Riverwind p2-1

by Paul B. Thompson

  They came together again facing the statue. “Quenesti Pah,” Di An said reverently. “It is the goddess.”

  Riverwind had never heard the name. He gazed at the youthful face, so full of compassion and quiet wisdom. “The goddess of what?” he asked, though reverently.

  “The healing arts,” Di An replied solemnly. “She aids those who are ill and seek relief.”

  “I've never heard of this Quenesti Pah,” Riverwind said, never taking his eyes from the figure.

  A distant clanging of metal shocked them out of their reverie. Riverwind rushed back to the antechamber and closed the first set of golden doors. He shut the second and cast about for something to bar the door with.

  “Fetch me that rod,” he said, meaning the staff held in the goddess's hands.

  “That is a sacred staff!” Di An protested. “It belongs to the goddess!”

  “I need it to block the door!” Riverwind insisted. Di An frowned, but she grasped the staff near the bottom and tugged. The carved marble fingers of the goddess held the wooden rod firmly.

  “I can't free it,” she said.

  “Never mind! We must get out of here.” The noise beyond the doors was louder. “That way!”

  Di An threw open the doors facing the goddess's statue. There was another ceremonial hall beyond, and another set of double golden doors. Riverwind ran to her. A booming filled the ancient temple. Shanz and his draconians were at the first golden doors.

  Riverwind fumbled with the latch on the doors. It was old and stiff. The antechamber door burst under Shanz's pounding. “Goldmoon,” he said under his breath, “let all the old gods aid us who can!”

  He brought the pommel of the goblin sword down smartly on the reluctant latch. It yielded with a screech, and Riverwind butted the doors apart. A brilliant hot light struck them as they rushed through the open doors of the temple.

  The sun!

  Di An gave a brief cry and flung an arm over her eyes. Riverwind squinted, groping for the elf girl's hand. Shouts rang in the temple chamber. Riverwind and Di An staggered down the steps of the temple, bumping blindly against the delicate, fluted columns that flanked the entrance.

  Sun. Sunlight! It was like fire after so much time beneath the surface. But while it blinded Riverwind, it also warmed him to the core of his being and flowed like new strength into his limbs. The air was fresh and warm, free of the damp moldiness of the caverns. Even as Di An's fingers slipped from his, Riverwind relaxed his contorted eyelids and stood gladly in the blazing light as his pale face warmed.

  Di An made feeble protesting sounds as she pressed her face to the ground. Riverwind quickly looked back at the temple portal. The draconians had not emerged. The ever thorough Shanz must be searching the whole building.

  “Di An,” the plainsman said, kneeling beside her, “are you all right?” She could make only choking gasps in reply. “What is it?”

  “Too much light. Too much air!”

  Her mind reeled at the sight of it. A vast openness, no roof, no walls of sturdy, comforting rock. The world was filled with air and light. Just air and light. Di An pushed the heels of her hands against her closed eyes. The darkness didn't comfort her. She knew the emptiness was there, all around her. Pain lanced through her head, and her stomach heaved. She felt as though her feet would leave the ground, as if she would fall up, not down, be swallowed, be drowned, float forever in a sea of endless, boundless, nothing…

  She hunched herself into a tight ball and moaned. River-wind tried to untangle her arms and legs, but she held together so firmly he only succeeded in turning her on her side. Sunlight fell across her face despite her shielding hands, and Di An let out a heartrending scream.

  “No, please! The draconians will hear-”

  Too late. The first armored lizard man appeared at the main door of the temple. He shouted over his shoulder to his comrades. Three more appeared.

  Riverwind stepped in front of the stricken elf girl. “Here I am,” he said. “Come see how a Que-Shu man defends his life!”

  They knew he was dangerous, having seen him fight the mighty Thouriss, so the draconians entertained no ideas of honor and attacked in unison. Riverwind said, “Di An, run for your life!” She crept away on hands and knees. He advanced to the steps of the temple to meet his enemies.

  The four lizard men attacked. Their heavier swords threatened to break the crude goblin blade Riverwind had. He traded glancing slashes with the two middle warriors, while the outside pair tried to work around him. With a skillful feint he laid open the face of one of the draconians. The creature floundered back, dazed and bleeding.

