The Crimson Gold

by Voronica Whitney-Robinson

  From somewhere deep within the bowels of the Citadel, howls and screams slowly rose in volume until the cacophony momentarily drowned out all other sound within the chamber. Tazi pressed her hands against her ears.

  But the noise did relent and fade until the only sound in the room was a deep, rumbling laughter. Tazi looked to Naglatha, but it was not her. As Tazi realized the Red Wizard’s hold over her was almost gone, she twisted at her torso to see where the sound came from. As soon as she turned to the table, Tazi could see that all the wizards faced Pyras, who was now rising to his feet.

  Gone was his sickly pallor and demeanor. He continued to laugh deeply, and a smile formed on his full, fleshy lips. No one seemed more surprised by the turn of events than Naglatha herself. As he straightened himself, Tazi rubbed at her eyes, temporarily disorientated by the vestiges of Naglatha’s spells, because she thought he appeared to be growing as he stood. But then Tazi realized that was exactly the case.

  Pyras knocked back his cushioned chair and spread his arms forth. The muscles bulged and inflated along his arms, and at the same times, claws stabbed through the tharchion’s former fingernails. With a tearing sound, his robes gave way as he reached a height of almost fifteen feet. Tazi could see his skin darken from its former pale flesh color to red and black. And his skin appeared to harden and split into a series of plates that more closely resembled armor than flesh. He dropped his head forward and screamed. Tazi watched, horror-struck and fascinated at the same time, as the skin on his face seemed to melt and run forward to accommodate the muzzle that sprouted out from the center of his skull. He threw back his head, and Tazi could hear flesh splitting and tearing. Great horns speared their way through his scalp and twisted above him, and a pair of giant, insectlike wings opened up from his back.

  As the creature regarded the others in the room with his red-slitted yellow eyes, he flexed those monstrous wings behind him. Tazi saw some of the other wizards scramble backward, and one or two actually fled. Naglatha, however, was transfixed with wonder—but also surprise—as though this was not her doing.

  Tazi turned to the lich and she saw something akin to recognition on his skeletal visage.

  “Eltab!” he hissed.

  The towering fiend laughed again and pulled back his lips in what Tazi supposed was a smile, though it looked more like a monstrous grimace.

  “Yesss …” the demon hissed at Szass Tam. “It is me once again.”

  Tazi turned to the lich and could see surprise play across his skeletal features, which was difficult to do.

  “Did you think I was truly gone?” the tanar’ri lord mocked him.

  “My spell of Twin Burning—” Szass Tam began.

  “It was incomplete, old man. You failed.” And the creature flexed his great wings again, spanning the length of the table, reveling in his physical freedom.

  Tazi, now completely free of Naglatha’s power, drew her sword. She heard the dwarf snort. He was actually laughing at her and the sorry picture she presented. But he had freed his war axe as well. They stood ready though no one in the hall moved an inch. Somewhere deep in the corridors below, the screaming started up again, and the ground began to shake once more. Yet everyone was mesmerized by the tableau in front of them.

  “You sought to bind me, that is true,” the demon admitted. “But you made a crucial error in your ritual. You tried to close the gate on me, but you were sloppy, and left it open just a crack. And that was all I needed.” He laughed again.

  “Oh, it took time. But that was something I had. You understand that, don’t you, dead man?” he looked at the lich, but Szass Tam remained silent. “I was weak after you tore me free from my prison under Eltabbar, and that was the only reason you were able to paralyze me with your Death Moon Orb and bind me to your Throne. But you weren’t strong enough to make it last, though you thought you had.

  “As I sat there, I reached out with my powers, knowing there existed a way to escape. Granted, I couldn’t go far, but I didn’t need to, did I? I found what I needed easily enough under your roof.”

  Tazi looked from the lich to the tanar’ri lord and wondered why neither struck the other. Or why no other wizard, including Naglatha, made a move to flee or fight. However, Tazi found she was just as spellbound as the others by the demon-king and wondered if that was somehow his doing.

