Finder's bane h-15
Page 22
The banelich held the stolen half of the finder's stone in its lap, stroking the yellow gemstone greedily The gem sparkled in the light given off from a nearby brazier.
Walinda stepped forward. The priestess wore the same black velvet gown she'd worn the night she'd stolen the finder's stone. Her hair hung down her back, loose and shining. She set a golden bowl down in the brazier. The banelich set the finder's stone in the bowl. Walinda rolled up the sleeve of her left arm.
Taking the priestess's arm, the banelich ran its fingertips along her veins. Black marks appeared where the banelich touched her. Walinda winced and clenched her teeth, but she didn't utter a sound. Like a snake striking out, the banelich sunk its teeth into Walinda's wrist and tightened its jaws into her flesh until blood began to flow from her arm. Walinda's body jerked, but once again she didn't make a sound.
The lich sat up straight again, licking the blood from its teeth with its black tongue. It held Walinda's bleeding arm over the golden bowl in the brazier. Walinda's blood poured over the finder's stone and hissed in the bottom of the warmed bowl. The bowl began to fill with bubbling, congealing blood. Joel thought he could smell the stench through the floorboards, though it could have been his sickened imagination.
Walinda began to swoon. The banelich released her arm. The priestess sank to the floor and collapsed in a heap.
The banelich fished the finder's stone out of the blood-filled bowl and positioned the gem back into the hole in its skull. With both hands, the undead creature smeared the congealing blood over the stone and his skull. The blood began to glow. When the banelich had finished, new flesh appeared around the hole in its skull, and the finder's stone was covered with a transparent layer of skin that held it more firmly in place.
Joel rolled away from the hole as quickly and silently as possible. He crawled toward the stern. Just past the cargo bay, he began retching. When he'd once again regained control of his stomach, Joel crawled back down the steps to the lower deck, where he and Jedidiah had set up their quarters.
Jedidiah listened with consternation to Joel's report.
"The banelich means to keep the stone, doesn't it?" Joel asked.
"Probably," Jedidiah agreed. "No doubt Walinda and her master intend some treachery to get the Hand of Bane from us once we've obtained it so they don't have to trade for it."
"What can we do?" Joel asked.
"Nothing for the moment," Jedidiah replied, scowling angrily. "After we get the hand, we'll have to be very, very careful."
Early the following evening Joel began to notice a buzzing in his head. He couldn't say for sure how long he'd been hearing it, but it was beginning to give him a headache. He mentioned it to Jedidiah when he explained he was going to bed early.
Jedidiah began to say good night, then stopped and his eyes widened. "Gods! I'm an idiot," he declared. "Get below deck," he ordered Joel as he wheeled about and headed for the cabin, shouting Walinda's name.
Joel grabbed his pack and followed his god into the cabin. He heard Jedidiah shouting, "Hard aport. And pick up speed if you can. We've come too close to a very dangerous place."
Joel peered out the cabin door. Jedidiah had left his pack leaning against the railing. Joel paused to debate the wisdom of running out and grabbing it.
Then something grabbed him. From over the cabin door, two tentacles lashed downward and around Joel's right arm and throat.
The young bard screamed as he was lifted bodily to the roof of the cabin. He found himself face-to-face with the most loathsome-looking creature he'd ever seen. Its head looked like a huge exposed brain, four feet across, with no apparent eyes and a great sharp beak for a mouth. It had no body, but floated in the air, trailing several tentacles as long as a man.
A swarm of the large creatures surrounded the ship, Several hovered over the rail and the cabin. From the cabin door below, Joel could hear Jedidiah chanting a spell. A silver war hammer manifested above the deck and shot out toward the lead creature. Tin magically summoned weapon buried itself into the creature's brain with a sickening squishing sound. The creature chirped but didn't fall.
Joel reached for his scabbard, but the creature holding him had already removed his sword with one of its tentacles. The remaining appendages wrapped about the bard's other arms and legs. Joel felt his skin tingle, as if he were being pricked with hundreds of sharp needles and pins, then go completely numb. His muscles no longer responded to his commands.