  Riverwind ducked as another draconian aimed a cleaving blow at his skull. The thick steel blade gouged a chip out of one of the temple pillars. Riverwind thrust under the lizard man's high attack, skidding off his cuirass but burying his point in the draconian's shoulder. He pushed his blade in and spun forward, whirling the impaled lizard man with him. The draconian dropped his sword and sagged to his knees. Riverwind let go of the goblin blade. The draconian fell forward, driving the blade deeper under his breastplate.

  The mortally wounded lizard man shuddered. He raised a wavering hand, the fingers of which were rapidly turning gray. All over the dying draconian, his dark green skin lost its color, becoming dry and hard. Riverwind gaped. The draconian changed from flesh to stone before his eyes. Even his blood, pooled on the temple floor, changed to fine gray ash.

  There was no time to celebrate. The wounded warrior and his two comrades closed on the weaponless Riverwind. The plainsman dodged their straight thrusts by backing through the open doors into the temple. He prayed no more draconians were coming.

  By the soft white light in the statue chamber, the scaled soldiers turned an especially vivid green. They fanned out, trying to cut Riverwind off from the side chambers and the route back to the Hall of Ancestors. Riverwind found himself backed to the base of the goddess's statue without so much as a knife. His hands slipped over the cool marble and found wood. The staff.

  He swung around, keeping the enemy in sight as they drew nearer. With the intention of freeing the staff, or at least breaking off the lower half, Riverwind put all his strength into one great pull. To his surprise, the staff readily came away in his grasp.

  A draconian attacked. Riverwind parried with the staff and swung the free end around, rapping the lizard man hard on the elbow. He chopped at the plainsman again, and Riverwind drove the end of the staff into the creature's left knee. It buckled, and down he went. The second draconian intervened, slashing hard at Riverwind's exposed side. He parried and parried, blocking the stout blade with a wooden staff no more than two inches thick. Thus engaged, Riverwind didn't see the crippled draconian rise on his good knee and make a desperate thrust with his blade.

  The blow felt as if a hot iron had passed through the plainsman's unprotected back. Riverwind bolted away, swinging the staff like a cudgel. It connected solidly with the crippled draconian's helmet and he pitched forward, out cold.

  Blood coursed down Riverwind's hip and leg. The remaining two draconians came at him from two sides. The half-blinded one made a wild swing with his sword that Riverwind knocked aside. The blade continued its wide swath until it stopped in the throat of the other draconian. He was stone before he hit the floor.

  The domed chamber swam before Riverwind's eyes. He felt very cold as his life drained from the wound in his back. The last draconian, “with only one good eye himself, came after him. Riverwind's staff connected with the lizard man's chin, snapping his head back. He fell and struggled for a few moments trying to get up. Riverwind found a sword and finished him off.

  “Di An!” the plainsman croaked weakly. “Help me…” Leaning on the staff, now stained with his blood, Riverwind wobbled to the open door. Di An was nowhere in sight. There were marks in the soft, peaty soil where she had crawled away. He had to find her.

  He swung a leg out to take a step, but collapsed as it crumpled under him. He retaine
d his desperate grip on the staff. Riverwind's eyelids fluttered closed. There was no fight left in him. It was over.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sapphire Light

  His life has been one of seanching. Always he has wandered, over forest, hill, mountain, and plain, seeking. He needed to belong. The father he saw die in disgrace and disrepute had taught him that the gods live, even in these dark times. He believed, if only because it was his father's word. No one else listened to the old man, but Riverwind did.

  He opened his eyes. “Is this death?” Riverwind said aloud. “If it is, it is a most pleasant ending to a painful life.” Peace and tranquility washed over the plainsman.

  He affects to be brave in the face of the unknown. How like his father he is.

  Riverwind sat up. He could not see anything around him but a penetrating blue glow. “Who is speaking?” he asked.

  I am the one you have sought for so long. It was in my temple that you slew the minions of Takhisis, and it is where you lie even now.

  “Am I dead?” Curiously, this idea brought no fear with it.

