Chapter 17 - Part 9

Pellhomno rubbed his arms as a cold wind came up, but Meschashmal did not seem to notice. The massive blue dragon was frowning and clicking his tongue against his teeth. The centaur had always found that particular habit interesting, because Meschashmal really was not aware that he did it, despite the ozone smell that it created.

“You have to head to Varna,” Meschashmal finally said. “Our other work has been lapsing.”

“Thank you,” Pellhomno said in relief.

“What, you thought I’d tell you to enter the Wastes?” Meschashmal asked. “My dear Pellhomno, it would kill you.”

“That had entered my mind,” the centaur said dryly. “Do you want me to resume the regular monitoring of traffic in Varna, or am I looking for something specific?” The centaur hoped he would not be told to deal with the Vadalis people again. That House seemed to think centaurs were just another species of animal to be exploited economically.

“Contact a woman of Medani who takes a room at the tavern by the north end of town,” Meschashmal finally said. “She meets with all sorts of individuals, so you shouldn’t attract too much attention. She isn’t an agent of the Chamber but she is friendly to us. Keep an ear out for any more military activity directed by the Mosaic Committee, and watch for signs of the Prophecy and its enemies.”

“When will you contact me next?” Pellhomno asked.

Meschashmal sighed. “Bad enough that I am on Khorvaire so long, Pellhomno, now I have a rigidly doctrinaire bugbear to track. A bugbear that we know has some antagonism to the three, but still may be the fourth. We know so little about that.” The dragon lapsed into silence, except for clicking his tongue against his teeth.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Pellhomno finally dared to say.

Meschashmal stopped clicking his tongue and gave the centaur a sad look. “Our insufficient knowledge forces my hand, Pellhomno. I must track the bugbear into the land of my ancient enemies to make sure that the Prophecy comes to the proper fruition. I will not likely return alive.”

The centaur held back tears. “Maybe you won’t be noticed,” he said lamely.

Meschashmal laughed. “Oh, I will be there long enough so that I will be noticed, and they will eventually stop fighting each other and come after me. The fiends and the dragons are blood enemies, there is no quarter. No, I go to my death, but the Prophecy is more important to my life.” The dragon jumped into the sky and spread his wings. “Keep an ear out for unusual doings in Trolanport,” he called down.

“Why?” Pellhomno asked.

“I do not know,” Meschashmal said. “Fare you well, Pellhomno, you have been a good and faithful servant!” The great blue then turned and flew north, gaining altitude quickly.

Pellhomno swallowed back his emotions, then turned and galloped south.