The other tentacled creatures began to float down the cargo bay to the deck below.
From what seemed far off, Joel heard the banelich's voice rise in an arcane chant. There was a clap of thunder, and a great cloud of smoke burst across the bow. A flaming chariot, pulled by two fiery horses, appeared on the cargo deck. The banelich stepped out of the cabin and fired off four black bolts of cold fire at the two creatures blocking his route to the chariot. They fell to the deck, their tentacles writhing like worms. Walinda, dressed in her plate mail and armed with her goad, rushed out onto the deck. The banelich climbed into the chariot with the priestess at its heels.
More attackers swarmed toward the followers of Bane, but the creatures were instantly singed by the flames burning about the chariot. Quickly they withdrew their scorched tentacles and curled them up beneath their bodies. The priestess and her master flew off. A flock of attackers flew after them, but the tentacled creatures couldn't keep up with the magical chariot.
The spelljammer ship began to sink slowly toward the earth. Joel, paralyzed in the tentacles of the creature that had attacked him, could do nothing but watch. Jedidiah emerged from the cabin, swinging a sword. It seemed to Joel that his god was floating in the air toward him as he lopped off tentacles to the left and right. Soon Jedidiah disappeared behind a swarm of the attackers. Then darkness claimed Joel.
When Joel awoke, Jedidiah was hovering over him with a look of grave concern.
"Glad you could join us," the god said. "Though you may wish you hadn't," he added grimly.
Joel discovered the numbness had left his muscles and he was able to sit up. Then he heard what sounded like shouting inside his head. Horrible ideas came spilling into his brain. He was nothing more than cattle, meant to be ruled by others. Only illithids were fit to rule, and one day they would conquer the multiverse. Joel put his hands to his head, but the shouting didn't stop.
Jedidiah covered his priest's head with his hands and muttered a quick chant. In a few moments, the shouting in Joel's head died down to a dull roar, then a persistent whispering.
"That should hold you for a little while," Jedidiah said. "I'm not sure if we'll have much more time than that."
The young bard looked around. They were in a small cavern lit by a light stone. The walls were covered with slimy black fungus. Walinda and the banelich were nowhere to be seen. Joel recalled how the two followers of Bane had fled the battle with the tentacled creatures. Then Joel saw something on Jedidiah's face that he'd never seen there before-fear. Something had frightened his god terribly.
"What happened?" Joel asked. "Where are we?"
"We strayed over the realm of Ilsensine," Jedidiah explained. "Ilsensine is the god of the illithids, or mind flayers, as they're called in the Realms. A very powerful god. Jas stole a spelljammer hull from the illithids, the same hull we were caught with. Ilsensine believes the illithids are the only beings fit to rule the universe. We're nothing but human cattle as far as he's concerned. The sight of us flying around in one of the illithids' ships was bound to upset their god."
"Uh-oh," Joel murmured.
"Uh-oh is right," Jedidiah replied grimly. "I'm a fool that it didn't occur to me just how far Ilsensine's senses reached. When it detected us, it sent some of its zombie slaves to bring us to its court. The banelich and Walinda fled in a magic chariot."
"Did you say those creatures with tentacles were zombies?" Joel asked.
Jedidiah nodded. "Sort of. They're called grell, and ordinarily they would simply eat us and be done wi
th it, but the ones that attacked us are brain-burned puppets of the illithid god. They're not really undead-they just lack minds of their own. Like the illithids who worship their god, Ilsensine devours the thoughts of others."
"Is that what's going to happen to us?" Joel asked, understanding now the fear in his god's face.
"I think we're about to find out," Jedidiah said, nodding at something behind Joel.
The young bard turned around. A male dwarf stood in the doorway. The creature's eyes were as blank as a statue's, and his clothing hung in rags on his nearly skeletal frame.
"Follow," the dwarf croaked.
Jedidiah picked up his light stone, stood up, and helped Joel to his feet. "Joel, I need to concentrate on protecting our minds so Ilsensine can't tell what we're thinking," the older man whispered in his ear. "You must do the talking. Tell it whatever it takes to get us out of here."
