Pool of Twilight hop-3

by James M. Ward

  "What?" Sirana snarled in outrage. "Show me."

  The surface of the pool swirled. An image appeared, showing a stream tumbling through a narrow mountain valley. A woman with long chestnut-colored hair picked her way among the rocks, a large, tawny cat padding behind her. Numerous pouches hung at the woman's belt.

  "Evaine!" Sirana recognized the sorceress from their earlier meeting.

  The sorceress hunts pools like an owl hunts mice. She would destroy the pool of twilight, mistress. I have felt her magical detections reaching out for me once before. I thought I had dealt her a blow strong enough to annihilate her.

  "Apparently you failed," Sirana observed venomously. She paced beside the pool's edge. "I shall simply have to deal with this meddlesome sorceress myself." A cruel smile curled about her misshapen lips. "And I think I know just the way."

  She closed her eyes, sending forth a summons. "Come to me, dreamstalker. Come, and heed your leader's call!"

  There was a hiss of dank, musty air. Ragged tatters of shadow began to swirl in front of Sirana. The half-erinyes plunged her hand into the midst of the shadow, her fingers closing around a dark, slender strand. With all her might, she pulled on the thread. The vortex of shadow exploded, and the ethereal form of the bastellus materialized before Sirana.

  "What do you wish of me, mistress?" the dreamstalker intoned in its somnolent voice.

  "This woman is my enemy," Sirana snapped, gesturing toward the image in the pool. "I want you to feed upon her dreams. Feed until every last shred of her sanity has been consumed! Do you understand?"

  The bastellus Sigh nodded. It could sense the power of the long-haired woman in the image reflected in the pool. Draining her spirit through her dreams would be satisfying indeed. With a grateful bow, Sigh melted into the air.

  Sirana smirked. "Try to destroy my pool, will she?" She ran a slender finger under the jutting chin of the shadow fiend she had just created, then threw her head back and laughed.

  Like tiny stars, faint sparks of light began to swirl beneath her skin, glowing the exact same color as the shining flecks of twilight in her eyes.

  While Sirana gloated over her plans, reveling in her new abilities, the guardian sank to the bottom of the twilight pool.

  The creature was well pleased.

  The half-erinyes was becoming more and more ensnared by the magic of the pool. The guardian had been only too glad to grant her another drink of the pool's waters. Each taste would only make her hunger for more, and no matter how much the creature gave her, it would never be enough to satisfy her abominable cravings. It was only a matter of time before she succumbed to the temptation to submerge herself in the pool, to embrace its vast power. The moment she did, the guardian would be free. And the insufferable half-fiend would find herself imprisoned within the pool as its new guardian.

  The creature writhed in the murky depths, sending bubbles floating sluggishly upward through the thick, metallic water. Ah, how glorious, to fly again! What havoc the creature would be able to wreak once free of the blasted pool!

  Sirana thought she had cause for vengeance against Phlan, but her hatred was nothing compared to the creature's own. Its loathing of that damnable city had grown during centuries of entrapment. Its strength had grown as well during those long, agonizing years. Once free, the creature's power would be nearly as limitless as its hatred. And then Phlan would pay for its past transgressions…

  Soon, Dusk, the guardian murmured to itself. Very, very soon.

  It had to be patient. But there was not much longer to wait.

  Kern had always thought that the day he regained the Hammer of Tyr would be a day of unparalleled joy. But despite the solid weight of the ancient relic resting at his hip, he didn't feel much like celebrating.

  They had gathered in the aspen grove at dawn to bid their last farewells to Ren. The first steely beams of light slanted between the ghostly trees, sparkling as they fell upon the fine dusting of new snow that mantled the ground. The winter air was cold, the wind perfectly still. It was almost as if the whole world were holding its breath.

  Daile stood beside her father's body, gazing at the two magical daggers she held in her hands. Right and Left.

  "Use your father's weapons well, Daile," Miltiades said solemnly. "You are Daile o' the Blade now."

  "No," she said softly, shaking her head. She looked up, her blue eyes cold as ice. "These daggers protected me beneath the red tower, but I could never wield them like my father. No one could. They are his, and no other's."

