The Sentinels Read online

  Neither was the fire, though. The fog had quenched it completely.

  “And so another one dies,” Asbeel taunted.

  “You know what the difference is between you and me?” I asked.

  “There are oh so many! Age, prowess, wisdom, take your pick.”

  “It’s much simpler than that,” I said. “I can walk.”

  I rushed forward in a suicidal charge, swinging my sword wildly.

  Asbeel blocked my first swing and my second, but on my third, he missed the parry.

  Perrault’s magical saber dug deep into his shoulder. I pressed with all my might, forcing the demon and his weakened leg over backward. He fell hard to the deck, his sword slipping from his grasp, over the rail, and into the water below.

  I withdrew my blade, lining up the killing blow. Asbeel grabbed it with his bare hands, wincing in agony as the blue flame burned his flesh.

  “What do you fear the most, child?” he whispered.

  “Not you.”

  “No. You fear the loss of something.”

  I glanced at Joen, only for a heartbeat, but Asbeel saw it.

  “Exactly,” he said, and he let go.

  My sword drove into his chest, through his heart, and out his back.

  The demon gasped in pain. “She lied to you,” he whispered.

  “You’ve all done nothing but lie to me,” I spat.

  “My sister. She lied. The ritual is in two parts. If one bearer kills his Sentinel …”

  I twisted the blade, and Asbeel writhed. “Done,” I said.

  “Then, the other Sentinel kills …” His words trailed off, his eyes went dark.

  It took me a moment to register his words—a moment I didn’t have.

  “Joen!” I cried, turning to face her. The magical cage had fallen away, and she was smiling at me.

  Jaide’s magical staff was swinging for the back of her head.

  And Joen had no idea.

  The staff struck her hard, the dull crack echoing across the water. Joen fell limp, tumbling over the rail into the rushing river.

  I ran across the deck to the rail, still holding my bloody sword. But the water was pitch black, and I could see nothing.

  “Joen!” I called. “Where are you! Answer me, please!”

  “She’s gone,” Jaide said softly.

  I turned on her, bringing my sword up. “You lied to me,” I snarled.

  She nodded.

  I rushed in to attack and she didn’t defend herself. With hardly a thought, I plunged my sword into her chest. As with Asbeel, I drove Perrault’s sword through her heart and out her back.

  Asbeel had been Perrault’s sworn enemy, had killed the great bard. Jaide had been his friend, had helped protect him—and me.

  But she was a liar and a murderer. I withdrew my sword, and she tumbled to the deck. I drove it in again.

  “I am sorry,” she whispered. “But you are free now.”

  Her eyes closed for the last time.

  I slumped to the deck beside her. The stone, still in its sash, rolled across the deck to me.

  Free, yes. But broken too.

  EPILOGUE

  THE SENTINELS

  “A terrible woe that be,” the pirate captain said. “And I see why ye didn’t want ter tell us tha’ end. But tell me, young man, aren’t ye glad ye got it off yer chest?”

  I managed a smile past the moisture in my eyes. Yes, it had hurt, but it had felt good too.

  “How long has it been since?” he asked.

  “Two long years,” I said. “And until you took it from me when you took me captive, I carried the stone still.

  To remind me of what I lost.”

  The pirate captain nodded. “So, will ye reconsider me offer?” he said.

  I shook my head no.

  “Aye, I thought not. But either way, ye’ll be needing this back.” He held out his arm, extending the torn leather sash that still cradled the Stone of Tymora.

  “No,” I said through the lump in my throat. “I won’t. It’s not magical anymore.”

  “Funny,” he said. “I got me a couple wizards on me crew, an’ they looked at it good, an’ they tell me it still be powerful magic.”

  I shrugged and said, “Maybe some residual …”

  “See, they also say this one’s magic too.” He withdrew a small black object from his pocket and rolled it to me.

  The Stone of Beshaba.

  “Where did you get that?” I asked.

  A female voice spoke up from behind me, from the entrance to the cave. “He got it from me.”

  I turned to face her. Her blonde hair, freshly cut, bounced across her shoulders, and her broad smile lit the beach around her. Her emerald eyes, wet around the rims, bored into me.

  Joen.

  I rose unsteadily to my feet as she approached, slowly at first, then all in a rush. She wrapped her arms around me in a great bear hug.

  “How … I thought …,” I stammered, searching for something to say.

  She brought her finger to my lips to silence me. I stopped talking, stopped even trying, and just looked at her.

  She leaned in close, moved her finger out of the way just long enough to plant a quick kiss on my lips. Then she tipped her head, indicating the pirates behind me.

  I turned to look and saw that the pirates were kneeling before her.

  “A good yarn indeed,” the pirate captain said to Joen. “You were right as a’ways, me queen.”

  “You’re qu—?” I started.

  “That’s a whole other story,” Joen said. “It’ll take a while in the telling.”

  I looked around at the gathered pirates, the island beach, the predawn light breaking over the horizon. I laughed at the thought that this, here, was home—a home that Joen had brought me to.

  “I’ve got time,” I said. “And freedom.”

  About the Authors

  R.A. Salvatore is the author of forty novels and more than a dozen New York Times best sellers, including The Pirate King which debuted at #3 on The New York Times best seller list.

  Geno Salvatore has collaborated on several R.A. Salvatore projects including Fast Forward Games’ R.A. Salvatore’s The DemonWars Campaign Setting and R.A. Salvatore’s The DemonWars Player’s Guide. He co-authored R.A. Salvatore’s DemonWars Prologue, a DemonWars short story that appeared in the comic book published by Devil’s Due Publishing. He is a recent graduate of Boston University and lives in Massachusetts.