Together god and priest followed the zombie dwarf through a twisting maze of tunnels until they came to a vast cavern. Over fifty zombie grell and five zombie humans stood guard over a myriad of tunnel entrances that led into the cavern. A strange scent, like vinegar, assaulted Joel's nostrils.
In the center of the cavern was a bed of what appeared to be burning coals, except that the coals glowed not red but green. Acidic vapors rose from the coals, apparently the source of the vinegary smell. Joel was wondering if they were going to be thrown into the fire when the coals began to bubble and rise like bread. In another moment, the coals took on the appearance of a huge brain, the color of polished jade, ten times larger than the brains of the grell. Sections of the brain pulsed and throbbed. Innumerable tentacles hung down from the brain and reached, like roots, into the stone below. Two shorter tentacles waved before the creature's brain body.
The voice that had shouted in Joel's head began to reassert itself, like the droning of a self-absorbed lecturer. He felt an incredible sense of pressure on his brain, as if it were a walnut someone were trying to crack. His skin crawled with a primal instinct. He stood in the presence of a power so great and so evil he didn't need Holly's paladin's sense to detect it.
Then the voice in the bard's head spoke directly to him, and Joel knew then that the green monstrosity before him was the god of the illithids, Ilsensine.
What have you to say for yourselves, thieves?
Joel bowed low before the floating brain. "Your pardon, great one," he said, 'Taut we are not thieves." His voice in the great cavern sounded very small.
You were caught with the stolen property of our people. You are thieves.
"The spelljammer, yes," Joel said. "My associates took it from the thieves, and together we brought it to your realm, Lord Ilsensine. In reparation for the damages done to the vessel, please accept the spelljammer helm attached to the vessel. It belonged to the thieves."
The pressure on Joel's brain increased. He raised his hands to his throbbing temples in a futile effort to massage away the pain.
Your mind cannot remain closed to us forever, the voice declared. We will know if you are lying.
"It is as you say, great lord, but perhaps we can come to some agreement that you will find more satisfying than draining the dregs of our minds," Joel replied.
We must know who you are, the voice insisted.
"I am Joel, and this is Jedidiah. We are priests of Finder," Joel replied.
We have never heard of this Finder.
"Thank you very much," Jedidiah muttered softly, so that only Joel heard him.
"Finder has dominion over the cycle of life and the transformation of arts," Joel explained, trying to deepen his voice to fill the room. "He is worshiped by artists and bards seeking to renew their work."
Now we recall. The slayer of Moander. A demi-power worshiped only in Abeir-Toril. There are so many gods worshiped in that world it's hard to keep track of them all. We wouldn't be surprised to find they have a god there with dominion over the tableware and ale mugs.
Jedidiah chuckled with amusement. The laughter sounded so genuine that Joel would have been hard pressed to say whether his god was truly amused or just humoring Ilsensine. Joel chuckled as well.
If you are not thieves, why did two of your party flee? the voice asked.
"They were priests of Bane, Lord Ilsensine," Joel explained. "They stole the ship from the original thieves. We tricked them into flying over your territory."
There was a momentary silence. Then the god of the illithids said in their heads, Even if you did not steal our people's ship, there is still the question of trespass. No one enters our realm without paying tribute to us.
"We brought you your ship," Joel pointed out.
You cannot offer what you do not own as tribute.
"What can we offer you, Lord Ilsensine?" Joel asked.
Knowledge is the only power, Ilsensine said. Unless there is some knowledge you possess that we do not, your lives are forfeit.
Joel choked back his anger at the god's injustice and struggled with his fear that he had nothing to offer. He bowed his head modestly. "My only expertise is music, O great lord."
Then we will have a song. Something we have never heard before. Come forward so that we might take one from your mind. Be warned, however, that we will not stop until we find one we have not heard before.
Joel swallowed. There had to be something in his repertoire that the god hadn't heard… he hoped. He stepped forward.
"No!" Jedidiah declared, yanking the Rebel Bard back to his side. The incognito god stepped forward. "With respect, Lord Ilsensine," he said, "surely what you seek is not merely new knowledge, but exclusive knowledge. This one"-he nodded at Joel-"is my pupil. There is no song he knows that I do not. I, on the other hand, have many songs in my mind, some as yet unwritten. Take one of those. Then it will be yours and yours alone."