  Daile knelt and slipped the two blades into their sheaths in Ren's boots. Then she stood straight, unslinging her ashwood bow from her shoulder. She drew a red-feathered arrow from the quiver on her back and pulled back against the bowstring, aiming for the sky. With a cry, she released the arrow. It sped high into the slate-blue dome above. The arrow traveled upward until Kern lost sight of it.

  Suddenly the two daggers tucked into Ren's boots quivered. Each gave a small jerk as the knobs on the end of their hilts popped open. Two small, smooth stones rose out of the compartments concealed in the dagger hilts to whirl about Daile's head. The others stared in wonder.

  Miltiades recognized the small stones. "They are Ren's ioun stones."

  Daile nodded. She knew the story behind the stones. They had been stolen by a woman named Tempest, a thief. Tempest had been Ren's first love, but she was murdered by the Lord of the Ruins, the dragon who had sought to control the pool of radiance in the ruins thirty years earlier.

  The two ioun stones settled onto Daile's bow and embedded themselves in the wood with a faint click. The longbow hummed brightly in the ranger's grip, then was quiescent once again. Daile nodded in understanding. The magical stones were her father's last gift to her.

  She lowered her bow, her shoulders stiff and square. "From now on, I am Daile Redfletching," she said grimly.

  The others nodded dumbly, alarmed at the ferocity in the young ranger's voice and the coldness in her eyes. Without a word, Daile turned to make her way back to the campfire.

  The companions ate a cheerless breakfast of dried fruit and flatbread by the scant warmth of the fire. Miltiades, who had no use for food, instead drew a small brooch from a leather purse. The brooch was wrought of gold and set with a single clear gemstone.

  "Evaine gave it to me," he explained to the others, "so that we might communicate with each other. I think she would care to know that you have gained the hammer, Kern. As well as the sorrowful news about Ren."

  The skeletal paladin whispered the word of magic Evaine had taught him that activated the brooch. The crystal flashed, and an image appeared within its facets. The image showed a snowy, wind-scoured crag rising high above a range of jagged peaks. There was no sign of Evaine anywhere.

  "Where is she?" Kern asked with a frown.

  Miltiades shook his head. "I do not know. If she still possessed the brooch, she would know I am calling her."

  "She must have lost it," Listle said worriedly. "But where? Unless mountains have a habit of growing overnight, I don't think that's the forest around her dwelling."

  "Those are the Dragonspine Mountains," Daile said, peering into the gem. "I recognize them from the map that Evaine created with my father's help."

  Miltiades uttered another magical word. The gem went dark. "This can only mean one thing. Evaine has journeyed into the mountains."

  "But why?" Kern asked.

  Listle's eyes widened in realization. "Don't you see? She intends to destroy the pool of twilight! Ridding Faerun of the pools is her life's quest." The elf swore sharply. "We should have known she would try something like this."

  "Well, maybe Evaine knows what she's doing," Kern offered. "After all, I don't think there's anyone who knows more about pools within a thousand leagues of here."

  "That is true, Kern," Miltiades replied. "But no matter how wise Evaine may be, she cannot realize that Sirana is drawing power from the pool. I doubt she expects to face another sorceress, let
alone a half-fiend mage who is in league with the magic of the twilight pool." The skeletal knight's breastplate shuddered. Kern would almost have thought it a sigh if Miltiades had been in the habit of breathing.

  "Then we have to go after her, to warn her!" Kern stood.

  Miltiades raised a gauntlet, halting him. "You forget, Kern. The Dragonspine Mountains are nearly a tenday's ride from this place. With her scrying spells, Evaine will certainly discover the pool before we reach her, no matter how hard we ride. Indeed, she may have already located it."

  Kern hung his head in despair. "We have to warn her somehow," he said without much confidence.

  "I think I might be able to arrange something," Listle said, hurrying over to her leather backpack. "I found these yesterday while I was wandering around the maze in the ruins. Something told me they might come in handy."

  She pulled two cylindrical objects from her pack. With a flick of her wrist, she unrolled one of them. It was a bright, intricately patterned carpet.

