Free The Diamond by J. Robert King Page A

said gently, “Take a moment. Gather your thoughts.”
     
    Miltiades took one swallow and set his cup aside. “I led the group seeking Eidola. We pursued her
    from the dungeon beneath the palace of Aetheric III, even, as I’m told by Kastonoph, as the squid
    lord struggled in his death throes.”
     
    The young man nodded confirmation, brushing the crumbs of a biscuit from his lips.
     
    “He’s also told me you know of your bride’s true nature. Is this correct?” Miltiades asked stiffly.
     
    Piergeiron winced. “Tell me again, so all is out in the open.”
     
    “Well, this comes as no surprise to the Lord Mage or your daughter,” Miltiades said heavily. “Your
    supposed bride was in truth a greater doppelganger, an agent of the Unseen who aimed to rule
    Waterdeep not only from your bed, but through your mind. She’d been created, I know not how,
    in the image of your dead wife, Shaleen, and empowered, through subtle magics, to take hold of
    your mind. I am not surprised her abduction sent you into a coma, so powerful was her hold on
    you. I’m only surprised it didn’t kill you.”
     
    “It did kill me,” Piergeiron corrected. “I descended into death to follow her
    to bring her back.”
    He set down his teacup, gaze suddenly distant. “She was no illusion. I pursued someone real,
    powerful, brilliant and true. The presence I found there flung me out of death, back into life. That
    was no doppelganger.”
     
    “Ah, yes,” Miltiades replied. “In any case, Eidola was among the most powerful weapons of the
    Unseen, a creature meant to spread their influence throughout Faerűn. There must be others such
    as her about.”
     
    “In fact, through your efforts and my own, their ranks have been thinned in the past month,”
    Khelben noted. “Aleena and I have been doing more than brewing tea.”
     
    Miltiades gave the Lord Mage a dark look. “I’d like to know why you two waited so long. Aleena
    told me you both knew the truth about Eidola before the wedding. Why didn’t you stop her then?”
     
    “She was a fine piece of work,” Khelben replied. “Dangerous, yes, but less so than those who
    created her. If we’d destroyed Eidola, her creators would have made another creature to infiltrate
    the palace, and done a better job of it. We needed her alive to trace her makers, which I’ve
     
    done.” There was unmistakable finality in his voice.
     
    The Lord Mage set down his teacup and added, “Until then I’d fitted her with a girdle of
    righteousness, binding her actions.”
     
    “I—ahem—am the one who removed the belt in the mage-king’s dungeon,” Noph volunteered,
    redness creeping up his neck. “I thought it was a
    that is, she implied
    er, I still thought she was
    a woman of honor, you see, and what more ignominious torment is there for such a one as
    well,
    a chastity belt?”
     
    Eyebrows lifted around the room. Hiding a smile, Khelben came to Noph’s rescue. “Another
    decision that turned out to be right. By removing the belt, you revealed at last what Eidola really
    was and almost lost your life demonstrating it. The belt had served its purpose by then; once
    Eidola was abducted, I hired an assassin to track her down in the Utter East and kill her. The best
    such blade in all Faerűn.”
     
    “Too bad he failed,” Miltiades said disdainfully.
     
    Khelben shrugged. “No matter; he’s dead. And where he failed, you succeeded. You ended up
    killing the woman you were sworn to rescue.”
     
    “Yes,” Miltiades replied, despite himself. Scowling, he reached into a bag at his belt, and drew
    forth the slender hand of a woman, severed mid-forearm. It was rigid, bleached of all color, and
    clutched a gigantic diamond.
     
    Sudden stillness governed the room. Miltiades bore the hand to the Open Lord’s bedside. “Eidola is
    well and truly dead. I brought this back as proof. We’ve not been able, by means muscular or
    magical, to tear the gem from her grasp. The gem