That would be satisfactory, Ilsensine replied. Come forward.
Jedidiah handed Joel his light stone, then stepped toward Ilsensine. The illithid god raised one of its short tentacles and stroked the older man's forehead. Jedidiah flinched, but whether from fear or pain, Joel could not tell.
Then in an instant the tentacle pulled backward and lashed forward, burying itself inside Jedidiah's head like an arrow. Jedidiah gasped.
Joel shouted and tried to leap to his god's defense, but three zombie grell lashed their tentacles around his arms and legs and held him fast. The young bard struggled furiously, horrified that Jedidiah might be harmed. He shouted for Ilsensine to leave the priest be, to take something from his own mind instead. The illithid god made no reply, but the grell tentacles tightened painfully about his limbs. With a sense of futility and despair, Joel went limp.
After a minute, Ilsensine withdrew the tentacle from Jedidiah's head. To Joel's relief, there seemed to be no wound. On the tip of the tentacle was a smear of pink, like raspberry jam. Ilsensine pulled it back toward its brain and smeared it into a fissure between two throbbing convolutions.
Joel felt a sigh in his mind… Ilsensine's sigh.
Mmmm. That is good. Very good.
Jedidiah collapsed to the floor in a heap.
"What have you done?" Joel cried out, struggling again in the grail's tentacles.
There is no need for alarm. He is not seriously injured. He will recover. We are most pleased. You have earned your freedom. My servants will escort you to the borders of our realm. Where will you be heading?
"The Palace of Judgment," Joel said, his eyes straining for some sign of movement from Jedidiah.
You will like it there. It is very beautiful. At least, that is what I have tasted in the minds of humans who have visited there.
A zombie grell scooped up Jedidiah's fallen form and floated from the hall. The grell holding Joel released him. The Rebel Bard followed after his god. Two grell followed him.
The grell carrying Jedidiah led the party through a glowing portal. On the other side was a straight passageway that climbed back to the daylit surface of the Outlands. After the cool, dark corrido
rs, the bright sky, with or without a sun, was a pleasure to see, and the air felt gloriously warm. Even better was the quiet that settled in Joel's head.
The grell set down Jedidiah and disappeared back into the dark tunnel in the earth.
Joel rushed to Jedidiah's side and shook him by the shoulders, calling out his name. The god remained unconscious, and he was very pale, but at least his breathing was steady. Joel rolled his cape up to pillow the older man's head.
Joel surveyed the land. He stood on a low bluff looking out over a great level plain. From the center of the plain rose a great city, laid out in perfect order, surrounded by a high wall. Everything was built of the same uniform red brick. The roofs all sparkled with glazed yellow tile. The streets were all paved with gray stone. Joel could see at least three large gardens, each growing around a blue lake. Even from this distance, the young priest was inclined to agree with Ilsensine- or, rather, with the victims whose minds the god had drained. The Palace of Judgment was indeed beautiful.
Yet the palace was only a stepping stone to Sigil. He and Jedidiah would have to reach the City of Doors quickly. If they didn't find the Hand of Bane before Walinda did, they would have nothing to barter for the stolen half of the finder's stone. Finder would remain a very weak god for a long time, and Bane the Tyrant would return to the Realms.
Joel shuddered. He knelt down beside Jedidiah, shook him gently, and called out his name-his real name this time.
The older priest woke with a start. He smiled up at Joel. " 'Lo," he said.
"Hello yourself," Joel replied with a grin, relief flooding over him.
"Been sleeping long, have I?" Jedidiah asked. He sounded like an invalid recovering from a long illness.
"Not too long," Joel answered. He helped his god sit up.
Jedidiah's head twitched involuntarily. It was a movement Joel had never seen before.
"Are you all right?" Joel asked Jedidiah.
"I'm not sure," the older bard said. "They have a saying in the Outlands: 'One would be wise to question the wits of anyone who makes it back alive from Ilsensine's court.'"