  Kern eyed the carpet skeptically. "Maybe I'm missing something here, but I fail to see how a rug is going to solve our problems."

  Listle snorted with annoyance. "Sometimes you have absolutely no imagination, Kern." She snapped her fingers, and abruptly the carpet rose several feet off the ground, its golden fringe fluttering. "These are flying carpets!" Listle hopped onto the hovering carpet while the others watched in amazement. The elf positively beamed. "What in the world would you do without my help?"

  "I shudder to think," Miltiades said, a note in his dry voice that might almost have been amusement.

  Their decision was made easy for them. While Kern wanted nothing more than to hurry back to Shal and Tarl, he knew they must go to warn Evaine.

  "I suppose this means we'll have to leave you behind," Listle said sadly, stroking the muzzle of her gray pony.

  "I don't think you need bid your steed farewell, Listle," Miltiades said.

  "I wish you were right, Miltiades," Listle answered glumly. "But somehow I doubt the horses will fit on the magic carpets."

  "We'll see," Miltiades replied mysteriously.

  The undead paladin whispered something into the ear of his magical white stallion, Eritophenes, who then pranced toward Listle's pony. Eritophenes bent his head over the dappled gray and snorted. A pale mist encircled the pony, and suddenly the horse shimmered, shrinking in size until it became a tiny gray figurine standing in the snow. Eritophenes moved to the other horses, and in moments they, too, had been transformed by the stallion's magical breath into miniatures. Eritophenes let out a whinny, then also glowed brightly, shrinking into a small, prancing figure.

  Miltiades gathered the miniature horses and placed them safely in a pouch. Kern could only shake his head in wonder. That was another problem solved.

  "Now if I could only do that with Kern when he's acting uncooperative," Listle mused.

  "You know, Listle, you're really not as funny as you think you are," Kern grumped.

  She gave him a flat stare. "What makes you think I'm joking?"

  Quickly they broke camp and packed their things onto the carpets. But when it was time to go, Daile hesitated.

  "I'm sorry, Kern," she said quietly. "But I can't go with you. At least not yet. I… I have to take my father back to the Valley of the Falls. I know he would want to lie by my mother's side."

  Kern nodded gravely, gripping her shoulder tightly. He hated to part company with the ranger.

  "Take one of the carpets, Daile," Listle offered. "We three can all fit on one." She shot Kern a wry look. "If this big oaf doesn't hog all the space, that is."

  Kern nodded. "Do take it, Daile. And when you can, come find us in the mountains."

  "I will, Kern. I promise."

  With that, Kern, Miltiades, and Listle climbed onto one of the undulating carpets. At a signal from the elf, it rose into the air and sped northward.

  Daile watched as the carpet dwindled to a speck, then vanished from sight. A frigid wind picked up, blowing her red-gold hair from her brow as she turned to face the dawning sun.

  "I swear that I will avenge you, Father," she whispered. Her words were snatched away by the wind. "With the sky as my witness, I swear it."

  Daile Redfletching turned her back on the brilliant orb of the sun and, taking the second flying carpet, trudged up the slope toward the grove of aspens.

  14

  Curious Encounters

  "I don't know what's getting into me, Gam."

  Evaine dragged herself out of her bedroll, blinking blearily in the brilliant morning light. This was the third day in a row she had woken feeling as if she had been up fighting battles all night long. Her dark eyes looked sunken, her skin sallow. She sighed as she sat cross-legged on her bedroll, slowly chewing a piece of hardtack. Even eating seemed a chore.

  You push yourself too hard, Evaine, Gamaliel's voice entered her mind. And though you do not admit it, the cold bothers you.

  "I don't mind it," Evaine countered, but in the same instant she gave a shiver, belying her words. The mountain cold seemed to seep right through her heavy coat and into her bones.

  You never were a very good liar, Gamaliel noted.

  "Then I guess I'll just have to practice some more, won't I?" Evaine replied archly. The great cat's whiskers twitched in annoyance.