  “You kept your young puppet here, always under your wing, under your watchful eye,” he explained in his ancient voice, referring to Pyras. “You needed him because of his weakness. So did I.”

  “Where is he?” demanded the lich, and Tazi doubted the necromancer truly cared about the fate of his minion. The tanar’ri lord only smiled more.

  “Over the years of my entrapment, I sent my energies over to him. Slowly, oh so slowly, so no one would know. And you helped me grow strong, Szass Tam. You kept this vessel,” he paused to tap his chest with a heavy claw, “so safe and so protected from harm. Even you must appreciate the irony in all of that. And all this time I have been waiting and watching and planning,” the demon-king finished and the ground rumbled again.

  “Now I am free,” he cried amidst the howls from below and jumped onto the table in a low crouch. “And I shall have my revenge against you all,” he warned them and swung an accusing claw at the gathered Red Wizards. “Just like your predecessors who called me forth on that windswept hill so long ago, here you all gather again—awaiting my return.”

  Tazi was briefly distracted from Eltab’s monologue when she saw Naglatha sway and nearly fall. The woman looked truly frightened and calm at the same moment, like someone caught up in a dream or a nightmare.

  “I was the instrument of Thay’s birth, and I shall be the instrument of its death. From deep within the bowels of the Thaymount, my numbers have grown and are now released. With them at my side and with the power from the core of Thay itself under my control, I shall decimate this land and bury its people. From its very heart, I will strike you all down.”

  With that, the tanar’ri lord sprang from the table and took flight. His massive wings struck the chandelier suspended above the ceiling and ripped it free of its moorings. The massive circle of wood and metal fell with a crash, splitting the table down its length. Zulkirs Zaphyll and Lallara barely escaped being crushed by it though Zaphyll caught part of her robes under the broken remains of the chandelier. As she tore herself free, her amulet must have been wrenched off in the process, for Tazi watched as the young woman turned to a withered crone before her very eyes. She screamed and covered her face with her shriveled hands. Lallara wore a look of disgust and horror at her friend’s transformation, but she pulled the old woman’s arm around her shoulder and helped her hobble from the room nonetheless. They did not return.

  Tazi turned back and saw the demon-king circle the room once, and she held her sword at the ready though she didn’t believe it would do much good. She also noted that the dwarf stood at the ready as well, and she smiled grimly at him. The drafts of wind from Eltab’s beating wings knocked several torches free, and they fell like rain. Tazi dodged to her left to avoid one that dropped with a thud to the stone floor. But others were not so lucky.

  Tharchion Dmitra Flass, a woman that Naglatha had referred to as the First Princess of Thay, was too busy staring at the circling tanar’ri to notice the torch that fell near her. She was laden with jewelry and ostentatiously clothed with robe upon robe layered on her person. Because of that, she didn’t immediately realize the torch had ignited one of her garments. When she did, she let loose with a high, piercing scream and began to run frantically around the chamber, unintentionally feeding the flames. Tazi tore her green eyes away from the beast at the sound of the woman’s painful cries and saw no one moved to help her.

  “Dark and empty!” Tazi spat and sheathed her sword. She turned and ripped a tapestry that had so far escaped the flames free from the wall and threw it over the tharchion when she passed by. Tazi covered her completely with the heavy fabric, smothering most of th
e flames with the cloth and her body as they rolled about on the cold, stone floor. She batted the length of the woman’s body and rolled her over many times, despite the Red Wizard’s feeble cries of protest. When Tazi was sure she had doused the flames, she pulled the tapestry far enough open to see Dmitra Flass’s burned face. Tazi winced at what she saw.

