“Who was it?”
“Another clerk. Man name of Ammes. He just walked into the squad room and told us you’d ordered every man to the gate.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead,” said the guardsman. “He was one of those trying to seize the South Palace Gate, and he died during the fighting.”
Dash nodded, making a mental note to make sure no palace servant or functionary stayed in place without a thorough investigation. The period when the Prince had resided in Darkmoor and Dash had overseen the transition from Duko’s rule to Patrick’s return had been too lax. Malar and other agents had easily insinuated themselves into the palace.
Which also meant Kesh had plans for this offensive long before the truce at Darkmoor last year.
Dash kept his rage bottled up, his frustration and anger at Trina’s death and the assault on the city. He vowed that should Keshians come over the wall, he would personally kill more of the enemy than any man defending the city.
And should the city endure, he would see that his promise to Trina was not made in vain.
They landed in a clearing a few miles from the city. Pug staggered as he got off the dragon’s back and sat down on the grass.
Miranda sat next to her husband and said, “Are you all right?”
Pug said, “My mind is still swimming.”
Tomas said, “Where to next?”
“Many places,” said Nakor. “And not all of us together.” To Tomas he said, “Why don’t you have your friend fly you home to your wife? There is still much work to be done, but you can return home knowing you’ve saved Elvandar and its inhabitants from problems for the near future.”
“I would like to hear a few things first,” said Tomas.
“Yes,” said Miranda. “What was that creature?”
“I have no knowledge of anything like him,” said Tomas. “And the memories I inherited from Ashen-Shugar are extensive.”
“That’s because no Valheru ever encountered anything like Zaltais,” said Nakor, sitting on the grass next to Pug.
“Mostly because he was not a creature.”
“Not a creature?” asked Miranda. “Could you attempt to just explain without the usual convolution?”
Nakor smiled. “Right now you remind me of your mother, the good parts.”
“There were good parts?” said Miranda with thinly veiled contempt.
In the most wistful tone anyone had ever heard from him, Nakor said, “Yes, there were, once, a very long time ago.”
“What about Zaltais?” asked Pug.
“Fadawah was lured to practicing dark magic by his advisor, Kahil,” Nakor said. “I think Kahil has been behind everything that went on in Novindus from the start. He was a dupe, a tool of the Pantathians, who somehow managed a degree of freedom, and he used that to create a position for himself, one where he could manipulate others . . .” He hesitated, then continued, “The same way Jorma became Lady Clovis and controlled the Overlord and Dahakon. years ago. Kahil was at Fadawah’s side from the start. He avoided destruction and continued to advise and . . . well, I suspect he convinced Fadawah to turn to the very powers that destroyed the Emerald Queen and the Demon King. He served that power we do not speak of, and like most of the Nameless One’s minions, he did not even know who he served . . . he was just driven.”
“Zaltais?” prodded Miranda. “What did you mean when you said he wasn’t a creature?”
“He was not of this reality, more so than the demons or even the dread. He was a thing from the Seventh Circle of Hell.”
“But what was he?” asked Pug.
“He was a thought, probably a dream.”
“A thought?” asked Tomas.
Pug said, “And when I looked into the rift?”
“You saw the mind of a God.”
“I don’t understand,” said Pug.
Nakor patted him on the shoulder. “You will in a few hundred years. For now, consider that a God slept and as he slept he dreamed, and in that dream he fancied some tiny creature spoke his name and in doing so became his tool. In that dream that tool created havoc and called to him and he sent his Angel of Despair to answer the call. And the Angel served the tool.”
“Why couldn’t Zaltais be killed?” asked Miranda.
Nakor smiled. “You can’t kill a dream, Miranda. Even an evil dream. You can only send it back to where it came from.”
Tomas touched his lip. “That dream seemed concrete enough to me.”
“Oh,” said Nakor, “a God’s dream is reality.”
Pug said, “We should go.”
“Where?” asked Miranda. “Back to the island?”
“No,” said Nakor. “We should tell the Prince the leadership of the enemy is dead.”
“Krondor, then,” said Pug.
“One thing, though,” said Miranda.
“What?” asked Nakor.
“You mentioned some time ago that the demon Jakan replaced Mother at the head of that army, but you never Nakor said, “Your mother is dead.”
“Are you certain?” asked Miranda.
Nakor nodded. “Very certain.”