Temple of the Dragonslayer (28 page)

They gathered in the dining hall once more, and Feandan and Nysse gave the others the bad news.

“The malady that has afflicted Nearra appears to be sorcerous in nature,” Feandan said. “And at the moment, there is little we can do to help.”

“Why?” Catriona asked. “Are you telling us that wizardry is more powerful than the gods?”

“Not at all,” Feandan said. “But wizardry comes from the gods
as well as healing power. The moons grant magic to wizards on behalf of the gods whose names they bear: Solinari, Lunitari, and Nuitari. Because of this, the healing magic given to me by Paladine and to Nysse by Mishakal was ineffective. Not because their power is weaker than that of the gods of magic, but because the gods are reluctant to interfere with each other’s spheres of influence unless absolutely necessary.”

“And evidently Paladine and Mishakal do not believe it’s desirable to intervene in Nearra’s case,” Nysse said.

Nearra felt the crushing weight of hopelessness settle on her soul. If the gods wouldn’t help her, who would?

As if she’d read Nearra’s mind, Nysse added, “Do not fear that the gods have abandoned you, my child. You were in a great deal of pain. Perhaps the gods recognized you would be injured if the healing continued.”

“And it’s possible they believe that a sorcerous problem requires a sorcerous solution,” Feandan added. “All four of us will need to meditate upon the matter so that we might determine our next course of action.”

The other clerics nodded their agreement with Feandan’s words.

“So what are the rest of us to do in the meantime?” Jax asked.

Feandan smiled. “Your journey, while not that long in terms of distance, was nevertheless most eventful. I imagine you could all use a bit of a rest.”

“And a bath, too,” Sindri said, wrinkling his nose. “Jax’s fur is really starting to smell.”

“WHAT?” the minotaur roared, and Sindri scampered behind the clerics for protection.

The others laughed, but the best Nearra could manage was a thin smile. She didn’t know how she could possibly hope to rest after their failure in the Chamber of the Sky. Not only did she still not know who she was or where she came from, it was beginning to look like she’d never find out.

C
an’t sleep?” Catriona asked.

Nearra sat up. The clerics had provided simple mattresses stuffed with leaves and grass for their guests—not the most comfortable of beds, but they were all they had to offer.

“No. I just can’t stop thinking, I guess.”

Catriona nodded and returned to looking out the window.

Catriona’s mattress was next to Nearra’s, but the warrior wasn’t lying on it. Instead she sat cross-legged on the stone floor, still wearing her armor, of course. Both moons were visible. Solinari and Lunitari, silver and red, one close to full and the other little over halfway there. If what Feandan had said was accurate, the moons’ light radiating down upon Krynn was in truth magic power wizards drew upon to fuel their spells. Nearra would never look at moonlight the same way again.

A sudden rumbling-snorting sound came from the room next door, and Nearra chuckled. “How can you meditate with Jax snoring like that?”

Catriona took a deep breath, held it for several long moments, and then let it out slowly. When she was finished, she turned and crawled over to her bed. She lay on her side facing Nearra, and propped herself up with an elbow.

The warrior smiled. “It isn’t easy. So what have you been thinking about?”

“Everything.” Nearra wanted to share her concerns about Davyn with someone, but Catriona was already suspicious of him. She didn’t want to make things worse by expressing her worries about the ranger. “What if the clerics can’t find a way to restore my memories? What will I do then?”

Catriona thought for a moment before answering. “The only thing you can do—make new memories.”

The thought made Nearra feel better. She still intended to try to recover her memories, but if she couldn’t, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. One way or another, she would be able to go on with her life.

“Would you like to join me in meditation?” Catriona offered. “It will clear your mind so that you can sleep.”

Jax’s snoring suddenly became louder. It sounded as if he had a hive full of angry bees stuck in his throat.

Nearra laughed. “I don’t think I’m up to the challenge tonight, but thanks for the offer.”

Catriona nodded, then returned to her position in front of the window. Nearra lay back down, closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the minotaur’s snoring. Despite the noise, she was soon fast asleep.

Next door, Davyn lay awake while Jax, Sindri, and Elidor slept. Jax’s snoring kept Davyn from dozing off. The minotaur was making more noise than an avalanche! Davyn had no idea how Sindri and Elidor could ignore the sound and sleep, but they did. Davyn envied them.

Like the girls next door, Davyn had left the window open to let in the cool night air. But Davyn had another reason for wanting the window open—he was expecting a summons.

Davyn’s heartbeat thundered in his ears and the vegetable soup they’d eaten for supper roiled in his stomach. He didn’t
know if he could bear to keep up this act much longer.

Everything had begun to go wrong almost from the moment Nearra had awakened in the forest, Davyn thought. Maddoc had said he’d planned for every eventuality, but even a wizard as powerful and intelligent as Maddoc wasn’t perfect. How could Maddoc have possibly foreseen that Davyn and Nearra would encounter Sindri, Catriona, Elidor, Jax, and Raedon, let alone the impact they would have on his plans?

