by Gary Gygax
"As you yourself stated, those who do not assist, hinder. Should we then pay heed to threats of enmity? Active opposition? You speak of folly, but the Empyreal Realm now basks in that very stuff, as you and your pack of stooges evidence," Gord said angrily. "You have narrow interpretations and misplaced values in this regard. Save for our action, you and all of the beings of Light would now be facing Tharizdun and his swarming hordes of netherlings, risen here to destroy you, the higher spheres, and impose Evil everywhere.
"You prate of cosmic consequences, but in all the multiverse there is but one appointed to the duty of opposing the scion of darkness. You know I am that one, yet you care more for your own concepts than for the ultimate fate of the cosmos you pretend to defend. Narrow, distorted, and mistaken. All truth does not rest with you.
"We have but one course now, and we will carry through with it. Away with you, all of you!" As he said the last words Gord drew forth the two portions of the relic, holding them upright before him, so that they were plainly visible as badges of his intent. Then he willed himself and his two comrades ahead, directly toward the devas.
At that the full population of the beings manifested itself. Elemental devas, aethereal and astral too there were, totalling eighty-four ready to serve the celestial beings, the planetary devas. Those twelve great beings, in turn, stood ready to fulfill the bidding of the three empyreal devas. those of solarian form.
But if the first were large, the next gigantic, and the stellar devas of titan size, the one which materialized to bring the assemblage to its full one hundred was so awesome as to defy description. The nine and ninety others bowed as the greatest of them appeared directly before the three humans.
"There is no evil in tour purpose," it said simply. "I will guide you to your destination."
"But.. ." Gord managed to stammer.
The archdeva was suddenly diminished, transforming itself to a size that was commensurate with the stature of the folk who floated there in the airless plane. "these others were but one last test — the final one prior to that which is to come. I regret the necessity, gord the champion. this too was prescribed, beyond my authority to alter. know now that your trials in the netherworld were sufficient opposition. No physical resistance is posed here."
"The threat was made," Gellor suggested.
"In truth," the being agreed, "we did make the test real. conviction and courage both were tried here, and neither was found lacking in you three. That is finished. The time to move onward is now. Follow."
With the celestial warriors escorting them, Gord, Leda, and the bard traveled onward through the near infinity of the Celestial Sphere. At last they exited that glorious realm, passing onward into another that was even more incredible.
"We have moved higher," the archdeva informed the three when they paused in awe. "We now enter the exalted place of pure color and fire, the Empyreal Sphere. Because I am of this plane, our passage will be swift."
"And then?" Gord managed to inquire.
"We shall see," the archdeva said. "what is beyond here is for you to assess and cope with as you may. MY abiltiy to assist ends with the culmination of the passage here."
Eventually the three and their majestic escort of devas traversed the wondrous place of light, and flame and hue gave way to growing colorlessness. In the distance grew a wall of pale stuff that appeared as would cliffs to wayfarers trekking across a vast plain. Still the entourage pressed on, and their way took them up something like a road that wound through great mountains. The onyxlike strata of milky white and glowing gray that composed the mountainous formation through which they traveled grew paler still as they went, until finally it was almost colorless where the path topped the range at a place like a mountain pass.
"This is the border of the empyreal sphere. Yon beyond is the place you seek. fare well!" Gord turned to say something to the great deva, but it and all the rest were gone.
"At least we were given swift and safe passage," he said with some small degree of confusion.
"The upper realms are an enigma, to my way of thinking." Leda said with a frown. "First we are made to feel as if we were malign and in peril, then those same beings serve as a noble train to see to our welfare, and then they vanish! Compared with these, even the workings of demons are more straightforward and understandable!"
"Be thankful we didn't have to oppose the devas," Gellor told her. "I am confident that we could have forced them to abandon their opposition, but we would have paid dearly to defeat such as them."
"What place is this, anyway?" Leda inquired practically. "The guide never told us."
