The Sentinel

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 god’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 space 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, passing 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 god sends his unliving-”

“Your god,” 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 goddess 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 bloody 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.”

Arietta was quick to shake her head. “Please, no,” she said. “I couldn’t stand his company that long.”

Kleef nodded, then looked down into Malik’s eyes. “That just leaves the question of justice,” he said. “For what he’s done, we’d be within the Law to kill him.”

“Which he obviously doesn’t fear.” Arietta studied the gash he had opened in the side of his neck, then said, “At least not as much as he fears having failed Cyric.”

Beads of sweat rolled down Malik’s brow. “Leave me alive, and you will never be safe,” he said. “I will hunt you down and-”

Kleef’s boot crashed into the side of Malik’s head, bringing the threat to an abrupt end as the little man’s eyes rolled back in their sockets.

Kleef kneeled down and moved Malik’s head back and forth to make sure he was truly unconscious, then looked up and asked, “You still want to leave him alive?”

Arietta nodded. “Serving Cyric brings its own justice, I suspect,” she said. “And killing him would do no honor to Joelle. Better to leave him to meet his fate with Gingrid and her unliving friends.”

Kleef nodded his agreement. “Well said.” He unbuckled Malik’s sword belt. “But there’s no reason to make it easy for him to come after us, either.”

Arietta retrieved the black dagger that had almost killed her earlier. Despite a lopsided hilt and a notch at the base of the blade, the dagger was a fine weapon, light and slender and surprisingly well-balanced. She tucked it into her belt, then turned toward Kleef.

“I think the time has come to look to our future,” Arietta said. She started across the anteroom. “Will you see me home, Sir Kenric?”

Kleef smiled and bowed. “As you command, my lady.”

He opened the door, and they stepped cautiously out onto the drawbridge.

Sadrach Castle lay in ruins. Much of its stonework had been eaten to the ground by the spell Yder had released into the barracks wall. The inner bailey was filled with orc corpses and the undead who were feasting upon them. Meanwhile, dozens of dazed-looking humans-wallbound released by the destruction of their stony prison-wandered about, searching for their lost friends and relatives.

Beyond the castle stretched an endless plain of raw brown earth, still churning and billowing upward as it filled the vast void that had once been the Underchasm. As Arietta followed Kleef across the drawbridge, she heard a sound coming from a window high behind her. Somewhere in the keep, an old man was weeping with joy, at once cackling and sobbing, thanking the gods that his long nightmare had come to an end.