Sand of the Soul

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Sand of the Soul Page 11

by Voronica Whitney-Robinson


  At least one of us, she thought, managed to keep her head and do something right.

  “Where do we begin?” Tazi asked.

  “You give up Fannah to us,” he replied.

  CHAPTER 6

  CALIMPORT MUZAD

  “What do you mean by that?” Steorf yelled as he regained his feet.

  He started to move toward the Lurker, but Tazi blocked him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, giving him a warning look. She turned her head and questioned the priest herself.

  “Just what do you mean by that?” she asked in a calmer tone.

  “I will explain,” the Lurker replied, holding up one hand, “but let me first attend to the Child of Ibrandul.”

  With that, he walked over to join the circle of Children of Ibrandul that had surrounded the injured novice.

  Tazi quickly checked on Fannah. The blind woman stood near the dais, unperturbed by the unfolding events. Since she appeared fine, Tazi used the time to ensure that Steorf was all right. He held his ground, but Tazi could see that he was seething. She walked over to him and took his hands in hers. Normally, they were smooth and clean. She turned them back and forth and winced at the split knuckles and blood that was starting to dry in the cracks.

  “Do they hurt much?” she asked him, in spite of her anger at his actions.

  “Not nearly as much as I’m sure he’s hurting,” came Steorf’s curt reply.

  Tazi frowned at him.

  “You know,” she replied coldly, “you might have overreacted just a bit.”

  “Was I supposed to stand around while he attacked you?” he snapped.

  “I was hardly attacked,” she retorted. “I think you just moved a little too quickly.”

  “I’m not going to let you get hurt again,” he said through gritted teeth, “because I was too slow to act or was distracted for a moment. You have no idea what I went through when you were wounded that last time. I won’t let that happen to you ever again if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”

  Tazi stared up at him.

  “I appreciate that,” she finally replied. “I just think you might need to temper your actions with a little thought.”

  Realizing what he was trying to tell her, though, she added, “But don’t think too long. I don’t want to be hurt, either.”

  She looked down and lightly rubbed her thumbs against his bruised knuckles. When she looked back into his face, he was as close to smiling as he ever let himself get.

  Tazi, struggling with her own mixed feelings, released his hands and turned in time to see several of the Children of Ibrandul carry their injured comrade through a side door out of the main chamber. The Lurker, with some blood on his robes, headed back to where Tazi and Steorf were standing.

  “Let’s see what he has to say,” she whispered to Steorf. “If we don’t like what we hear, grab Fannah and get out of here.”

  “Let me think about that one,” he whispered back.

  Tazi had to suppress a smile in spite of the situation.

  “Will he be all right?” Tazi asked as soon as the Lurker was standing in front of them.

  “In time, Asraf will be as good as new. However, I think I will have him carry a few scars as a reminder of the cost of acting hastily. One should always think before one acts.”

  Upon hearing those words, Tazi cast a sidelong look at Steorf.

  “But enough on that matter,” the Lurker continued. “What is done is done. We need to discuss what has brought you to us.”

  “You are correct,” Tazi agreed, “but I would like to know what you meant about keeping Fannah.”

  “If this necromancer is as dangerous as you say—”

  “Of course he’s dangerous,” Steorf interrupted.

  “If he is that dangerous,” the Lurker continued, though Tazi thought his patience was wearing thin, “then your friend is in the gravest of danger.”

  “That’s why …” Steorf began in an exasperated tone but stopped short when Tazi surreptitiously squeezed his forearm.

  “Yes, she is in jeopardy,” Tazi finished more calmly. “That’s why we’re here.”

  The Lurker nodded in agreement.

  “You’ve made it this far,” he said, “but my reasons for keeping Fannah here are twofold.”

  “Please go on,” Tazi asked, all the while keeping a light grip on Steorf’s arm.

