Flond had cast his spells and left the room. Cygnus slowly trod over to his bed, removed his robes and trousers, and lay down. He pulled the blankets up over his head. Everything seemed so unreal, so devoid of all feeling. Even if they were to finally catch and kill Nodyath, Cygnus knew he would find no joy in it anymore. He knew his friends back in Highport were counting on him. His son was counting on him.
"I wish you were here, Hyzenthlay," Cygnus whispered. He rolled over on his side and hugged the goose down pillow tightly to his chest.
"Is this a sign, All-Father?" Cygnus whispered. "Have I been too prideful, too manipulative? Would you have me change? Or not? What would you have me do? Tell me, and I shall do it. All that I have done, all that I have planned, has come to naught. Please, Lord Odin. Guide me."
No voice answered back.
A new thought now came to Cygnus. Having kidnapped Tad, Nodyath would be sure to read his mind. He might well learn about the contents of the chest. If he were to gain them…
No. That could not be allowed to happen. Cygnus didn't know whether his friends would agree or not, but he couldn't take that chance. In fact, in a matter of this importance, he couldn't trust anyone.
Not even himself.
Moving as silently as possible, the mage got up, donned his clothing again, left his room and descended the stairs.
None of the people or staff in the common room took any notice of the mage. Of Sir Dorbin's party, only Aiclesis was still present. The elf sat at the bar, sullenly downing an ale. He glanced up at Cygnus, who had been about to pass him by without comment on his way towards the Tall Tales Room, but then stopped, as if suddenly struck by an idea.
"Aiclesis?" the mage asked in elven.
"I speak the Common tongue just fine, Cygnus," the thief scowled at him. "Even when drunk, which I hope to be shortly. You don't need to speak elven."
"Actually, yes I do," replied Cygnus. "I don't want anyone around us to be able to understand us. Can you come with me to the Tall Tales Room, please?"
Despite himself, the elf couldn't help but feel curiosity, which in his case had long been his constant companion. He sighed, nodded and slipped off his bar stool to follow the wizard.
Aiclesis watched as Cygnus opened the wooden chest with his key and then began rummaging through it, eventually extracting two items; a large iron flask and a small vial composed of some kind of green glass or crystal. He slipped both flask and bottle into a pocket in his robes, tossed the key inside the chest and locked it again.
"Hey!" exclaimed Aiclesis. "Why did you do that? Now you won't be able to-"
But Cygnus interrupted him with a staying hand. "I need to destroy this chest, Aiclesis. Help me carry it outside where I can fireball it. Out a ways, past Argo's cabin."
Aiclesis stared at the magic-user, his forest green eyes narrowing.
"You're strong enough to carry this chest by yourself, Cygnus. I've seen you. There must be something else you want from me."
"As a matter of fact there is. Grab hold of that end and let's go. And not a word to anyone about what I took out of the chest, Aiclesis. Not to anyone. Ever."
The sound and smoke from the fireball had not yet died away when Sir Dorbin and the others came rushing out of Flond's shelterdome, weapons drawn. Cygnus explained to them that he had decided to destroy the chest, along with all the magic items inside, to prevent Nodyath from obtaining them, much as he had attempted with the gate scroll.
When the knight and the others had departed again, Cygnus looked over to the rogue and held out the green vial to him. "Aiclesis, this is very important. I have to go back to Highport tomorrow with Aslan, but sometime in the future, maybe the very near future, Nodyath is going to come back here. When he does, if I'm here I want you to give this bottle back to me. Don't mention it until then, because I won't have the faintest idea what you'll be talking about. Do you understand?"
Aiclesis nodded slowly as comprehension filled him. "A thought bottle, eh? Torlina's told me about them."
The Aardian wizard nodded. "Another of Venom's little trinkets."
"No wonder there wasn't any good swag in those dungeons," the elf groused. "You swiped it all first." He made no move to make the vial. "Despite everything that we learned today, Cygnus," he said slowly. "About Tovag Baragu and thirty generations passing, I'm still going to try and get back to home to Aarde. We have no way of knowing when Nodyath will make his move. What if I'm not here when he does?"
Cygnus considered that. "Hmm, you're right, Aiclesis." The tall mage then turned to look towards the Brass Dragon. "Change of plan, then. As long as you're here, you make damn sure that our stable boy Noah comes to no harm."
An angry look flashed over Aiclesis' face. "What, I failed to protect one child, so you want to make sure I don't fail again? Why, you-"
"Aiclesis!" Cygnus, who had started to walk towards Aslan's cabin, spun around to face him again. "I'm going to give him the bottle. I'm going to hide that iron flask and then erase my memory of it. Of all of this. That stable boy's going to be the only person besides you who knows about the bottle. Nodyath can read our minds all he likes with that damn helm of his. He won't know that the flask still exists."
"What's in the flask?"
"What may be our only hope of defeating Nodyath, perhaps."
Aiclesis shook his head. "You're still putting that boy at risk, Cygnus. Nodyath will be suspicious if he uncovers his memory of you giving him that bottle."
"I need someone who's always here," Cygnus replied stubbornly. "Our staff changes rapidly, but that boy lives here full-time. He's here even when we're not. I doubt Nodyath will waste time on our staff, anyway. It's us he wants. Me in particular," he finished, grimacing as he remembered Nodyath's earlier assault upon him.
"I'll do what I can," replied Aiclesis, "and now I know why you choose me out of all of Dorbin's band. I'll admit I've got less scruples than the others, but your plan is still-"
"Yeah," Cygnus cut across him. "Manipulative and selfish. I'm sure there's a special place set aside for me in Niflheim."