  Dmitra had been heavily adorned with earrings and necklaces, both draped around her neck and around her forehead like a series of crowns. The warmth from the flames had heated those metal objects until they were white hot. They had burned through the woman’s flesh to varying degrees, some only leaving a few red lines and blisters, others charring her flesh an angry red and more ominous gray. Now she bore tattoos of a different sort, Tazi mused. A touch on her shoulder brought Tazi back to the reality of the chamber. Tharchion Azhir Kren was crouched over them. “Let me,” she told Tazi, and she bent over the injured Red Wizard. Azhir was the only one who had offered to help, and Tazi was impressed amidst the destruction that someone else actually gave a damn.

  “Hush,” she soothed the burned Dmitra and scooped her up easily in her arms.

  “Is—is it bad?” Tazi heard the woman croak out between coughs.

  “I’ve seen much worse on the battlefield,” Azhir crooned to her. “We’ll get it taken care of, and your husband will never even notice.” And she carried her from the smoke-filled room.

  Tazi picked herself up in time to see Eltab make one last pass around the chamber and shoot through the entryway with his wings tucked close against his body like the swallows that nested around Stormweather Towers did when they dived.

  In an instant, he was gone.

  Chaos reigned in the now-destroyed council room. Tapestries were burning from every wall and what furniture remained was also aflame. A heavy black smoke began to fill the chamber and Tazi noticed, between coughs, that the room did not have the ingenious ventilation system that the metal shop did.

  Of course, the council chamber was not supposed to be on fire.

  Tazi turned and saw Red Wizards running about and a memory flashed in her mind’s eye. She remembered a boat that caught fire once in Selgaunt Bay years past. She had watched from the dock as every last vermin had scuttled from their hiding holes to escape the smoke and flames. They had squealed and clawed each other in a frantic dash to throw themselves into the frigid waters, only to drown. She couldn’t help but think of that image now in the flaming chamber.

  The quakes came closer together and grew in intensity. To her left, she saw Heraclos and Milos, both relatively unscathed, each grab Naglatha by an arm. With them as human shields, Tazi saw her former owner scurry across the chamber without a backward glance for the destruction she had helped loose on the land.

  Wizards ran in every direction, most desperately searching for an escape from the acrid stench of smoke and seared flesh, dodging the chunks of ceiling that rained down on them all. Tazi searched for Justikar. When she finally spotted the duergar, he didn’t see her. He appeared to be unharmed and was crouched low near the doorway where the demon-king had fled. Tazi was about to call out to him and realized it was not her place to stop him. He had failed to find his brother, and with Naglatha gone, she saw no reason for him to stay behind. She silently wished him good fortune. But the gray dwarf held his position and swung his axe in his hands a few times as though weighing something heavily. Finally, he swung it and cracked a part of the doorway with the force of the blow.

  “Damn!” she heard him swear and watched as he then turned back into the room. She smiled in spite of herself.

  Tazi saw that most of the wizards fled the chamber with a few, notable exceptions. The lich, Szass Tam, stood as still as a statue while the room crumbled about him. Though he remained in his skeletal form, Tazi was once more struck by a sense of dignity as she watched him float a few feet above the ground, unaffected by the tremors. To her left, Lauzoril, Aznar Thrul and Nevron remained behind, somewhat singed but not too worse for wear. And Tazi saw that Azhir Kren, no longer burdened with the injured Dmitra, trotted back into the chamber to take inventory of the situation.

  Tazi realized that at least these few cared enough about Thay, whatever their reasons, not to flee the scene of the crime.

  The word “crime” echoed in her head. Tazi was at least partially, if not wholly, to blame for what had transpired in the room and for whatever horrors had been let loose. She shook her head and coughed into her arm. Realizing that they were all standing around like sheep that had no shepherd, Tazi spoke out.

  “We need to get outside,” she shouted to Szass Tam, knowing that the others would at least follow his direction. “There must be a window or something nearby because I can feel the draft against my skin. Where is it?” she choked out.

  Szass Tam turned to her and fixed her with his burning gaze. For a moment, Tazi felt fear well up inside, threatening to consume her. But she knew now was not the time to succumb to such feelings. She bit back down on that fear and held her ground. The lich almost smiled at her.