  “The most obvious is to keep her as safe as possible. If something should happen to you both, Ciredor will not be able to find her exact location. There are some wards in place within this temple to thwart other magic, and they are fairly effective, as your young associate discovered just a short time ago.”

  Tazi dropped her eyes at that. However, she noticed that Steorf still looked unrepentant.

  “There is something else that you may not have considered. This necromancer has had possession of the woman in the past. If he is as formidable as you say, he might have the ability to scry through Fannah’s blind eyes, or have the means to use her against you somehow. Any plans that we form may be vulnerable to his abilities if the three of you remain together,” he finished. “She will be safest without you.”

  Tazi was hesitant. Something about his logic didn’t sit well with her, but she was loath to argue with a necessary host they had already insulted, to say the least.

  Steorf was obviously not bound by the same compunctions.

  “Are you trying to tell us that we can’t take care of our own?” he barked. “We got this far, you know.”

  Tazi winced at Steorf’s words. She felt he was overreacting again, just as he had taken too quick offense with the novice of Ibrandul. They couldn’t afford to anger these people any more than they already had. Though she wished that she, Steorf, and Fannah could have had a moment alone to discuss the situation, she realized that wasn’t going to happen. Tazi saw that Fannah didn’t appear unduly distressed by their predicament. She was quietly chatting with one of the novices who had remained with her in the main chamber a few paces away from the dais.

  She did say she knew them from before, Tazi thought, and Steorf did read the situation incorrectly just a few moments ago …

  “I think you may be right,” she finally said aloud.

  The priest smiled at her choice, but Steorf was deadly silent.

  “Let me just say a few words to her,” Tazi said.

  “Of course,” the priest replied. “And don’t worry, we will keep her safe from anyone who would do her harm.”

  Tazi looked him in the eye and nodded curtly. She could hear the sincerity in his voice during that last statement.

  She walked over to where Fannah stood waiting. At a discreet motion from the priest, the novice moved away politely.

  “The Lurker thinks you will be safer with them for a time,” Tazi began.

  “Do you believe that to be the best course of action?” Fannah asked her.

  “His reasons are sound, and they have merit,” Tazi replied.

  Fannah took Tazi’s hand in her own.

  “Follow your feelings,” she told Tazi softly.

  “Steorf followed his, and look where that almost got us,” she replied. “The walls nearly came crashing down.”

  Tazi could still see some of the debris from Steorf’s skirmish littering the floor.

  “That may be,” Fannah agreed, “but he was true to himself. I can hear the anger in his voice right now, but he is in far less turmoil than you are.”

  “It’s your life we’re talking about!” she exclaimed. “I’ve got a reason to be confused.”

  “I haven’t forgotten what is at stake,” Fannah said softly.

  “I’m sorry,” Tazi apologized quickly, hating to see Fannah upset. “Of course you, out of all of us, know how important this is.”

  “If the Lurker’s plan is sound, then follow it. I will be all right here and I might even slow you down. If he is wrong, however—” she paused—“then come back. We will find another way.”

  “I w
ill find you no matter where you are,” Tazi promised.

  “I’m counting on it,” Fannah replied, staring at Tazi with her ice-white eyes.

  Tazi squeezed the blind woman’s hand briefly and smiled. She released her grip, and a Child of Ibrandul escorted Fannah off in the same direction that the wounded novice was taken.

  “We’ll be back soon,” Tazi called after Fannah. Then she added in a whisper, “You can count on it.”

  Steorf and the Lurker walked over to where she stood watching Fannah’s retreating form.

  “Shall we?” the Lurker said, making a slow gesture in a different direction.

  Steorf was clearly still angry at the turn of events, but Tazi could see he was holding his tongue—at least for the moment.

  “Please,” Tazi replied, nodding in agreement.

  The Lurker moved in front of them and led the two down a side passage.

  “I didn’t even see this hall before,” Tazi quietly told Steorf.