"Do you understand?" Cygnus repeated to the wide-eyed stableboy, his voice a whisper so as not to awaken Perlial or White Lightning. "As soon as I put my memories in this bottle, I won't remember any of this. You have to take this and hide it, and only return it to me when Nodyath is about to attack!"
"Yes, Master Cygnus," the boy replied quietly. He looked at the bottle as if it were a viper, but then squared his shoulders. "I won't fail you."
"Good boy." The wizard straightened up and held the bottle up close to his face. He then glanced back down at the youth and his features softened.
"If I'm cross or rude to you in any way when you come to me," the tall mage said softly, "I apologize, boy. Just make sure you make me take this bottle back."
The boy gulped but answered in a squeaky voice. "Yes, sir."
Cygnus then uttered something the boy did not understand and tipped the bottle to his forehead. The stableboy gasped as he saw what looked like a thin vapor pour out of Cygnus' forehead and into the flask.
The wizard's face suddenly went blank and he swayed on the spot. The bottle fell from his fingers, but the boy caught it and stood staring at his employer.
What the-
Cygnus glanced around him in confusion. He was in the Brass Dragon's stables! How in the Nine Hells had he come to be here? The last thing he remembered was lying on his cot, praying to Lord Odin.
Their stable boy, Noah, was bending over some straw, but now he straightened up and looked at the mage. "Master Cygnus?" he asked. "Are you all right? You seemed to be sleepwalking, sir, but I dared not awaken you."
Cygnus frowned. He hadn't sleepwalked since he was a lad of no more than ten or eleven, no more than this boy's age. Still, here he was, with no memory of walking here, so he must have done so.
He gave a brief nod at the boy and strode out of the stables, heading around to the front of the inn. Sir Menn, holding a bottle of wine, was coming out as he reached the doors. The knight gave a guilty start.
"Just to help me sleep!" he protested, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Please don't do to me what you did to that chest of yours!"
Menn's laugh was that of a drunkard, devoid of real mirth. With a slight stagger, the knight moved off towards the shelterdome while Cygnus stared after him in astonishment.
A faint whiff of burnt wood reached his nostrils. The mage turned to see the barest hint of smoke rising from a point a hundred yards off or so.
Had he fireballed their chest? It was something he had considered doing, to keep the treasures within out of Nodyath's hands, but he had no memory of doing so.
Was it possible to cast a spell in one's sleep?
Cygnus felt exhausted, drained. He was too tired to deal with this now, and he needed to get back to bed. His friends were still back in Highport; still in terrible danger.
He slowly ascended the stairs and returned to his room.
13h Day of Ready'reat, 565 CY
The Brass Dragon Inn, Furyondy
Well, Cygnus thought. Now I know.
The mage sat there for a while, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Then he looked up, seeming to stare into empty space for a minute or so.
Then he rose to his feet, stretched and went downstairs to fetch a spade.
HYZENTHLAY
Beloved of Cygnus
From Death, Life
Cygnus stared at the tombstone that marked the memory of his wife, if not her actual body. He did not cry outwardly; his eyes felt too dry and sore for tears. But he could feel the sorrow welling up anew within him. A liquid sadness that felt like it could, and perhaps would, one day rise up and drown him from within.
He gripped the spade tightly and began digging at a spot just past where Aslan's dog Mirage lay buried.
He didn't know how long he'd been digging before he realized it had started snowing.
Large white flakes drifted lazily downward and dotted the hard soil and dying grasses underfoot. There was no wind. It was almost unnaturally silent.
Cygnus continued to dig. The ground was cold enough for a thin layer of permafrost to have formed, but Cygnus' wiry frame threw his strength into every stroke of the shovel, down and away, down and away.
And then he heard the clink of metal striking metal.
Cygnus held the iron flask in his hand, his expression grim.
Not only did the flask itself contain a great evil, but the wizard had to wonder again just how far he had one to safeguard that evil. Trusts abused; friends deceived. Again and again.
An image of Aiclesis. The rogue had died in a fireball. The same spell which Cygnus had used to destroy the chest had ended the thief's life. He had taken Cygnus' secret to the grave.
How many will take your secrets to their grave, Cygnus? How many will your secrets carry there?
He tried to shake the bitter thought. Looked up into the grey sky, growing darker now. Feeling more than seeing the snowflakes land upon his face. Their coolness was refreshing. He let himself bask in the moment, trying to let the snow cover the thoughts of his own treachery like a white tarp over a shallow grave.
The voice of Aslan coming up towards him from behind jolted him back to reality.
"Cygnus," the paladin was saying. "A scout just arrived from the Earldom of Farlyow. I couldn't get specifics of individuals, but a mounted force at least two dozen strong is heading this way. They might be here as soon as tomorrow. We need to be making-"
Aslan stopped. Cygnus had swung around to face him, forgetting all about the flask in his hand.
The paladin stared at it for what seemed to Cygnus to be a very long time. When he looked up at the magic-user, Aslan's face seemed to hold the same feeling of sadness that Cygnus had on staring at Hyzenthlay's tombstone. The same sense of mourning.
"Cygnus," he whispered, and then stopped, apparently unable to say more.
The mage stepped up and squeezed the paladin's shoulder. "Come on, Aslan," he said, trying desperately to sound as if everything was all right. "We need to get ready."
Aslan bit his lip and then shrugged wearily.
"Yeah," the paladin said. "We need to get ready. You never know when or from where the forces of evil will strike next."