Neverwinter (Neverwinter #2)(68)
“Welcome to all of you,” the servitor went on, and he began speaking to each of them individually, conveying great knowledge of who they were and why they had come.
Valindra tried to listen at first, very curious to get as strong a read on this strange creature as she could. The ambassador was the promise to her, the potential way through the fog that continually clouded her thoughts, or twisted them in directions she never desired. But soon into the remarks by the servitor, the lich felt something else, something too personal for her to ignore.
She felt the creature—not the servitor, but the aboleth itself—probing her thoughts. She “heard” its vibrations and instinctively hesitated and threw up mental barriers. Only for a moment, though, for in truth, the lich feared her continuing mental affliction more than she feared the aboleth. She consciously let her guards down, inviting the creature in.
“Ark-lem!” she called out, her natural reaction to stressful situations. “Ark-lem! Greeth! Gree …”
She bit off the last word as a moment of clarity invaded her confused mind. And not just simple clarity of thought—Valindra had experienced those brief moments, of course, particularly on the battlefield—but clarity combined with insight and memory, and more importantly still, a true memory of the former Archmage of the Hosttower of the Arcane. Suddenly, and for the first time, Valindra remembered the disembodied spirit of Arklem Greeth after the Spellplague, and recalled the sister skull gem, Greeth’s multi-dimensional and magically multi-faceted phylactery. Greeth’s essence remained within that gem, trapped and helpless, but in there nonetheless. Valindra had only begun to understand the true powers of those wondrous gems, and in this one moment of clarity, she considered Dor’crae, who was grounded to this plane of existence through the power of her own skull gem.
She could trap Dor’crae fully with the power of her gem, as Greeth was trapped by his own phylactery. She’d understood that from the first time she’d encountered the disembodied vampire. But if that were true, might she not, therefore, find a way to loosen the other skull gem’s hold on her beloved Arklem Greeth? Free him to possess the corporeal form of another so that he wouldn’t be lost to her any longer?
Valindra’s lies to Szass Tam regarding her desires with the pit fiend had been grounded in some measure of truth, after all. She grinned then at the possibility of putting her beloved Arklem Greeth into such a magnificent corporeal form.
But where was that other gem? It had been in the room, her room, in ruined Illusk beneath Luskan! Yes, she remembered that.
Where had it gone?
A name flashed in her thoughts, that of a particularly resourceful and self-serving dark elf …
All of that flashed through Valindra’s mind in a matter of a living creature’s heartbeat, a brief moment in which all the reasoning she should have been doing for months and years now had coalesced suddenly to create a great stream of possibility.
The lich stared out at the aboleth with awe, reverence, and hope. For even as the ambassador left her, then, it left behind the unspoken promise that it could indeed help her through her plight.
The meeting lasted only a few moments longer, with the servitor assuring Sylora Salm that this was the first of what might be a fruitful alliance. That strange slimy man also took a moment to assure Brother Anthus that the road for him would be long and glorious, and he ended with a smile and knowing nod at Valindra, who had been promised, perhaps, the most of all.
When they left the aboleth’s chamber, Sylora was smiling indeed. “The people of Neverwinter will pay dearly for their partnership with the Netherese,” she said.
“Because you have struck an alliance with …” Valindra paused and tried to figure out how she might speak the aboleth’s name, but quickly gave up on that idea and simply referred to their host as “the Sovereignty ambassador.”
“Informal, but to our mutual gain,” Sylora replied.
“Truly? Then what did you offer in return?”
“To allow the Sovereignty to exist here without our interference,” Sylora replied, and she looked at Valindra curiously.
“They don’t care about our designs here,” Sylora explained. “Unlike the Netherese, our ambitions for dominance do not include dominance over the living. The Sovereignty understands that we can coexist without ever crossing paths, they in the land of the living, us in the realm of the dead. Our friend, Brother Anthus, did well in preparing them for our visit.”
The young monk bowed stiffly and uncomfortably, as was his wont.
“An alliance of convenience,” said Valindra. “My favorite kind.”
“You will meet with the ambassador again. He … it, told me as much,” Anthus remarked.
Valindra nodded and smiled, her eyes flickering with hope.
“And you concur with the … speaker?” Sylora asked.
“He’s the ambassador’s servitor,” Brother Anthus explained. “Anything he says comes straight from the aboleth.”
“He assured me that the aboleth would help me elevate Jestry to become my champion,” Sylora reminded them.
“Then rest assured that it will be a promise fulfilled,” Brother Anthus replied without the slightest hesitation.
Valindra started cackling then with laughter. “It shall be so,” she said in her own voice, between giggles, and she stared long and hard at Anthus.