The dragon flew from the small glowing pile at dusk, long after the misty phantom had dissipated. Flight was painful, for the efforts of her claw arms had affected her wing mus shy;cles. She pressed on, anxious to put distance between herself and the memory of the strange abomination Jahet had briefly become.
Khisanth could not resist the temptation to look back at the softly glowing mound of hot glass. For one brief and explo shy;sive moment, a thin pillar of flame shot high into the twilight sky, as if trying to touch the constellations themselves. Then the flame was gone.
Chapter 24
The dark cleric's room in the basement of Shalimsha tower was small, cramped, and dark, just the way Andor liked it. As personal cleric to Dragon Highlord Maldeev himself, he rated a much larger space, even a room in the airy upper floors of the tower. But that would not have suited Andor's tastes, devel shy;oped as a youngster in a home carved into the base of an enormous vallenwood tree. Andor was a Qualinesti elf.
Dark elf now, Andor reminded himself bitterly. Cast out by his own people after his study of magic had taken an evil turn, Andor had been pronounced a dark elf and forbidden to call himself a Qualinesti until his actions again reflected the good natures of his people. Unfortunately, bitterness over his banishment had only cemented Andor's affiliation with evil. The cleric always hid his delicately pointed ears beneath a dark, coarse-spun hood that also kept his hairless elven face
in perpetual shadow. He preferred that people feared him for his skills, instead of scorned him, or worse still, pitied him for his outcast status.
Andor was kneeling at the altar to Takhisis in Shalimsha's temple, preparing for the union ceremony he was to perform later in the day between Maldeev and Khisanth. His role was to serve as the channel between the queen and her mortal ser shy;vants, thus his mind would link with the Dragon Queen's during the ceremony. The thought brought fear to the cleric's heart.
She will see my guilt, Andor thought with certainty. She will know the reason for the shame I have borne since the attack. He had to explain himself first. Andor began his fer shy;vent prayers.
"Dragon Queen," the dark cleric began, using the name by which Takhisis was known among elves, "I must humbly beg your forgiveness. I did not intend that my skills be used against one who served you. I didn't know, didn't ask the purpose. It was not my place to question …" The dark elf's voice trailed off, knowing he sounded weak willed, and very guilty. Andor had a sudden thought.
"I know you can read my thoughts if you've a mind to, but you must realize the depth of my regret for my unwitting part in the betrayal. To prove that my allegiance to you is as steadfast as ever, I'll reveal the name of the one who has betrayed us both."
The dark elf leaned in needlessly and whispered, "His name is-"
Andor's voice was abruptly silenced.
Carrying a torch in one hand, Khisanth, as the black-haired woman Onyx, rushed down the narrow, twisting staircase. Not that she liked the human form, but it had its uses. She could never have gotten to the basement of the tower in her enormous dragon form.
The dark cleric Andor would know, if anyone in Shalimsha would, what sort of spell could have caused the hideous transformation of Jahet. Khisanth could not erase from her memory the sight of the glass dragon shattering.
The young woman had to hurry now. The union ceremony with Maldeev was to take place at sundown, and much needed to be done beforehand. Khisanth took the last two steps as one and hastened down the corridor, which was nar shy;row as two humans side by side, though very tall. A young soldier had told her that the dark cleric's door was the second one on the right. Passing the first, she stopped before a small, solid oak door, light in color from lack of exposure to sun shy;light, with a half-oval top. To her surprise, the door was ajar; she could see dim candlelight flickering through the crack.
Onyx knocked loudly. She heard nothing. Peering inside, she slowly pushed the heavy door open. "Andor?" The young woman stepped in tentatively and looked around. Maldeev's dark cleric was in shadow, on his knees at his shrine to Takhisis. "It's Khis-I mean Onyx." She held up her torch as she approached. "I've come to ask your counsel about a magical spell." Onyx's voice caught in her human throat.
Andor, the dark cleric of Dragon Highlord Maldeev, was facedown on the altar, blood trailing from his mouth. A dia shy;mond-encrusted knife protruded from his back.
"Murder within the high ranks of the wing, and on the day of our union," Maldeev muttered darkly. "I hope it's not an ill omen. . . . What this is is damned inconvenient, since Andor was to perform the ceremony." The highlord pushed back the sleeves of his robe and threw a log on the fire, send shy;ing sparks flying.
"I'm sorry I had to be the bearer of such news on this day," said Khisanth.
"What were you doing in the basement, anyway?" the highlord asked without turning.
"I… wanted to ask Andor some questions about the ceremony," Khisanth lied, remembering Jahef s words about Maldeev's distrust of magic.
"You could have asked me," said Maldeev.