The roadway went on before them, twisting and turning upward after crossing a ridgelike spine whose sheer sides disappeared into a misty chasm, so that the pathway crossed the chasm as a bridge spans a vast river. "I can make out something there amidst the clouds," Gord offered, pointing outward to where the road led.
"It looks to be a castle of pearl!" Leda was excited by the beauty she beheld. "See? Its walls seem to grow from the very mountain, and its spires are thrust into the clouds above!"
The analogy was in very mundane terms, but it was apt There was no other way to describe the fortress. It seemed the epitome of the faiiy castle. In fact it was apparently a structure of ivory and pearl, silver and opal too. Smooth wall and soaring buttress, thick tower and high turret top, all were of white and delicate appearance. "It is passing strange that the greatest evil ever known is therein," Gord commented. "Let's see this castle firsthand."
It required actual walking to gain their destination. No power other than their own legs could carry them there, though all three attempted arcane means and magic. When such attempts proved to be of no avail, the three proceeded afoot, and after a strenuous climb came to the gatehouse of the snowy fortress. The latter was apt also, for it was chill, and there was ice over all. Everywhere they looked they saw silver and gold. The castle was beautiful, preciously adorned — and frozen. The path ended at the outwork. No road crossed from the gatehouse to the great fortress itself. Between the two was a mist-filled space at least fifty paces across.
"The gates of this outpost and those of the castle proper stand wide. What means that?"
"I couldn't say for certain, Gellor, except to think aloud. Not many could have come to this locale, so perhaps the gates are but decoration."
Leda shook her head. "I think that what we see is outside reality as we define it. I submit that we see here a great castle because that is the way our minds interpret the place. We are bound to enter, so there are no gates barring our entry, no portcullis."
"Nobody said the way would be easy," Gellor laughed. "This is your hypothesis, so let's move to the sticking point. Where is the bridge to span the gap?"
"Old jester," Leda said with feigned irritation. "I am not the sage of this group. You have frost there on your thatch. Give us your wisdom!"
The exchange was certainly one last attempt to relieve the anxiety of what faced all three, but Gord was no longer in a frame of mind to deal with things thus. "Leave off, Leda and Gellor. No more flippancy. Give me silence! Don't you realize what lies before me? What I must do?" He stared at his comrades, and they looked away. Gord was abashed. "Forgive me — that was uncalled for. My entire being is full of dread, so if I am short of good humor, and sharp-tongued, please understand."
"Of course," his friends said in unison. Both were as much on edge as he was, and the desire to somehow make the way easier had brought on the mock levity. "I am with you to the end," Gellor said. "No word you utter now offends or hinders our comradeship." Leda did not need to say anything, for the bond between her and Gord was sufficient.
"I think I understand. . . ." The young champion was staring into space, his fingers idly playing over the twisted surface of Unbinder. "It is that no creature was ever meant to come here, let alone enter. Don't you see? If ever the three fractions of the relic were united, made into one whole, then the imprisoned one would be set free. Perhap
s Tharizdun would have no need of a bridge, or possibly there is a way from inside to cause one to appear. No matter. The Theorparts provide our means of access."
"How so?"
"Here, Leda. Take the sword, for Courflamme will interfere with the work. And Gellor, seeing as you asked how. I think you should have charge of Unbinder's weight in this process. I need to be unencumbered when I attempt the separation of the remainder."
"How can that be done?" Leda sounded uncertain. "Are not all three meant to fuse into a single key?"
"Only elsewhere. Here. I think, each is an entity unto itself again." She had the scabbard belted around her tiny waist by then, and Gellor had taken the malign shape that was known as Unbinder firmly in his hands, so Gord was free to make his attempt. "Watch . . . and wish me success."
Concentrating on the space before them, the young champion called upon Initiator, first of the keys, to manifest itself. The metal shape he held forth as he did so suddenly shimmered and fractured, becoming two distinct parts again. Gord caught Awakener in his left hand even as the other Theorpart suddenly sprang free from his right. It shot like an arrow, straight across the chasm, but it grew longer and broader as it went. Then it was across, and with a resounding bang fused to become an arching bridge of quicksilver.
