Authors: Thomas M. Reid
About that time, another figure strolled onto
the deck of the ship. Darvin Blackcrown spotted the wizard and smiled to himself. He made his way over to the bespectacled fellow peering across the bow at the wave-tossed horizon and said, “Hello, Bartimus.”
The wizard jumped, startled, and whirled around to face the assassin. “Where did you come from?” he stammered, fear plain in his eyes.
Darvin chuckled. “From Arrabar, the same as you,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to cause you trouble. I’m just on my way to Hlondeth to conduct some business on behalf of … my employer.” He wasn’t sure Bartimus would want to know that Eles Wianar was sending him. “Where are you headed?”
“Away,” Bartimus answered. “To someplace where I can conduct my research undisturbed. I don’t ever want to see a House insignia again.”
Darvin had to chuckle. “I don’t blame you,” he said. Then an idea hit him. “Perhaps you’d like to travel with me? Where I’m going, I could use your help. And if it works out, I can make it worth your while. Think about ita fully stocked laboratory, all the research time you want, no one bothering you to scry on folks when you are busy. Sound good?”
“Maybe,” Bartimus said. “What would you want in return?”
Darvin smiled. “Let’s just get to Turmish and see how things go. If you are interested, we can talk details later.”
The wizard nodded. “All right,” he said.
“Good,” Darvin said, smiling. Perhaps he could get back into his father’s good graces more quickly than he had thought.
In a scrying chamber in the deepest recesses of the Generon, Eles Wianar stared at a stack of notes, piles of parchment with information on them that he had been carefully scribing for twelve years. In a burst of fury, he took hold of one of the piles and tossed it into a brazier, then sat and watched the corners curl up from the heat before the pile burst into flame.
Twelve years! What a waste, he thought.
There were so many people to blame. The Matrells, of course, had earned his enmity for all of their meddling. He would have to do something about that. He was certain of it. But that could wait. Let the fire burn down to embers, he thought. Then the time will be right.
But there were others, as wellincompetent fools to single out. He was not happy with Darvin. Sending him away, insisting that the boy visit Turmish, was a good thing for both of them. Kept apart, Darvin would learn the lesson of humility and redouble his efforts at accomplishing the goals Eles set before him. And Eles would be less tempted to disintegrate him in a fit of rage.
Grozier Talricci and Falagh Mestel weren’t really at fault. If anything, they were only guilty of figui, ing out their roles in the whole affair a tad too soon. But that hadn’t really affected the outcome. No, even with all of that, Rodolpho was the one most responsible for the breakdown in the plan. It couldn’t have been helped, of course; Eles had hoped he could trust his cousin, but it was not something he could control. Not for twelve years, at any rate.
That just left Lavant. Fool priest, Eles thought. Got a little too power-hungry for his own good. And see what it cost him?
Eles turned toward a large mirror leaning against
a wall of his scrying chamber, one mirror among several. He spoke a command word, watched as the surface of the mirror rippled and glowed, and smiled as a fat, pale face appeared. “Hello, Lavant,” the Shining Lord said.
“By Waukeen’s mercy, please let me out of here!” the naked, obese priest pleaded. “I am at your service, ready to do anything you need! You know my powers are formidable, and they are at your command. Just please, please release me!”
Eles smiled. “In good time, Lavant, in good time,” tie said. “I’m formulating some new ideas, a new possibility for bringing Reth back into the fold of Chondath, where it belongs. I think you might be able to help me with my plans.”
“Yes, oh, absolutely, my lord,” Lavant said, looking hopeful. “Whatever I can do.”
“Excellent,” Wianar replied. “I’m so happy to see your enthusiasm. I should be ready for your services in about twelve years.”
As Lavant screamed, Eles Wianar uttered the command that closed the window on the priest’s cell, sending him back to the darkness.
THE SCIONS OF ARRABAR00THE EMERALD SCEPTER
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