Session Twenty-Four, Part Three: The Painter's Fate
Let's see...I dropped the rod and the dagger off at Falthar's...and the pages from the spellbook. I hope he can tell me who that wizard was...I guess I should check in with Captain Donnach. It was strange, walking through the doors of the Watch headquarters. Di'Fier looked around him.
I never realized how small and dingy they were. His gaze wandered over the people inside - some new faces, looking at him curiously, and some old, looking at him in shock.
I guess Father didn't tell them I was back.
"Holy sh*t!" Jaffar swore. "Di'Fier! You're alive!" The swarthy constable approached him like he wasn't sure if he'd vanish or not, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You made it back!" His expression abruptly fell. "Now I have to give back the money..."
Di'Fier's eyes widened. "What money?"
"The pool!" Jaffar wailed, and the rest of the room erupted in laghter.
"Haven't you learned not to bet against us
yet?"
Flowers. They lined the walls of the houses in their well-kept ranks, giving the street its name - and those who lived on it the sign of their profession.
Is this what Alust meant? Dru idly pushed the hilt of her rapier upward with her thumb, loosening it in its scabbard. It
could be a trap, after all.
She strode up the walk to a particular house - nondescript, its gardens perhaps lacking a bit for attention - and knocked on the door. She heard the wooden cover slide away from the peephole, the indrawing of breath, and then the door was flung wide.
"Hello, Nilia," Dru said. "Is Kennic here?"
Drusilia,
Do not try to follow me. Us, I should say, as your betrothed has indicated that he will accompany me on my search. I know that it will be the first thing on your mind when you return to Freeport and find us gone, but you must not. If Kennic has given this letter to you, then you are not where I believe you to be, and my search will be fruitless. I pray that this is the case, and we will do everything in our power to return to you if it is so.
I have had my wizards attempt to scry for you, but all have failed. I know of only one place where you might be that their spells would not be able to find you, and it is there that we will search.
Do not fear for me, daughter, for I brought you forth from that place once before, with no help. Do not plague Kennic with questions about my destination, for he knows no more than you do. Instead, let his advice guide you, for he has been by my side for decades. While we have had our disagreements in the past, he has always held your best interests in his heart.
Tensin Naïlo
"How long?" Dru asked.
"More than five months, now," Kennic said sadly. "And no word. He did not expect to be gone this long, that much I know."
"What's happened to the
kesir? Why aren't you in charge? I saw
Finns' men outside it, collecting protection."
"I was left in charge," Kennic said miserably. "It was only to be for a short time, until Tensin returned. But your half-sister played upon her Naïlo blood, gathered some of the younger, more disaffected members to her. Elves, and even half-humans. When she made a play for power, it shattered the organization. Much of the old guard dispersed, to wait for Tensin...or for you."
"Who?"
"The only one I have contact with is Jalin," Kennic told her. "He's kept up with a few others." He shook his head. "I don't know how many can be completely trusted anymore."
"Get Jalin here," Dru said. "I'll need to speak with him when I get back."
Kennic's brow furrowed. "Where are you going?"
"I've got to check on some people. Ones that I
know can be trusted.[/i]"
I wish I could get to the SCU without attracting attention, Di'Fier thought.
They might need my help against whatever's stealing those bodies. Too bad they're so deeply undercover.
The sound of a wolf-whistle from the front room brought Di'Fier out of his reverie. Pulling his boots off of his desk, he leaned forward to see Shesara making her way across the room towards his office.
"Dru wanted me to talk to you..." she began, closing the door.
"Civilization smells awful," Dru griped as she made her way through the sewers. Her feet made no splash as she walked along the slow-moving water. "There's the bars..."
She twisted the sawed bar out of place, slipped through, and replaced it behind her.
Not far now...past the fake secret door...here we are. She slipped through the dark entryway, closing the door behind her.
The sound of a sibilant chant floated up the pasageway.
That can't be right, she thought.
There's too many of them. Silently, she crept forward, easing her way along the side of the wall, her head easing out into the main room of the former temple...
She found herself staring at a scaled chest in mottled black and yellow.
Dru tilted her face upward...and upward more. The light semed to dim as the enormous hood spread from the serpentman's neck, making it seem even more gigantic. Its mouth opened wide, exposing gleaming fangs three inches long. Its tongue licked the air near her.
The creature turned, its voice cutting across the priest's litany, as it announced a single word: "Dru..."
As one, the assembled body of serpentmen dropped to their knees, bowing to her.
Dru surreptitiously wiped the sweat from her forehead as she proceeded into the room. Heading for the robed priest, she said, "What
is all of this? There were only five of you when I left, now there's...a dozen? Who is he?" she demanded, pointing to the enormous black form at the entrance.
"More serve...Yig, and Dru," the priest told her. With a gesture to the oversized guard, he said, "Kreth."
"...I see." Dru looked around. At the front of the room, a block of stone was roughly worked into a statue: as yet featureless, but clearly a woman whose legs were the tail of a snake. Its hands were held above it, supporting the familiar green form of the Jade Serpent of Yig. Around the walls of the room, a mural, dark and strange. Serpent people crawling from the earth, Yig teaching them...their cities and temples rising above the jungle. Strange patterns of light and shadow made half-seen shapes, everpresent, watching. Dru stopped. "Who is
that?"
The pitiful, hunched figure turned to regard her: a man, his hair wild and tangled, his beard the same. He flinched away from her gaze and whimpered.
Behind her, the priest raised one robed arm. "Paint," it said.
The figure nodded, shooting a glance at the massive form of Kreth, watching him dispassionately. "...paint," it agreed plaintively, and turned back to the mural.
"What did you
do to that poor man?"
"Paint walls, like house, for glory of Yig, and Dru."
"You can't just..." Dru searched for the words, but abandoned them as she saw that the priest had no understanding of what she was trying to say anyway. "You're going to let him go, right?" She hesitated, looking back at the shattered figure. "Then again, maybe that's not such a good idea..."