"Well, if one can trust such mercurial stuff, we can now proceed to the castle," Gord drawled.
"I have no relic to hazard," Leda volunteered. "I shall lead." Before there was time to object, the dainty elf put her feet upon the span. "This stuff feels uncertain underfoot, and the going is heavy, but I find it otherwise unremarkable," Leda called after a dozen steps. "As soon as I near the end, let Gellor follow."
Gord wanted to reprimand her presumption, scold Leda for risking herself in the first place, but he kept his mouth shut. After all, the three of them were committed to this undertaking, and until the end it made no difference which of them served as leader. Then again, it seemed that she was acting with inspired correctness. He was not the only one who had insights. As the sword was formed of dark and light to achieve Balance, it seemed that Leda and he were almost a whole in this venture, with Gellor as the stuff that held them together in crisis. Then he stopped his musings, for Leda had arrived at the gateway into the great fortress, and the bard was beginning his passage over the strange bridge. Gord noticed that it seemed to shift and give a little at his comrade's steady tread, but run it did not. Quicksilver apparently, but not quicksilver.
"Your turn, Gord," Leda called as Gellor reached her side. "Hurry!"
Without answering, he stepped onto the span and walked along its arching incline. The surface yielded slightly to his foot, but it seemed solid otherwise. At the apex of the arch, something caught his eye. There was a silvery glint of another nature there, something small lying atop the mercurial bridge. Gord paused, bent, and studied the thing. It was a silver-hued ring set with a perfect diamond. Hesitating only an instant, Gord picked up the ring and went on to join his friends.
"Shall we explore inside?"
"Not easily, Gord. This passage is filled floor to celling with ice as clear as air — but hard as diamond!" Gellor rapped his Theorpart against the stuff to demonstrate his observation. The ice, if ice it truly was, gave off a crystalline ringing from the blow.
"What have you found?" Leda asked, having noticed him pick something up on the bridge.
"Here," Gord said distractedly, handing the small elven girl the ring. "You care for it. This blockage is another of the tests, I suppose, Gellor. Let us see what the second of the fractions can do, ah? It would be natural for Vitalizer to dismiss this life-stopping ice."
"You mean Awakener?"
"Call it what you will. There is no true appellation for any of these things, save what we have surmised is needed to release the captive. What do you suppose will occur when we reach the cell wherein Tharizdun lies? No need then for these things, I wager!"
"I wasn't contradicting — "
"Let it be," Leda said to the bard. "Our hero will have his own way, else he will lash us with his tongue till we name him nuncle."
"Now you cease, girl," Gellor chided. "We are all as ill-tempered as badgers. What happens, comrade, if you opt for the wrong key, as it were?"
"I don't think any of us would survive to find out."
"Why not Unbinder, then? Aren't these ways ice bound?"
"A worthy reasoning, Gellor." Gord paused. "Hmmm. Now you make me unsure. . . ."
Leda suggested that he hold fast to each to see if there was a clue hidden within the Theorparts. Gord agreed, but neither portion of the relic felt right or wrong. He had her touch them, but there was no better result. "Now, Gellor, you tiy," urged the dark elf.
As if on a whim, the troubador touched both simultaneously. He froze in the act, as immobile as if he himself had become ice. It lasted only for an instant however. Releasing his hands, Gellor spoke in a sweet, clear voice that was unquestionably not his own. "He was right to counsel you to caution, champion. It is the portion you name Unbinder which must free this place of its choking ice."
Gord stared first at Gellor. His expression was blank Then he looked questionlngly at Leda. "Dare we listen? That must be . . can be none other than . ."
"Tharizdun," Gellor supplied, speaking again in his own gruff voice.
"And? Tell us, bard, was the intrusion meant to deceive?"
"Leda, I am unable to say," he replied, looking from her worried face to Gord's own. "Yet there seemed no malice or cunning. I was aware of another there in my mind — just for the instant it took to relay the advice you heard. Then the presence was gone!"
