Read Online Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 5 - The Cerulean Storm by Troy Denning - Free Book Online
Authors: Troy Denning
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three-dimensional body as tall as that of a
half-giant. It stepped toward Cybrian and Lady Laaj, who defiantly remained standing on
their podiums.
“Your tricks won't fool us.” Cybrian looked past the shadow to Sadira. “You won't win your
way with a simple illusion.”
“The Black is no illusion!” hissed the shadow giant, stretching a hand out to each of the
pair.
Recognizing the voice as that of the chief of the shadow people, Sadira stepped after the
dark being. “Khidar, leave them alone.”
“You are not the one who asked me to take them,” the shadow replied.
Khidar wrapped his sinuous fingers over the pair's skulls. As their faces disappeared into
darkness, the wrab took wing and disappeared into its shadowy lair. Cybrian screamed, then
Lady Laaj, their voices harmonizing into a single pained, fearful howl.
Sadira grabbed the arm holding the noblewoman. The shadow giant's flesh felt misty and
cold, and holding it was like trying to grasp water. Still, the sorceress came closer to
touching it than most beings, and when she pulled, tendrils of the arm came away in her
hand. The black filaments evaporated into the air, vanishing like a dawn mist in the
morning sun.
Khidar's murky substance continued to swallow the templar and noblewoman, slipping over
their shoulders, then down their wildly thrashing arms. Finally, the shadow consumed even
their hips and legs, and they were gone.
For all of her magical powers, Sadira was helpless to stop the shadow giant. Casting a
spell against him would have been useless, like trying to pierce the sun with a ray of
light, and she knew better than to try. If she accomplished anything, it would only be to
enrage Khidar to the point where he attacked more councilors.
Instead, the sorceress looked toward the ceiling. Though she could not see Wyan, she had
no doubt that he was still up there in the murk. “This accomplishes nothing, Wyan. An army
coerced into fighting is an army of slaves,” she said. “You know that neither Rikus,
Neeva, nor I will have anything to do with that.”
“Then let the council vote,” Wyan countered. “They can do it here, or in the Black.”
“Why bother?” demanded Charl Birkett. He stepped onto the floor and crossed to Sadira.
“You and your friends have the power to take the legion, whether we like it or not-but I
won't lend my name to a sham.” The guildsman spat on the sorceress's sandaled feet and
turned toward the exit.
Khidar blocked his path. “The council has not voted,” said the shadow giant.
Charl glanced over his shoulder and glared at Sadira. 'Tell this thing to stand aside."
“I had no respect for Lady Laaj or Cybrian, true, but this is not my doing,” Sadira said.
“You saw me try to stop him.”
“I saw you pretend to try,” the guildsman retorted. “Do not take me for a fool.”
Charl tried to step past Khidar. The shadow giant raised a hand to stop him. Sadira lashed
out, closing her powerful fingers around the guildsman's shoulder, and pulled him back.
She shoved him roughly toward the gallery seats, drawing a murmur of angry comments from
the other advisors.
“I suggest you vote.” The sorceress looked at Khidar, knowing that by now Lady Laaj and
Cybrian would be half-frozen with the cold of the Black. “And do it now.”
Without taking his narrowed eyes off her face, Charl growled, “All those who think we
should give our legion to Sadira?”
“Aye,” came the response.
Though the chorus was far from deafening, Charl said, “The motion carries. Now can we
leave?”
Sadira glanced up at the ceiling. “Are you happy?”
Wyan came down out of the shadowy alcoves just far enough to be seen. “Your duties are
finished, Khidar.”
“What of the noblewoman and the templar?” the shadow giant asked.
“Keep them,” Wyan sneered. “They'll serve as an example to those who cross me.”
“As you
half-giant. It stepped toward Cybrian and Lady Laaj, who defiantly remained standing on
their podiums.
“Your tricks won't fool us.” Cybrian looked past the shadow to Sadira. “You won't win your
way with a simple illusion.”
“The Black is no illusion!” hissed the shadow giant, stretching a hand out to each of the
pair.
Recognizing the voice as that of the chief of the shadow people, Sadira stepped after the
dark being. “Khidar, leave them alone.”
“You are not the one who asked me to take them,” the shadow replied.
Khidar wrapped his sinuous fingers over the pair's skulls. As their faces disappeared into
darkness, the wrab took wing and disappeared into its shadowy lair. Cybrian screamed, then
Lady Laaj, their voices harmonizing into a single pained, fearful howl.
Sadira grabbed the arm holding the noblewoman. The shadow giant's flesh felt misty and
cold, and holding it was like trying to grasp water. Still, the sorceress came closer to
touching it than most beings, and when she pulled, tendrils of the arm came away in her
hand. The black filaments evaporated into the air, vanishing like a dawn mist in the
morning sun.
Khidar's murky substance continued to swallow the templar and noblewoman, slipping over
their shoulders, then down their wildly thrashing arms. Finally, the shadow consumed even
their hips and legs, and they were gone.
For all of her magical powers, Sadira was helpless to stop the shadow giant. Casting a
spell against him would have been useless, like trying to pierce the sun with a ray of
light, and she knew better than to try. If she accomplished anything, it would only be to
enrage Khidar to the point where he attacked more councilors.
Instead, the sorceress looked toward the ceiling. Though she could not see Wyan, she had
no doubt that he was still up there in the murk. “This accomplishes nothing, Wyan. An army
coerced into fighting is an army of slaves,” she said. “You know that neither Rikus,
Neeva, nor I will have anything to do with that.”
“Then let the council vote,” Wyan countered. “They can do it here, or in the Black.”
“Why bother?” demanded Charl Birkett. He stepped onto the floor and crossed to Sadira.
“You and your friends have the power to take the legion, whether we like it or not-but I
won't lend my name to a sham.” The guildsman spat on the sorceress's sandaled feet and
turned toward the exit.
Khidar blocked his path. “The council has not voted,” said the shadow giant.
Charl glanced over his shoulder and glared at Sadira. 'Tell this thing to stand aside."
“I had no respect for Lady Laaj or Cybrian, true, but this is not my doing,” Sadira said.
“You saw me try to stop him.”
“I saw you pretend to try,” the guildsman retorted. “Do not take me for a fool.”
Charl tried to step past Khidar. The shadow giant raised a hand to stop him. Sadira lashed
out, closing her powerful fingers around the guildsman's shoulder, and pulled him back.
She shoved him roughly toward the gallery seats, drawing a murmur of angry comments from
the other advisors.
“I suggest you vote.” The sorceress looked at Khidar, knowing that by now Lady Laaj and
Cybrian would be half-frozen with the cold of the Black. “And do it now.”
Without taking his narrowed eyes off her face, Charl growled, “All those who think we
should give our legion to Sadira?”
“Aye,” came the response.
Though the chorus was far from deafening, Charl said, “The motion carries. Now can we
leave?”
Sadira glanced up at the ceiling. “Are you happy?”
Wyan came down out of the shadowy alcoves just far enough to be seen. “Your duties are
finished, Khidar.”
“What of the noblewoman and the templar?” the shadow giant asked.
“Keep them,” Wyan sneered. “They'll serve as an example to those who cross me.”
“As you
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