  “This way,” he told her and pointed to a corridor nestled under the burning tatters of a tapestry.

  Tazi nodded to Justikar who stood to her right. She pushed past the others and ran through the nearly black room to the burning tapestry. Without breaking her stride, she jumped through the flaming fabric, with her arms protectively in front of her face. The duergar trailed behind her, followed by the remaining Red Wizards.

  The corridor opened up onto a large, stone balcony, and from it, Tazi could see that they were several thousand feet up in one of the peaks of the Thaymount. Straight below her was a dizzying drop.

  Dusk was at hand—the sun only fiery ball at the horizon’s edge, tinting the sooty glaciers red. Tazi was somewhat disorientated because with the artificial light within the Citadel, she had lost track of real time. She gripped the rock banister as another tremor nearly tumbled her to her knees.

  Then the first of the explosions began. Tazi turned to the volcanic mountains in awe. She watched as one after another of the peaks of the Thaymount began to erupt, spewing fire and rock across the range like an unholy storm.

  She stood there, a hail of ash falling around her like the first snowfall of winter. By that time, the others had caught up to her, and they were frozen in their tracks at the armageddon unfolding before them. Tazi hardly noticed when the lich glided up next to her, but she couldn’t miss his frozen voice.

  “And are you well pleased, lady?” he demanded of her.

  “What?” she asked and turned to look up at his threadbare skull. There was no feeling of fear this time.

  “Naglatha did not do this alone,” he explained. “I know she had your help. Are you pleased with all you’ve done?” he asked again.

  “I had no choice,” Tazi replied and hated that she had to defend herself to the necromancer. “I had my reasons.”

  The lich nodded benevolently. “I hope so, woman, for look what you have wrought on my land. Consequences,” he added, “there are consequences to every action. Now see yours.”

  Tazi refused to meet his accusing glare and turned back to view the destruction. As another eruption shook the balcony, the mountains started to disgorge molten flows of lava, red and gold. From several of the peaks, the burning magma began its inexorable path down the slopes like a deadly tide. She could see that there was nothing to stop its flow save for the villages and towns in its lethal path. And that was not the end of it.

  Tazi watched as, first from one tunnel and the next, unspeakable horrors began to pour out of every crevice in the Thaymount. Like a row of ants leaving their mound, the line of creatures seemed unending. Demons of all shapes and sizes crawled out of the ancient tunnels. Twisted versions of darkenbeasts took to the skies and even albino creatures that had never seen the light of day cautiously clambered out. Their numbers seemed immeasurable. High up on the balcony, there was a sense of unreality as though they were removed from the danger, but another quake reminded the spectators t
hat they were every bit as vulnerable as the unknowing masses below on the Escarpment.

  “There must be thousands upon thousands,” Tazi breathed.

  “Perhaps we can make it down below and warn the others to flee while they can,” offered Aznar Thrul, who was sweating profusely, though not from the overwhelming heat.

  “You mean flee so you can escape,” Lauzoril corrected him harshly. “Always thinking of yourself, aren’t you?”

  So much for alliances, Tazi thought as the two traded insults.

  “There might be a way to stop the demon,” Nevron offered. “There might be a way to bind him again.” Tazi recalled that he was the wizard Naglatha had said had an interest in demon spells. She turned to regard him more closely.

  “Leave off,” Azhir shouted at him, the image of unbridled fury. “Magic got us into this, but it will take an army to stop those monstrosities. Don’t you agree, Szass Tam?” she asked the lich, searching for support. The necromancer, however, remained impassive.

  The Red Wizards launched into a tirade amongst themselves as to who had the better plan, seemingly oblivious to the rain of fire. Tazi listened for a moment then exploded at their bickering.

  “Shut up!” she screamed. With ash falling around her and lava bombs streaking the sky behind her, she commanded their attention like a raging angel.

  “Even in the midst of this—” she gestured with one gauntlet-covered hand to the hell behind her—“you cannot work together? Your land will die if you do nothing!