew a bubble of blood so dark it was black. "Or I'll tell Gingrid who you are and let her feed you to her friends."

Malik swallowed, then said, "Perhaps the One also wished to claim Myrkul's old throne."

"What's that have to do with Arietta?" Kleef demanded. "Why do you keep trying to kill her?"

Malik hesitated, no doubt wondering whether he would suffer more by remaining silent or telling the truth. Kleef answered that question by putting more weight on the foot pinning Malik to the floor.

"It was never to be just ... Arietta," Malik gasped. "I was to slay you all."

Kleef paused expectantly, then finally seemed to realize Malik was serious and broke out laughing. "You, kill all of us?" he asked. "What were you thinking?"

"It wasn't ... my idea," Malik said. "The Mighty One desired his own ritual."

Arietta frowned. "A ritual to do what?"

"How am I to know?" Malik demanded. "And why should I tell you anyway? I failed the One, and for that I will suffer a fate worse than any of you can offer."

"Don't be too sure about that," Kleef said. "The punishments for things you have done-"

"Then deliver them ... all."

As Malik spoke, he threw his head back, arching his neck up so quickly that Arietta barely had time to pull her sword away. Even so, he managed to open a b.l.o.o.d.y gash along the side of his throat. Had it been a finger's width to one side, it would have severed an artery.

Kleef quieted him by slamming the flat of Watcher's blade into the side of his head. Then he looked up at Arietta.

"Your call, my lady," he said. "But I think we've learned as much as we're going to-at least without hauling him all the way back to Cormyr for a proper interrogation."