And below, in the macabre chamber where he held court, the gargoyle king summoned his other followers. The dead that were not dead, the unliving that were living-they came to him with a horrid eagerness. Rotted garments clinging to desiccated bodies, the smell of ancient decay clinging to them, they gathered. For so very long, they had been tormented shadows, but that day marked the long-awaited reward for their suffering.
My dear friends, the shrouded figure proclaimed. My dear, loyal and trusting friends, you who gave so much are soon to breathe, soon to have your hearts pulsing again. You will know love where you only know envy; you will once more feel sated where you know only eternal hunger.
From out of every dark corner, the shambling forms emerged. Although they in truth numbered only several dozen, their intensity made it feel as if a thousand stood listening. Corpses they might look like, but a hint of the power that they once had yielded was still evident in their ghastly presence.
The gargoyle king had been seated for the departure of his winged subjects, but he stood and bowed to those who served him.
I promised you that if you gave me all that you were, we would see our triumph … I promised that if you kept me fresh, I would keep you from death long enough … I have kept that promise. The Fire Rose will soon be in my grip, and we shall see all that we loved reborn with it.
The rotting figures knelt as one. Although they had no lungs or tongues with which to speak, a wind seemed to rise up from among them; it whispered a single name.
Xiryn, it called. Xiryn …
Their leader nodded in gratitude. Xiryn reached up to touch the cloth that bound the lower half of his countenance. As he did, he continued speaking.
The decay will be reversed … It will be as if these past travesties of life had never been. History itself will be reversed through the Fire Rose.
The skeletal figures clapped their bony hands together, creating a clatter. Over and over, the wind whispered Xiryn’s name throughout the ancient edifice.
The traitors will have failed at last, and we shall see our world come alive again and ourselves made whole.
Xiryn pulled down the cloth, revealing his face. The lower half was decaying. There was still enough to recognize individual features, but it was also possible to identify the people to which Xiryn-and, thus, the ghastly throng-belonged.
He no longer had lips, but that did not matter, for when Xiryn spoke, his mouth did not move. Ages past, the decay ever so slowly eating through him had taken his physical voice away. Xiryn spoke through magic and magic alone.
Perfection is returned to us, he called to his loyal court. Raising his arms high, the gargoyle king added, The day of the High Ogre is upon Krynn again.
VIII
It was an unusual gathering of the Titans, taking place in the chamber where the Black Talon alone always met. Generally, few outside of the Black Talon were summoned there. Yet Safrag had commanded that all should attend.
To the rest, that surely meant they were finally to have their chance to wield the Fire Rose. It had been a struggle for some to keep their tongues, Kulgrath especially, but it appeared that their patience was at last to be rewarded.
With the exception of Morgada, the rest of the inner circle was already seated and awaiting Safrag. The lone female Titan stood next to the empty, high-backed chair as if awaiting not only her teacher, but her lover as well. Kulgrath shielded his distaste from her view, sharing it instead with a slightly anxious Gadjul and two others among the Talon.
The rest of the assembled Titans stood facing the tall platform upon which the Black Talon members were seated around a table. In the center of the chamber, where the symbol of the inner circle covered the stone floor, sorcerers suddenly fled from a black whirlwind arising among them. Gadjul half rose, stopping only when Kulgrath stilled him with a warning hand.
The whirlwind swiftly grew, its tip touching the ceiling. Yet just as quickly, it diminished, shrinking to nothing in the space of a single breath.
And in its wake it left the fiery figure of Safrag, the Titan leader, holding in his right hand the artifact that was coveted by the gathered sorcerers.
“I am glad to see all of you here,” he proclaimed as he gazed at the assembly.
“The master summoned,” Morgada replied subserviently. “How could any dare keep away?”
“We’ve been eager to hear from you,” Kulgrath added politely but not at all subserviently.
Safrag nodded then vanished. He reappeared in the chair, the Fire Rose still held reverently in his hand. Morgada smiled in his direction then took her seat next to him.
One of the Titans gathered before the Black Talon dared step forward. Bowing low, his expression humble, Falstoch murmured, “And what wisdom will Safrag impart unto us now? Has he determined how best we should wield the artifact?”
Safrag smiled like a father to Falstoch. “Yes, I have made a final determination.”
Silence reigned over the Titans.
The lead sorcerer slowly rose. He held up the Fire Rose, which suddenly glowed brighter. Safrag let its haunting light wash over his companions, who moved toward it almost like moths to the flame.
“‘Sirrion’s Blessing,’” he began, using one of the other names for the artifact, “is a willful and powerful thing. A steady hand and a steady mind are needed at all times to command it. Further, in order to see that the transformations are to the best of our desires, they should be done under considerable guidance.”
The rest of the Titans nodded. Safrag’s pointed explanation showed how carefully he had studied the Fire Rose’s mercurial and dangerous nature. With that knowledge, the sorcerers could surely begin planning its use.
“Therefore,” Safrag continued, his smile gracious, “for the foreseeable future, I will continue to retain absolute control over it.”
There were gasps of protest. Some of the Titans started forward. Kulgrath rose from his seat and glared, shaking off Gadjul’s tugging on his arm.
Ignoring the clear objection to his decree, the lead sorcerer went on. “And in order to facilitate matters most simply, I and the Fire Rose will remain in the capital in the great temple that I have just this day used the artifact to erect. As the one most properly capable of wielding the Fire Rose, I will take each suggestion by all of you under careful consideration and, if judged a fit proposition, will carry it out myself.”
“Are we to understand that we’re not going to be permitted to use the Fire Rose at all?” Kulgrath blurted.
Although Gadjul shrank back, Draug, one of Kulgrath’s other allies in the Talon, added his voice. “It was agreed on from the start that the artifact would belong to the Titans as a whole, with the Black Talon overseeing the situation.”
“But that was before I determined how dangerous such a course would be. Already, the avarice is clear in the eyes of too many of you. That is why I must take such actions.”
“There is more avarice staring back at us than comes from all our eyes together,” Kulgrath angrily retorted.
“We are not the ones so possessed by it,” Draug offered.
Morgada pressed back against her seat. Her expression was guarded. Among the Titans watching the spectacle from the floor, Falstoch stepped forward and thrust a taloned finger in Kulgrath’s direction.
“Safrag is the wisest among us! If he states that he must keep the Fire Rose to protect us from ourselves, then so be it!”