  He leaned toward her slightly and replied, “They’ve rather ingeniously used the rockwork to their advantage. Unless you knew where the opening was or you were standing at just the right angle, the entrance would look like just more shadowed rock.”

  The senior priest took them around a turn and down a short tunnel that led to a smaller antechamber. In the center of the room was a well-built oak table that would comfortably seat twenty, worn to a deep patina in many areas. The room was lit by thick candles and a few, subtle glow spells. All along the walls were shelves and shelves of books and scrolls. Tazi saw various maps hanging along some of the few free spaces and wondered if they were for the subterranean tunnels that Fannah had told them littered Calimport Muzad. Before she could get a closer look, seven of the Children of Ibrandul came in, and one set about rolling up all the open scrolls and putting them away.

  “Friendly folk,” Steorf whispered to Tazi.

  “It’s not as though we’ve given them much to trust,” she replied.

  Her eye was caught by a small tapestry that the Children of Ibrandul had left in place.

  Within the intricate pattern, Tazi was able to see that some kind of a maze was depicted. She shook her head to herself as she tried to trace the way out of the maze.

  I feel just as twisted and lost, she thought. Not sure who to trust in this room and not sure who to doubt.

  “Everyone be seated,” the Lurker said.

  He took the chair at the head of the table. Tazi and Steorf sat to his right, and the other Children of Ibrandul sat in various positions around them.

  “It is obvious,” the priest began without preamble, “that this necromancer must be stopped. You two have mentioned that he is responsible for several deaths.”

  “Yes,” Tazi added. “He killed one friend of mine and at least a few other innocents, and he means to kill Fannah as well.”

  She directed the last comment to everyone at the table, hoping they would understand the severity of the situation.

  “For what purpose, however, you are not sure. Is that true?” one of the Children of Ibrandul asked.

  “This man is evil. It’s that simple,” Steorf replied. “Whatever his purpose is, you can assume it will be monstrous, because it will be a reflection of him.”

  “A person’s actions do reflect his spirit,” one of the novices agreed, giving Steorf a long glance.

  “It would still be advantageous to know the scope of his plans,” the Lurker added.

  He swept a stern look at the Children of Ibrandul, obviously not intending to tolerate their input.

  “Knowing his intention would give us a clue as to where he is now or, perhaps, where he will be at some later point,” Tazi added.

  “I have a feeling that time is running out for you,” the Lurker intoned.

  “I think you’re right,” Tazi agreed. “Do you have any idea where he might be and how this connects to Ibrandul? Any idea at all?”

  “I cannot even fathom a guess. Perhaps he has hidden himself in the tunnels here. After all, the Skulking God protects those in the lower depths, so he might be depending on that protection. It is impossible for me to say anything with much certainty.”

  “Then we’re right back where we started,” Tazi complained.

  “We should get Fannah,” Steorf interjected, “and try another avenue.”

  “You are quick to act,” the Mysterious Lurker remarked. “Just because we don’t know where Ciredor is now doesn’t mean there isn’t a way to discover his location.”

  “Is your power strong enough to find him here?” Tazi asked.

  “No, child,” he apologized, “but I know where you should go to seek out your answers.”

  “Where would that be?” Steorf asked.

  “You will need strong, magical means to divine his plans and his lair. The only chance I believe you will have to find this man in time is if you go to the Dark Bazaar.”

  Tazi saw Steorf stiffen when the Lurker mentioned “strong, magical means.” She knew he was not going to tolerate many more comments like those or the subtle jibes and looks that the other Children of Ibrandul were casting at him. She didn’t think the Lurker was intentionally insulting him, but Tazi was certain that was how Steorf perceived the conversation, and she knew his pride was severely wounded.

  “What is the Dark Bazaar?” she asked the priest.

  “Didn’t your Calishite companion tell you about it?” the Lurker inquired solicitously.

  “There’s been too much to see,” Tazi explained, “and too little time since we arrived, I’m afraid, to learn all the secrets of Calimport.”