"I didn't wish to bother you with minor details," she said quickly. "We'll have to launch an investigation into Andor's death-"
"Yes, of course. Tomorrow," Maldeev said. "Right now I have to arrange for that other little cleric-what's his name, Wiib?-to perform the ceremony. Wait here for me, I have something to discuss with you when I'm finished," he ordered, then strode out the door that led to the interior of the tower.
Khisanth lay her head on her claws, her lips pulled back in a grimace of annoyance. Did he think she had nothing to do today but wait for him? She hoped to get in a quick feast and nap before the festivities. The dragon could make no sense of Maldeev's water clock, but the sunlight coming in from the courtyard told her that there was less than a quarter day left before sundown.
She could take care of one of those tasks here, she realized. Settling in for a nap, Khisanth's head jerked up when a knock sounded at the small door through which Maldeev had just left.
"Come," she said.
Salah Khan's black head wrapping poked through the opening. He saw that Khisanth was alone before the fire. "Excuse me, Number One. I was told the highlord was here," he explained. "There is a problem between the baaz and kapak draconians that requires his immediate attention, and …" The human's muffled voice trailed off awkwardly.
Khisanth had noticed a decided chill in the air during all encounters with Salah Khan since the battle at Lamesh. They both knew that if not for Jahet's death, Khisanth would be exchanging vows with Maldeev's second-in-command today, not the highlord.
"Highlord Maldeev said he would be returning momen shy;tarily. Enter and wait," she invited, nodding toward a spot near the hearth.
The human commander paused, considering. "Thank you," he said at last, then stepped around the door. He moved in to stand before the fire with his arms clasped stiffly behind his back.
Dragon and human waited together in uncomfortable silence. Khisanth feigned sleep; Salah Khan stared straight ahead. Finally the human broke the stillness.
"I wish you well in your impending union, Khisanth," he said. "The wing will benefit from the combination of your's and Maldeev's impressive skills."
"Thank you, Khan," said Khisanth.
The human seemed to relax a bit and even turned to look at the dragon. "Highlord Maldeev must be favored by the gods to have merited union with two such impressive drag shy;ons in one lifetime."
Khisanth only nodded, feeling her spine tingle slightly at the reminder of Maldeev's own assessment of their union.
Salah Khan clasped his hands together and turned his masked face toward the ceiling. "I only thank Takhisis that our brave highlord had the foresight to wear a magical ring into the battle that killed the mighty, faithful Jahet." He was watching Khisanth closely out of the corners of his eyes. "Just think, if he had not overcome his distrust of magic simply to appease Andor and Jahet, why, he might be dead himself!" The human shuddered.
Khan shook his wrapped head. "We shouldn't dwell today on such grim thoughts of what might have been. This day is a monumental one for the entire Black Wing," he finished brightly.
Khisanth could hardly hear the human over the thoughts Kahn's artless words had sent tumbling through her brain.
"Do you think Highlord Maldeev will be much longer?" Salah Khan was asking, looking anxiously toward the door. "I really must be getting back to deal with the problem between the draconians___"
Khisanth struggled to her feet. "Tell the highlord I couldn't wait any longer," she instructed, her tone brusque and dis shy;tant. "Tell him I had something to attend to, that I'll see him in the temple at sundown." With that, the black dragon stormed out of the large doorway and into the courtyard.
Watching her hasty departure, Salah Khan smiled beneath his mask.
Why hadn't she thought of it herself? Khisanth stormed inwardly. The dragon-turned-rodent scurried through the corridors of the tower, pressed into the shadowy corners where wall met floor.
There were only three magical things in proximity to Jahet in the battle that had killed her. Jahet herself, Khisanth, and Maldeev's ring.
Wear the bloody thing, Maldeev. What will it hurt? It just may come in handy.
Jahet herself had talked Maldeev into wearing Andor's creation.
Andor and his ring were the key to the puzzle. The dark cleric was central in, if not the instigator of, a conspiracy against Jahet. His mysterious murder supported the idea that he didn't act alone. Khisanth could think of no reason the cleric would want Jahet dead. Now he was dead, too. Some shy;one had silenced him.
That left only the ring as evidence. Khisanth couldn't sug shy;gest to Maldeev, today of all days, that he might have unwit shy;tingly played some part in Jahef s death. The highlord would be furious and refuse to allow her to inspect the ring. She would simply have to find and examine the ring without his knowing it.
Which was why Khisanth was scurrying toward Mal shy;deev's chambers as a mouse. She hadn't much time before he would return to change for the ceremony. As if to confirm the thought, a young serving girl in muslin cap and apron passed by the mouse, sloshing boiling water from two heavy, gray pine buckets. Setting the pails down before the high-lord's door, the girl knocked perfunctorily, knowing the highlord was not yet present. She turned the knob and kicked the door open. The girl didn't see the brown mouse that skittered in behind her before she kicked the door closed with her heel.