Of all of them, the one who had most interfered with Maddoc’s plans was Davyn himself. At first, he had done as the wizard had asked of him. He’d helped hire Nearra to serve in Maddoc’s keep, and had stood by while the wizard had conducted the mystic rite that transferred the spirit of the ancient sorceress Asvoria into Nearra’s body. And when Asvoria’s personality failed to take control of Nearra, Maddoc had come up with a plan to force the sorceress to, as he called it, emerge. Maddoc cast a spell to rob Nearra of her memories, so as to make more room for Asvoria’s personality. Then he cast a sleep spell on Nearra and Davyn had carried her into the forest. It had been Davyn who had laid her on the path. Then he had run back to join Maddoc in the clearing, where they watched as the goblins chased Nearra directly into Slean’s path. Maddoc believed that when Asvoria’s new life was in danger—or at least, when she
believed
it was—the sorceress would take control of Nearra’s body in order to protect herself. But when that didn’t happen immediately, they had been forced to attempt an alternate plan, with Davyn leading Nearra on a quest to restore her memories.

Maddoc never expected they would actually reach the Temple of the Holy Orders of the Stars. Davyn was supposed to use the journey as a ruse to lead Nearra into danger and force the Emergence. As instructed, he had guided Nearra into another encounter with Slean and a confrontation with the goblin band in the forest, and finally he had led her to the ogre. And when Nearra and the others had begun to suspect him, he’d lied to them … lied to people who had become his friends.

He had done as Maddoc had instructed in every way but one. Several times now, Nearra had shown signs of the Emergence, but instead of letting it happen, Davyn had stepped in to prevent it, and Nearra had returned to normal each time. Maddoc wanted the Emergence to take place—it was what he had worked so long and so hard for. Davyn should have helped the Emergence occur, not stop it. But he hadn’t, and he wasn’t sure why.

Davyn thought of Nearra and the way she looked the night before as they’d talked. Her eyes had sparkled in the moonlight, blue as the evening sky. He thought of how she had insisted they continue the journey to the temple. She was strong and brave, in spite of everything that had happened to her.

But most of all, the concern she had shown for him after he had passed out during the battle with Ugo tugged at his conscience. While it was difficult for Davyn to believe—especially after all he had done—it was clear that Nearra genuinely cared for him.

Davyn had to face facts. Though he knew he shouldn’t have allowed himself to become emotionally attached to Nearra, he had. After Davyn had helped rescue Nearra from Underfell, in spite of his knowledge of Maddoc’s plan, he could no longer deny the truth about his feelings for Nearra. He had to admit, he’d grown fond of the others, as well. They were the closest things to friends that he’d ever known. How could he betray them?

It was quite late, and Davyn didn’t think he could resist sleep any longer. He was just about to drift off when he finally heard what he’d been listening for: the cry of a falcon.

He rose slowly from his bedroll and stood. He’d lain down fully dressed—he’d even kept his boots on—so he’d be prepared. He briefly considered bringing his bow and quiver of arrows in case he needed them, but he decided against it. He was afraid of making too much noise and waking his roommates. Even with the sound of Jax’s snoring to drown out any noise he might make, Davyn wasn’t certain he could keep from waking his companions. None of the three were human, and while they possessed heightened senses, Davyn wasn’t sure just
how
heightened they were. He decided it would be best to be cautious, so he left his bow and arrows on the floor.

He stepped carefully to the window and peered out. Thankfully, their room was on the ground floor. Davyn climbed over the windowsill and dropped lightly to the ground, making no sound as he landed.

He crouched there for a moment, listening. But all he heard was the minotaur’s snoring. Satisfied that he hadn’t woken anyone, Davyn clenched his fists and stalked toward the temple gate.

Davyn had made up his mind. He was going to find a way to convince Maddoc to abandon his plan. It wasn’t worth hurting so many people.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy to change Maddoc’s mind. Maddoc did not take kindly to dissension. The last time a servant had questioned Maddoc’s wisdom, the wizard had thrown him off the top of the keep. Thereafter, any servant who could no longer stand working for the wizard would simply sneak out in the night. But Davyn didn’t have the luxury of quitting the wizard’s service and finding work elsewhere. For there was one more thing Davyn had lied about.

Davyn wasn’t Maddoc’s servant.

Davyn was Maddoc’s son.

Elidor was normally a light sleeper. In his line of work, one had to be. Plus, his hearing was able to block out the truly thunderous noise of Jax’s snoring while still being able to hear the
scuff-scuff-scuff
of Davyn’s boots as he walked across the stone floor.

Elidor came instantly awake, but he didn’t open his eyes, not yet. He might have been young for an elf, but he knew enough not to give himself away.

When he heard Davyn jump to the ground, Elidor rose, slipped on his boots, and then glided over to the window with liquid grace.

His kind were gifted with the ability to see almost as well at night as they could in the day—provided there was at least a little light for their eyes to use. And the illumination from the two moons was more than enough for Elidor to see Davyn sneak across the temple’s courtyard and head for the gate.