  The Lurker directed a severe look around the room and settled back in his seat.

  He must not abide interruptions very well, Tazi thought, though he has tolerated our errors in judgment and etiquette.

  “No one knows how the Dark Bazaars originated,” the Lurker began with a slight smile, “but they have existed for many years.”

  “Is this some kind of night market?” Tazi asked. “In Selgaunt, there is always commerce going on to some degree, no matter the hour. Considering the size of Calimport, I would expect the same.”

  She had already forgotten her observation regarding the priest’s tolerance of interruptions, but he seemed unperturbed by her question.

  “While there are more and more night markets these days that take up business in the same locations as the permanent day bazaars, this is something different.”

  Steorf crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his chair. Tazi knew the position well. This was always the way he sat when he felt someone was spinning a story for him. He had struck the pose with her on more than one occasion over the years when her accounts of personal derring-do reached mythical proportions. She wished he wasn’t so opposed to their dealing with the cultists. While under their roof, she felt the need to overcompensate for his rudeness.

  “Go on,” she urged, recognizing that the Lurker was passing along vital information, not some tavern tale.

  “The Dark Bazaar is not populated by the common people. There are beings in attendance from not only all of Faerûn, but from other planes as well. I’ve been told that even some elementals can be found there.”

  “You’ve been told? Then you yourself have never been there,” Steorf observed.

  “No, I have not. The way to the Dark Bazaar is a difficult one and I have never had the need to attempt it.”

  “How do you know I will be able to find what I need there?” Tazi asked.

  “I don’t know for certain, but I do believe it is your best chance. The few words ever recorded about the bazaar speak of fantastic items—like dream vapor bottles or elven kiira—up for barter, but the most common item traded there is knowledge.”

  “Barter?” asked Tazi.

  “Yes,” the Lurker answered. “Barter is the only way to exchange items or secrets. As far as I know, there is really only one rule to the bazaar: One can only trade equal value for equal value. You can only ask
or trade for one thing. The advantage, so they say, is that information gained there is always reliable.”

  “What happens after the transaction is concluded?” Steorf questioned.

  “As I am led to believe,” the priest replied carefully, “you are then escorted from the bazaar.”

  “By who?” Tazi asked.

  “Again,” the Lurker adjusted his robes almost nervously, “I do not know for certain. Most believe, however, that the bazaar is managed by the Temple of Old Night.”

  “The Temple of Old Night?” Tazi inquired.

  “It belongs to Shar,” Steorf answered.

  “That is correct,” the Lurker said with a small note of surprise in his voice. “You know of the Temple of Old Night?”

  “I know some,” Steorf answered mysteriously.

  Tazi watched the two men closely. She had also been surprised that Steorf was familiar with the Temple of Old Night, but her admiration of his knowledge was quickly turning to exasperation. She could see that he wanted to play games of bravado with the Lurker and this was not the time. It looked like the Lurker was up for the challenge.

  “Does it matter who runs the bazaar?” Tazi asked, interrupting their staring match.

  “It’s always wise to know what you’re walking into,” Steorf answered, keeping his eyes fixed on the Lurker.

  “As much as you can, at any rate,” the priest added.

  The Children of Ibrandul remained silent, and Tazi saw that several kept their eyes lowered.

  “If this is the best chance we have,” Tazi decided, “then it is the one we have to take.”

  “I can not think of a better one,” the Lurker agreed. “I have a vested interest in this as well. I and the other Children of Ibrandul do not want our faith sullied by any dark rite.”

  “How do we get there?” Tazi inquired, ready to get on the move.

  “The way is rather perilous, and only the most skillful find the entrance,” the Lurker explained. “Because we are as concerned about stopping Ciredor as you are, I am going to have three of the Children of Ibrandul accompany you through the tunnels. They can take you to where the last Dark Bazaar was held and follow the signs to where the new one will most likely be.”

 

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