  I hold your life in the small of my hand. Your body was grievously injured, and I had to act quickly to catch your soul before it departed.

  “You are… Quenesti Pah?”

  So the folk of Silvanesti have called me. You would know me better by this symbol.

  In front of Riverwind's eyes appeared a symbol in glittering steel: two teardrops joined tip to tip. The symbol worn by his beloved Goldmoon.

  The plainsman sank to his knees. “Great Goddess Mishakal, forgive me!”

  Forgive you for what? Your doubts? Doubt has been a plague on Krynn these centuries past. Your fear? Fear is part of being in the world of flesh and blood. It makes life quick and sweet, but also hard and deadly. There is nothing to forgive, son of Wanderer.

  A white figure appeared before him. It was a woman in the prime of life, with white skin and long tresses of scarlet that tossed in a wind he could neither hear nor feel. She held the rude wooden staff Riverwind had wrenched from the statue's hands.

  Stand up. Face me, Riverwind.

  He did so.

  I formed the staff from a single celestial sapphire, the same crystals that make up the thrones of the gods of Good. In the Age of Dreams, so many good people were hurt and maimed by the dragons of evil that I struck off this shard from my throne and sent it to Krynn, so that the priests who worshiped me could heal the sick brought to them.

  The figure's lips did not move as she spoke. The wooden staff glowed brighter and brighter, until all semblance of wood was banished. Now you see its true nature. It is the Blue Crystal Staff.

  The goddess smiled and continued. Only one whose heart is inherently good can touch the staff and remain unharmed. It can heal, make light, dispel curses and evil compulsions, banish fear, and if welded by one in whom I have dwelt, raise the dead to life again.

  “What am I to do with it, great goddess?”

  Take it to your beloved. She will know what to do. My Blue Crystal Staff will fulfill your quest, and make my name known to your people once more. But it cannot long remain outside my temple, for even a fragment of celestial sapphire will decay if held too long in mortal hands. Take the staff, good Riverwind, and bear it to Goldmoon.

  “I swear it, Holy One,” Riverwind said. “I shall not part with your staff until I lay it in the hands of my beloved.”

  The white figure faded into the blue light. Riverwind felt pain in his back again, and the light intensified until he could see nothing.

  “Goddess! Mishakal!” he cried. The Blue Crystal Staff fell out of the light and into his hands. A tingle ran through him, and the wound in his back healed. His swollen eye opened, clear. His cuts disappeared. For a moment, Riverwind glimpsed the hall of the gods: vast, glittering towers of crystal, the facets of which he knew were broader than the whole of Krynn. These towers were but single legs of the thrones of the gods. Their sum was beyond the comprehension of a mortal mind.

  He will do well. You chose wisely, Mishakal.

  Thank you, Paladine. It was his destiny to serve thus.

  Send him back now.

  Yes, my lord. It is done.

  He awoke where he'd lain down to die, at the foot of the statue. Riverwind rose, unhampered by pain or bleeding. In fact, not a drop of blood spotted his ragged clothing or stained the white floor of the sacred chamber. The blue light in the temple was gone, leaving normal shadows in its place. The staff lay on the floor at the statue's base.

  Riverwind picked it up. It looked like ordinary wood again. A little over five feet long, it was about an inch in diameter. He held it close to his chest as he gazed up at the image of Mishakal.

  “Thank you, goddess,” he said. “Thank you for my life. I will put your staff in Goldmoon's hands.”

  He walked out of the temple. It was night. Solinari, the silver moon, brightened the swampy lands that lay just outside the temple. This region was called the Cursed Lands, and for good reason. From Xak Tsaroth to the Forsaken Mountains, the land was a stinking miasma of black water, moss, ironwood forests, and spongy turfed “islands.” Snakes, biting insects, and fever infested the Cursed Lands.

  Riverwind retrieved a sword and scabbard from a dead draconian-who had now become dust-and fastened it to his belt. For a moment, he stood silently, contemplating all that had happened. The awe of what he'd seen and felt had driven all other thoughts from his mind.

