Sands of the Soul s-5

by Voronica Whitney-Robinson

  Not budging from his spot, Steorf said, "If his own god couldn't save him, perhaps he wasn't meant to be saved."

  Tazi bit off the angry retort hanging on her tongue. She realized that Steorf was just as exhausted as she was, if not more so, and had the added burden of knowing that he might actually have been able to save Asraf.

  Tazi stood up as if in a dream and began to walk around the chamber again. She glanced from Asraf to the many bodies of the aranea. Slowly a thought began to grow.

  "This isn't right," she said.

  " 'There is no right or wrong in the darkness,' " Steorf quoted the dead Child of Ibrandul bitterly.

  "That's what I mean," she replied. "This is exactly the kind of enemy his god was supposed to save him from. Asraf was one of the most dedicated people I've ever come across. You could hear it in the way he talked about his faith."

  She stood in front of Steorf and pointed to Asraf's unmoving form.

  "He should have been protected," she said, "and he wasn't."

  Seizing on that thread, Tazi rapidly searched the tunnel. She turned over every corpse and discovered they were all aranea-monstrous spiders that could transform themselves into the likeness of drow or other humanoid creatures to confuse and intimidate their prey. These were intelligent creatures that couldn't have just been creeping around in the dark at random, for no reason at all. The whole mission had been puzzling her, and the pieces were falling into place.

  "The other two Children of Ibrandul aren't here," she said slowly.

  Steorf stood up and surveyed the room.

  "I don't think they even followed us in here," he said.

  Tazi balled up her hand and thumped the wall with the bottom of her fist.

  "That's what they were arguing about in the last cavern," she realized.

  "Those scheming bastards were trying to decide which trap to send us down," Steorf added bitterly.

  Tazi's faced blanched.

  "And they've got Fannah. They separated us right from the start," Tazi realized sickly, "and led us down the wrong path. And we went."

  "We'll get her back," he vowed, "even if it has to be over every one of their rotting bodies."

  He started to storm back the way they had come, but Tazi caught him by the arm and pulled him to a stop.

  "I don't think they're entirely to blame," she told him.

  "What?" Steorf said, shocked that she could even consider that. "Are you sure you're fully recovered?"

  "Remember Asraf's last words? He said he didn't believe we were evil."

  "So?" he answered, too angry to follow her train of thought.

  "That must mean that the others do believe we're evil. Someone got to those Children of Ibrandul and spun a vicious lie for them so he could use them for his own devices," she explained. "I know of only one man capable of that: Ciredor."

  "You think he manipulated them?" Steorf asked, cooling somewhat.

  "I know it," she answered with absolute certainty.

  Before Steorf could say anything else, a hooded figure dressed entirely in gray robes moved out of the deepest shadows of the cavern. The figure was as tall as Steorf but neither he nor Tazi could distinguish if the figure was even human, let alone male or female. They held their ground as it approached, but Tazi's left hand slid down to the hilt of one of her guardblades.

  "Who are you?" she called out to the figure when it was about ten feet away.

  "Lady," the figure began in a deep and resonating voice, "I have come to call for you."

  The Gray Caller slowly raised one arm draped in smoky hues and pointed at Tazi.

  She could tell Steorf was tensing up, at the ready.

  "What do you want from me?" she asked, as the Caller had made no overtly threatening moves against them.

  "Lady," the Caller answered, "in seeing through those things that were deceiving you, you earned my attention as a worthy soul. I have come to offer an invitation and my services."

  "An invitation to what?" she inquired as she took a step away from Steorf.

  "I am here to escort you to the Dark Bazaar, if you care to go," the Gray Caller replied.

  "I do very much wish to go," Tazi answered, after considering the figure's words and trusting her intuition.

  As she and Steorf both approached the Caller, the figure made no move to lead them anywhere, and held its ground.

  "The invitation is only for you, Lady," the Caller explained.

  Tazi turned to Steorf and clasped his hands.

  "Stay here, and I'll be back as quickly as I can," she told him. "You should be safe enough. The other Children of Ibrandul have probably left us for dead."

  "How can you trust this thing after what just happened?" he asked her.

  "It feels right," she explained, releasing his hands. "Trust me."

  Turning to face the Gray Caller she said, "I'm ready."