Gord took the relic from where it rested on the pale marble of the threshold. "I will rely upon my instincts in this matter, then." It was Unbinder's peculiar shape he used, not that of Awakener. "Come, ancient artifact of imprisoning, loose the icy mirror which blockades these halls and rooms!"
"The thing glows red!" Gellor exclaimed. Indeed, the Theorpart in his friend's hand was fiery scarlet at its tip and the heat palpable from a distance. It wasn't burning Gord's hand, but as the bard watched, the wielder thrust that incandescent tip into the ice. There was a chiming when that contact was made, rather than the hiss of heat battling with water. Then the relic sped ahead of its own volition, growing hollow, becoming no more than a cylinder of growing dimension as it went.
"The ice has vanished," Gord said needlessly, for he had already stepped into the castle's entry hall.
"There is no more piercing chill, either," Leda noted.
Just then there was a faint tinkling sound, the noise metal makes when it touches lightly on stone. Gellor's boot had kicked something that rolled with a wobbling motion as it went. He took several quick steps, reached for the thing, and scooped it up. "It is a gold ring set with jacinth," he exclaimed. "Which of us dropped it?"
None had, of course. "It is as with the little band of silver I gave to Leda," Gord observed. "With the appearance of that one, old friend, I surmise the ring comes from the disappearance of the Theorpart."
"But I put the ring you handed to me on my finger," Leda said. "I felt I had to . . . "
He didn't comment, but instead Gord looked at the grizzled veteran. "Is there a desire in you to don that ornament, Gellor?"
"Yes," the troubador said after a moment to consider it. He was holding the golden ring in his closed fist, allowing any power in it to flow into him thus. "There is something which urges I place it securely upon my hand — now!"
"Do so," Gord said after pausing a moment himself to consider, just as Gellor had reflected when asked about the thing.
"Why, Gord? What if"
"Never mind finishing that query. I think I know both question and answer. I'll tell you both later, though, Leda. Now it is needful for us to press ahead with alacrity." He began to suit word to action, moving into the luminous interior of the fortress, looking here and there as he went. The little elven girl and the bard followed readily enough, Gellor a step to the rea
r because he had taken a moment to slip off his mailed gauntlet and place the gold ring with its tawny orange stone upon his finger.
It was as if the place were a true castle. There was a great hall and antechambers, cellars and a dungeon beneath, galleries and countless rooms above the ground floor. The whole was furnished as would have been a like place on Oerth, save all things were fashioned of white material, or nearly white, or crystal. Ivory and various sorts of pale stone were common, and there was silver and platinum in profusion. Tables, chairs, and rugs too. All as new, none showing the slightest hint of ever having been used.
"No one has dwelled in this stronghold, not ever," Leda commented. "Where is the one we seek then?"
"He is here, right enough. We must keep searching," Gord said. "Split up. This castle has many towers. He must be in one of them."
Eventually the truth was plain. The great middle tower, the highest of the whole structure, with its turreted, gold-roofed tip thrust two hundred feet into the clouds, was the last place that remained unexplored by them. The three proceeded up its spiraling stairs together, feeling small and impossibly weak to accomplish the task that awaited, but determined nevertheless to try.
"What metal is this?" Gellor asked, for they had come to a door made of metallic stuff as blue as a summer's sky.
"None I have ever seen or heard tell of," Leda said, touching the stuff as she spoke.
"It is adamantite, pure and unalloyed with any other metal," Gord informed his companions. "Once, long ago when I practiced my thievish skills in Greyhawk I came upon a half-dozen small ingots of it. Because of their beauty and weight I took them. I exchanged those little bars of adamantite for their weight in gold orbs, my friends," he said ruefully. "Only afterward did I learn that not even platinum was sufficient. Adamantite of such purity is five times more precious than rare orichaicum!"
"A whole massive door of the metal! This is not possible," the bard murmured.
"Anything is possible here. The greatest of the Empyreal Spheres built this prison, didn't they?"