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.Then he took up his staff and made his way over the broken terrain of gemstones to the Citadel of White Exile.When the companions had passed through the door, and Dragonbait had pushed past Alias to scout ahead, he had left Hill Cleaver still in her grasp.Without a weapon, the swordswoman was only a human of soft flesh and toolusing hands, while the saurial felt quite confident with his claws and powerful jaws.The passages were lighted by the stones of the wall, which shone from within—a benefit of the citadel's position.Akabar was reminded of the light that had come from behind the elven wall that had imprisoned the Abomination of Moander, but these walls glowed with a rosy light that gave them all a ruddy hue.Thev passed through one chamber, then another.Both had held some furniture, but recently had been stripped bare.The dust on the floor was disturbed as though several heavy objects had been dragged across it.The small prints of the pseudo-halfling crossed the rooms, as well as a set of large, heavier boots, nearly giant size.They came to a pair of doors made of crystal that, like the the walls, glowed from within.The doors opened at a touch.A large hall lay beyond.Dragonbait froze upon entering the room.It was not arranged the way it had been more than a month ago when he'd been dragged through it.There had been a long feasting table, and the walls had been covered with banners of some of the Realms' older nations.The table and banners were gone, replaced by twelve biers.Each funeral stand was occupied by a body.Alias's first guess was that the citadel's new inhabitants had turned this room into a morgue, or maybe even a meat locker.Dragonbait, already standing in the center of the room, spun about in obvious confusion.A brimstone stench emanated from his body."Brandobas's Beard!" Olive exclaimed, already near enough to see what useful things might be left on the corpses."They're you!"Uneasily, Alias walked closer to the bodies.They were all as similar as a batch of bowls a potter might throw in a day.Each face had the same features, some were thinner some wider, but they all had her features.Each face was framed with hair some shade of red, from reddish black to strawberry blonde.Their skin tones covered the spectrum from the pale flesh of the north to the swarthy complexions of the south.Their dress was more varied.A body in the heavy armor of Mulhorand lay beside one in wolfhide robes and the headpiece of the far north.The sultry slitted dress of a Waterdeep courtesan—something perhaps from Cassana's closet—adorned a body one bier over from another dressed in the conservative robes of a Moonshae druid.A weapon lay beside each, a mace or sword or sickle or dagger.One figure, wrapped in black, was equipped with eastern weapons whose uses were unfamiliar to Alias.Yet thev were all her.Earlier models? Alias wondered.Then she shook her head grimly.No, later improvements.How foolish to think that they would stop at just one.A few minutes ago, when she'd thought herself unique, she'd been certain she could prove her worth, justify her own existence.But what if she was just one of a pack, a herd of Aliases to be unleashed on the unsuspecting worlds?She forced herself to stand closer to one of the bodies— one dressed as a cleric of Tymora in robes of white trimmed with blue, with her holy symbol—a silver disk—hanging on a chain about her neck.Alias fought back the queasiness in her stomach and touched the body, grabbing the right wrist and turning it to reveal the underside of the arm.The pattern of serpents and waves was there, as motionless as a tattoo placed on a piece of dead flesh.The only sigil in the pattern was the bull's eve of Phalse's master.There was no blank spot at the wrist for Nameless.The flesh was clammy, like clay.Akabar came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder."Dead?" he asked."Dead," she echoed, "or at least not alive.Or less alive than me." She shook with anger."This is all I was to them.A thing to be copied over and over.""Easy now," Akabar said, squeezing her shoulder gently."They're no more like you than a painting of you would be.If you want, we can destroy them.""No!" Alias snapped."Whatever they are, I will not see them destroyed.They're no more.evil than I am.I'm going to kill the last master and lay them to rest that way."Akabar stood silent for a moment, then nodded."As you wish."Alias could tell he was trying to determine if her reaction was a natural one or another pattern, like her obsession to reach Yulash had been.Olive shook her head, disapproving of Akabar's tone.Just like a mage.Thinking too much with the head, not enough with the heart
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