  The sorceress set aside the hardtack. She knew she had to eat to keep up her strength, but she had little appetite. She gathered her willpower and stood, trembling as she gained her feet. Stiffly, she gathered her things and shrugged on her backpack.

  "Let's go, Gam."

  She started off through the snow, followed by her familiar. Evaine was certain they were nearing the pool of twilight. She had cast her scrying spell several times these last few days, at several different locations. After each try, she had taken out her magical map of the mountains and, with a shining green line, marked the general direction of the spell. The pool was most likely concealed where the lines intersected. It was only a matter of time-and spells-before Evaine pinpointed the location exactly.

  She could only hope that when she finally did find it, she would still have enough strength to destroy the pool of twilight.

  She found herself wondering how Miltiades and the others were faring. Reflexively she reached up to touch the brooch of communication-but her fingers met only a small tear in her tunic. The brooch was gone. She sighed. How she had lost the gem, she did not know. Now there was no way for her to contact the others.

  By midday the forest had thinned, giving way to a field of boulders that sloped toward a sheer cliff. Climbing the cliff with its crumbling overhangs looked to be an impossibility. However, a small stream had cut a steep but passable ravine into the cliff face. Picking their way carefully across the loose scree, sorceress and cat started up the defile.

  Evaine quickly realized they were not the first travelers to have come this way. Indeed, they stumbled upon a faint but distinguishable path, marked here and there by small cairns. When the ravine widened into a broad, boulder-strewn bowl, Evaine saw the remains of a temple perched on the cliff top, now perhaps two hundred feet above them. It looked as if half of the structure had slid into the valley centuries ago, and what remained was wind-worn and roofless. But several colonnades of broken columns still stood, and a section of crumbling wall suggesting some sort of nave.

  Evaine marveled at the ruin, wondering who had built a hall for their god in this place so long ago. It must have been a very holy site, she thought. Even now there was a peculiar serenity about the weathered columns that reached toward the azure dome of the sky.

  The path continues up to the temple, Gamaliel spoke in his mistress's mind.

  Evaine nodded, and the two began to wend their way among the jagged boulders up the narrow path.

  "Do you hear thunder?" she asked her familiar, frowning.

  Winter is not the time for thunderstorms.

  Evaine gazed at the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight. She was about to accr
edit the noise she had heard to her imagination when suddenly she heard it again. It was louder this time, a low rumbling that grew with each passing second.

  Evaine, look out!

  The sorceress jerked her head up and gasped. A huge boulder bounced down the ravine toward the two travelers, pulverizing other rocks in its path. Gamaliel leaped toward her, knocking her aside. Entwined, the two rolled beneath a low granite overhang.

  A second later, the boulder struck the overhang and bounced past, missing Evaine and Gamaliel by a matter of inches.

  "You didn't have to be quite so rough," Evaine said testily, wriggling out of the crevice and brushing herself off. "A simple 'Duck!' would have been sufficient."

  You're welcome, Evaine, Gamaliel replied wryly.

  This made her laugh despite their close call. She scratched him affectionately behind the ears, then started back up the path that followed the narrow gully.

  Moments later, another deep rumbling echoed down the ravine.

  They were better prepared for the boulder this time, scrambling out of its path before it hurtled by. But they had barely resumed their trek up the ravine when the booming noise began anew.

  "This is getting ridiculous," Evaine said in growing annoyance as the third boulder tumbled past the mouth of the shallow cave into which they had quickly scrambled.

  Once that boulder was out of sight, the sorceress found an ancient-looking cedar tree, gnarled and twisted by years of strong winds. She pulled herself up to its highest branches, which afforded a better view of the cliff top. What she saw made her stare in amazement.

  "I think I've found the source of those boulders," she called down to Gamaliel.

  Even as she pointed, a huge man-shaped form lumbered mechanically from between the temple's colonnades. The creature carried a massive boulder in its arms, moving toward a crumbling wall that ended abruptly at the cliff's edge. When the gigantic creature reached the end of the wall, it dropped the rock, and the fourth boulder started its noisy journey down the mountainside. Apparently unperturbed, the creature lumbered back through the temple to pick up another boulder and begin the sequence anew.