  "This way, Lady," the figure said, and motioned to the far end of the cavern.

  As they slowly walked together, Tazi turned to the Caller and remarked, "There isn't some set road one could follow as the Children of Ibrandul led me to believe. This is the only true way into the Night Market, isn't it?"

  The Caller nodded, and she tried to catch a glimpse under the hood but she was unable to see anything other than more shadows.

  "Only those who are invited may enter the Dark Bazaar to trade secret for secret. Only those who can see through deception or prove themselves worthy in some other manner are ever invited. Your insight serves you well when you let it."

  *****

  Steorf debated with himself for a few moments before he decided to follow them. He broke into a trot and nearly caught up to Tazi and her guide.

  "Tazi," he called out.

  When she didn't turn around he reached out to grab her shoulder, but his hand passed through thin air. Both Tazi and the Gray Caller had disappeared.

  CHAPTER 9

  THE DARK BAZAAR

  Tazi couldn't believe her eyes. The Gray Caller had simply rounded a brief corner in the tunnel, and it opened up into an eerie, twilight market. She stopped in her tracks.

  Tazi thought that the cavern was larger than any she had ever seen. Somewhere in the distance she could hear the steady drip of water. Even in her wonder, she realized that her perceptions were somewhat skewed.

  The whole area was distorted by a light mist that covered everything. When she looked down at herself, her semi-nude arms had a faint purple tinge to them. The Gray Caller appeared almost black, with a red cast to its cloak. From where they stood, she could hear the low murmur of many voices, but they were indistinct. There were shadowy forms, but she couldn't make out any people. Tazi knew there was only a fine line between reality and illusion in this place.

  "Is this it?" she asked quietly.

  The Gray Caller nodded.

  Tazi started to pick her way down through the winding stalagmites to the main chamber. She felt strangely apprehensive descending the natural stone staircase, like a young woman making her debut into society when all eyes are upon her. But there was no fanfare and no gawking admirers or even the crueler sort waiting for a slipup.

  Slightly disorientated by the muted quality of the place, she could hear her own footsteps, but they seemed very distant. Small rocks gave way under her feet, and she knew the stones fell, but she didn't quite hear the clatter they made. Tiny pinpricks of light twinkled sporadically around her.

  Moving through here is like walking alone in a field of snow, she thought.

  When Tazi reached what she assumed was the floor, she could just begin to separate different shapes in the fog. Stalagmites and stalactites formed natural partitions, and the pockets they shaped littered the huge grotto. Tazi could see small groups of figures, made hazy by the halo of candlelight in each that she passed.

  There was more.

  As she approached the "stalls," Tazi heard the voices more clearly, but the languages were all different. Having grown up in a city of commerce, she recog
nized the tone of the various conversations and knew that bargains were being struck, but as she neared a stall close enough to peek in and snatch a glimpse of the occupants, suddenly the language switched to Common and made perfect sense to her. Her eyes grew wide.

  "How can that be?" she asked her escort.

  The figure walked just a pace behind her down through the cavern as though it was her shadow-and she wasn't the only one with a shade in her wake.

  Many folk wandered around with their own Gray Callers trailing after. Tazi watched as one Caller faded into the background after its guest was seated with another trader and played no further role in the bargaining. Tazi suspected that was one of the rules of the marketplace.

  "Here there are no barriers, not even language, to stop the trading," the Caller explained. "We leave your choice of partners entirely up to you."

  As they walked past a stall, Tazi gasped in awe. A very elderly man with long, white hair, with a moustache and a beard to match, was deep in a serious conversation. It was his companion that had startled her.

  The man was talking to a very large, very angry black dragon. Tazi was able to catch bits and pieces of their discussion.

  "I don't know how Storm Silverhand convinced me to try and deal with thee," the older man sputtered, "but I do have a hard time denying her any request, even one like this."

  The dragon flexed its wings furiously.

  Before Tazi could hear the obviously irate dragon's reply, the Gray Caller subtly moved her along. As soon as she was unable to see the two, their words became undecipherable again.

  "I would have liked to have heard what a dragon had to say about anything," she told the Caller a trifle wistfully.

  The wraithlike figure was silent. Judging by that response to her curiosity, she figured that unless she was an active participant in the discussion, she wasn't allowed to linger. Nevertheless, it was still hard to resist.

