Part 26 (2/2)
”You have been following me,” he said.
”You couldn't know that,” he said, looking at Lain incredulously.
”Do you deny it?” Lain asked.
”No, but you couldn't know that. Steps were taken . . . unless. You felt it, didn't you? That bizarre sensitivity to being watched. I'd forgotten about that,” Desmeres realized.
”Why are you here?” he demanded.
”Look at me, Lain. If it isn't obvious, I have been remiss in my duties,” he said.
Lain drew to mind what he had seen earlier, but kept his eyes locked on those of Desmeres. The half-elf knew him better that any other creature in this world, and at the moment it was not clear that he could be trusted any longer. Aside from the immaculate armor, he recalled a familiar s.h.i.+eld had been hanging from his side, and a more familiar hilt protruded from his sheath. A sword hung, in its sheath, from his belt. It was the sword. The one that had begun this crusade. He was dressed precisely as the fallen swordsman in the field had been, the one he had found and watched Myranda approach. The one that had sealed her fate.
”Why would you pretend to be chosen?” he asked.
”Misdirection. Adding a dash of truth to a cauldron of lies,” he replied. ”A highly effective tactic.”
”To what end?” Lain asked, patience wearing thin.
”To aid my new partners, of course,” he said.
Lain's hand went to the grip of one of the stolen daggers.
”Then you have become a tool of the D'karon,” he said.
”Surely it doesn't come as a surprise to you. Wasn't it to be expected? It takes the D'karon - indeed, the entirety of the Alliance Army under their control - to equal the skill and opportunities afforded by yourself as an individual. I approached them and offered my services. Doing so without being killed proved an interesting task. They were quite open to the idea, once my allegiance was established. Another challenge, might I add, but one I rose to. They eventually embraced my presence. All save Trigorah. Still bears a bit of a grudge I am afraid. They have her on a rather short leash, however. She's been removed from active duty and confined to the capital. Odd. Regardless. I shared with them a few choice pieces of information, and proposed the idea of posing as a Chosen. I would appear to be on the side of the Alliance, thus making the public less likely to believe that the true Chosen might be opposed. In addition, it was believed that by appearing to be a genuine Chosen One, my presence might flush out the rest of you,” he explained.
”Why follow me?” Lain asked.
”Why would they accept me into their fold if not to find you?” he asked.
Lain drew his weapon and placed the blade against Desmeres' throat.
”And tell me. What is it that you intend to do, now that I am found?” he asked.
”Very little,” he answered.
”Why should I believe you?” Lain asked.
”One would hope that years of partners.h.i.+p and familiarity would be enough,” Desmeres offered with a weak smile.
The blade pressed harder.
”You aren't worth enough, Lain,” he added.
Lain twisted the blade slightly.
”I am serious. They have no interest in only one or two of you. And they certainly don't want you killed. They were spa.r.s.e on the details, but they want no less than four of you, five if possible, and simultaneously. And under no circ.u.mstances must any of you be killed!” Desmeres said urgently.
Lain removed the blade.
”Why?” he asked.
”They wouldn't tell me. All that they did was give me the names and descriptions of who to watch for,” he said, rubbing his throat. ”You, of course. They know a great deal about you. They also targeted the shape s.h.i.+fter, and something they called 'The Fourth,' another malthrope. She was with you. And I suspect the shape s.h.i.+fter as well. Conspicuously absent is Myranda. If you were to ask me, I'd say their plan is to take on the full force of the Chosen as a whole. I can't imagine why.”
”Tell me why I shouldn't kill you,” Lain said.
”I could refer to the aforementioned years of partners.h.i.+p, but more convincing is the fact that I have the ability to feed disinformation to your many enemies within the Alliance Army. They gave me an object through which I am told to keep them updated on my actions. I recently informed them that I would be checking this town for you. It might be useful to you if I were to report that I had found nothing and was moving on. Less useful would be a missing followup that might indicate the need for closer inspection,” he warned.
Lain considered the statement.
”I can't say I know what they have planned for you. Having been in their clutches before, I imagine you know what to expect. One would a.s.sume another capture would result in more of the same for both yourself and the others,” he added.
”How have you been following me? How is it that I was unable to detect you?” Lain demanded.
”The D'karon mystics have a number of rather unique specialties. Most wizards concerned with stealth deal exclusively with attempted invisibility. The odd eccentric has tinkered with rendering one's motions silent. Once accepted into their cloister, I found volumes of runes and enchantments dedicated to rendering one undetectable to all senses. Vision, smell, even senses I have never heard of. Indeed, senses I cannot fathom. And the crystals, Lain. The possibilities they afford,” Desmeres gushed enthusiastically. ”They are truly inspiring. I have been able to infuse your weapons with pa.s.sive defenses, but these crystals can fuel active, aggressive spells. And the techniques they have can produce weapons so quickly. This sword is a replica of the masterpiece the swordsman had carried. I managed it in days. Not weeks, days! I have got a few blades in the works . . . it pains me to be away from them. Revolutionary. One in particular belongs in no hands but your own, Lain. When it is complete, you shall have it. No one else could do it justice. It is the pinnacle of my art, Lain. I don't care if it finds its way to my throat a heartbeat after it reaches your grasp. This is a blade worthy to taste my blood.”
”Enough! How did you follow me?” Lain asked.
”Intuition. Familiarity. A secret or two I choose not to reveal,” he replied.
Lain's eyes fell to his neck. Then back to his eyes.
”Very well,” Lain said, taking a step away.
”Wait,” Desmeres said.
Lain lingered just at the edge of a shadow.
”How did you break my sword?” he asked.
”It failed me in battle,” he replied.
”Was it broken by another sword?” Desmeres asked, almost desperate for the answer.
Lain stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.
”It was broken by the hand of another Chosen,” he said.
Lain slipped fully into the darkness.
”The Chosen . . . it took the sp.a.w.n of the G.o.ds themselves to break it . . . I can accept that. Very well. But listen. Do not let that pretender, Flinn, charge you a copper for what he will do to that sword. The techniques he will steal from it will make him rich enough without charging a fee as well,” he said.
His request fell upon an empty darkness, but he knew Lain had heard it. He walked slowly back into the stable. As he did, he felt for something around his neck, finally pulling forward his chest plate to glance at where it had been. The tooth he had taken from Myranda, Lain's tooth, should have been hanging around his neck. It and the spell she had brought back were largely responsible for allowing him to track Lain so quickly. Realizing what had happened, he chuckled and shook his head.
”He certainly hasn't lost a step,” he said, readying his horse to move on.
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