  Riverwind's head came up with a snap. Di An. She was lost out in the Cursed Lands somewhere, mind crumbling under the terror of the open sky. He didn't relish having to hunt for her, but she might already have fallen prey to accident, animals, marauders. Worse still, the plainsman doubted that Di An was thinking clearly. She might have blundered into a mire, or floundered in deep water while trying to wade.

  Think, Riverwind. What would Di An do? There was a thirty-foot-wide well to his left. Remnants of a wall surrounded it. He saw no sign that she had gone that way.

  Di An was terrified of the wide blue sky and dazzled by the sun. Yet she'd visited the surface before. Di An had said she'd only been to the upper world at night. The black sky would not have been so threatening to cavern dwellers as the cloudless vault she'd beheld upon leaving the temple. If Di An had been paralyzed during the hours of daylight, she might have recovered enough by now to creep back to the place she'd last seen Riverwind… here at the temple!

  So sure was Riverwind that he'd made the right deduction that he called out quietly, “Di An?” More loudly. “Di An?”

  A sob, then: “Here.”

  He turned and mounted the cracked steps again. There, slumped in a far corner of the portico, was the elf girl. She didn't move until Riverwind knelt beside her, then she flung her arms around him. Her grip was strong with fear.

  “Are you all right?” he asked gently. She didn't answer, but kept her face pressed to his chest. “I thought you might be lost in the swamp.”

  “I thought you were dead!”

  “No. One of the lizard men dealt me a mortal wound, but the goddess raised me up and healed all my hurts. And she gave me this.” She sat back, and he brought the staff around for her to see. Di An looked puzzled so Riverwind explained what Mishakal had told him.

  “The gods have favored you,” she said. Di An put a hand to his cheek. Impulsively, she kissed him, but Riverwind broke away. “Don't,” he said, “You know I love another.”

  “She is far away.”

  “Goldmoon is always here,” he said, touching a hand to his heart.

  Di An shrank from him, pulling back into the deep shadows of the temple wall. “I'm sorry. I thought, since my change, you might see me differently. Not as a child, but as a woman.”

  Riverwind cupped her cheek with one hand. “You are a beautiful woman, Di An. And you've been a brave companion.” He found his gaze caught by her enormous dark eyes. Those eyes regarded him with frank devotion. Even as he spoke to her of the futility of her feelings for him,
he found himself leaning toward her. Her hand came up and rested lightly over his on her face. Her lips were trembling. “A beautiful and true companion,” he said softly.

  Di An could hardly bear his nearness, his tenderness. Her heart overflowed with her love of him. “I love you, Riverwind,” she whispered.

  Her own words broke the spell. Riverwind took his hand away and moved back. Jolted, Di An also withdrew.

  “I'm sorry,” he said. “You are my friend. I would lay down my life to save yours, but my heart is already given away.” He finished by standing and settling the draconian sword belt around his hips. “Let's find some shelter. Tomorrow, we'll try to cross the Cursed Lands.”

  Di An looked away from the man's tall form, outlined in the moonlight. “Could we not cross tonight?' she asked.

  “To try to find our way through that area at night would be suicide.” He offered his hand, and after a slight hesitation, Di An took it. “Tomorrow.”

  Riverwind awoke refreshed, surprisingly so for having slept on a cold stone floor. He stretched and smiled at the sunlit view showing through a window opening. He and Di An had taken refuge in a small building, somewhat secluded from the main structures around the temple. Before falling asleep, he'd worried a bit about Shanz sending more draconians after them. But the draconian leader probably thought they were miles away by now. Riverwind's vigilant hearing detected no stirrings of draconians throughout the night.

  Di An was not where she had lain down during the night. When the sun had risen, she'd moved to an inside corner, buried as deeply as possible in the comforting darkness. When Riverwind went over to waken her, he found her awake, eyes wide and staring.

  “Di An,” he said, “are you well?”

  “The light has returned,” she mumbled. “The killing light.”

  “The sun? Yes, it returns every day,” he said. Di An blinked once and didn't reply. Riverwind gave her arm a friendly squeeze and said, “I'm going down to the water to see if I can't gather up something to eat. I'm famished.”