Free Conspiracy by J. Robert King Page B

down.
    The stair went black. Chaos. Blunt blows. Panicked roar.
    And down.
    A great roar came from behind the paladins, from the very palace of the mage-king. The battle stilled for a moment as every eye lifted skyward. Stars were suddenly falling from the heavens. Huge chunks of firmament whistled down in a terrific rain.
    “The Day of Tyr,” gasped Miltiades, breathless. “The end of time. The Coming of Justice.” Suddenly oblivious to the foes before him, he dropped to one knee.
    The other paladins did likewise. Their heads bowed down just as a massive boulder of masoned stone
    bounced over them and struck the gaping fiends below. The rock splattered the first few beasts. Then it rolled down the stairs, grinding demons to grist.
    “Do you see?” Miltiades cried, elated. ” ‘And my hammer shall smite the nations of darkness and grind them into bitter meal.’”
    The bowed heads lifted, just in time for them all to witness the next onslaught. A massive flood vaulted over them. It bore in its churning belly the twisted, broken bodies of more fiends. They soared by overhead in a cascade of blood and water.
    ” ‘And I shall cast them down from on high, as the blacksmith casts down the burrs of iron that cling to his new-forged hammer. They shall fall from the heavens on this, my day, that all peoples of every land will know that the hammer of justice descends.’ ” As Miltiades spoke these words, a spray of water and blood swept over them. The bodies of fiends plunged down all around.
    Kern cried out, “How could we have doubted you, Tyr? How could we have listened to the profanities of a tentacled beast instead of the precepts of justice?” He turned to the silver warrior. “There is no Fallen Temple. There is only the True Temple—only we, the faithful of Tyr! Let us rescue Eidola, and save Doegan!”
    The ground trembled.
    The skies split open.
    The rain of fiends faltered and ceased.
    The wheels of Tyr’s chariot roared thunder.
    Kern and Miltiades turned toward the sound, toward the coming of Tyr in glory. What they saw was not Tyr, though, but his enormous, bleeding apotheosis.
    Aetheric III dragged himself up from the broken dome of his palace. His hands seized and smashed turrets. His tentacles coiled and recoiled in slug paths of steaming slime. His throat, so long filled with poison, roared.
    “Doegan, behold your god!”

Chapter 9
Conspiracy
    Noph awoke in the dark palace dungeon. He slouched against a wall of stone, water covering him to his chest. He could smell the sullen ash of doused torches, and could hear the gentle drip of wet ceilings. He saw little. The only light in the place sifted faintly down from the spiral stairs at either end of the corridor.
    “Ingrar?” he muttered stupidly. His voice was raw. Coughing spastically, Noph spat out salty foam. “Is anyone else alive down here?”
    A woman’s voice came from a nearby cell. “Who’s there? Who is it?”
    More water rattled in Noph’s lungs. “Who are you?”
    “I am Eidola Neverwinter,” said the woman.
    Noph struggled to his feet. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” He steadied himself on a wall, then lumbered along the flooded corridor. “I’ve got to find a key.” He dragged the toe of his boot, searching for—
    With a splash, he tripped atop a guard’s body. Noph struggled to one side and felt for a ring of keys. Finding it, he ripped it free from the man’s belt.
    “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
    Noph reached the cell door where he had heard the voice and started fitting key after key into the slot. His hands jangled excitedly.
    The lady is within. I will rescue her, he thought. Another voice stirred in the back of his mind. What if Entreri is right? What if she is an agent of the Unseen? What if she is a monster?
    A key clicked. The cell door swung open. Noph gulped and stepped into the breach. With an effort he quashed his doubts. Surely the paladins were right. Surely Khelben would not have given them this