  As she progressed deeper into the Dark Bazaar, she found that there were many sights to distract her. Some of the dealers were humans and creatures that she was able to recognize, but not all of them were. Tazi saw several humans arguing over what looked like an infant no more than a few tendays old, and she couldn't resist slowing her pace to see more, regardless of what the Caller might think.

  The baby was on the center of the table and at first Tazi thought the child had very strange tattoos all over her body. As she approached the debating consortium, Tazi realized that the baby was not lying on the table so much as she was reclining on it, and it was the tiny creature who was directing the flow of conversation.

  A closer inspection revealed that the marks on her body weren't tattoos at all. Every place on her body that should have had a fold of skin had a rosy crack instead. Her entire torso was crisscrossed with the bloody lines. The creature's eyes and lips, as well as her eyelids, were a bright red. Tazi shivered at the odd spectacle.

  "Who is able to make all of this possible?" Tazi asked in awe.

  "That is not for me to say," the Gray Caller advised her. "I and the others simply lead those worthy enough here and maintain the sanctity of the Dark Bazaar."

  "But you must answer to some power," she continued.

  The Gray Caller stopped and raised its hand.

  "We are a part of something Faer?n does not even have a name for yet. Save your questions for your own bargain, Thazienne Uskevren," it warned her, "and don't waste them on me. I do not deal."

  Chastised, Tazi moved from the Caller's side and walked farther along. Each step she took revealed more and more stalls and intimate nooks. Tazi noticed that the Gray Caller continued to follow her discreetly. She gave up questioning her companion for the time being and realized that she was on her own.

  Passing another heated discussion between a distinguished looking man with a receding hairline and a beard with a single gray streak and a woman whose crimson cloak announced her as a Red Wizard of Thay where the only word Tazi heard was "Waterdeep," Tazi saw an old woman sitting alone behind a rickety table in another stall.

  Tazi thought she looked a little like the fortunetellers that performed at the fairs that occasionally played in Selgaunt. The woman's abrupt movements reminded Tazi of a bird, and she was struck by the familiarity of the gesture.

  Where have I seen that before? she thought.

  She filed that away for future pondering.

  She looks like she's from Calimport, Tazi reasoned, so perhaps I should start here.

  "Well," she said to the Gray Caller, "she's the only person I could say I even vaguely recognize and connect with."

  "The choice," the figure replied, "is always and only yours, lady."

  She nodded curtly to the figure and strode over to join the woman. Tazi realized that she had grossly underestimated the woman's age. The misty effects of the Dark Market had softened the stranger's features. As Tazi approached the woman, she was shocked to see that the stranger was covered with lines, but these were common wrinkles, albeit plentiful, nothing like the crimson lines on the infant she had passed earlier. The woman's hair was mostly white, with only the occasional strand of black, and it hung loosely below her waist. Her skin had a leathery appearance, and Tazi thought it might split open at any moment. Her clothing was decidedly Calishite but was extremely faded and even torn in a few places. The only word that came to Tazi's mind as she sized up the woman was "weathered."

  At the hushed sound of Tazi's footsteps, the wizened Calishite looked up. Her eyes were a dull brown, but Tazi detected a hint of shrewdness in them.

  "May I join you?" Tazi asked.

  "For now," the aged woman answered.

  Tazi drew up a chair and looked hopefully at the woman across from her. A few moments passed, and Tazi realized her companion was not going to speak first.

  "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do," Tazi finally admitted.

  "Then perhaps you should leave," the Calishite suggested in a cracked voice.

  Just listening to her speak made Tazi thirsty.

  "I've traveled a long way," Tazi informed her. "Too long a way to turn around and leave now."

  "Little girl, I don't think you know the meaning of a long way," the crone cackled.

  "Maybe I don't," she conceded, "and again, you could be wrong about that."

  The aged Calishite nodded.

  "I could be," she told Tazi ruefully, "and it wouldn't be the first mistake I've ever made."

  "So you're saying that you're open to possibilities?" Tazi said.

  The older woman leaned her head back carefully and began to laugh. Buried beneath the arid chuckle, Tazi could hear a lilt to the other woman's voice that was almost beautiful.

  I wonder what she looked like when she was younger? Tazi speculated.

  "You're staring," the woman noticed.

  "I'm sorry. I'm just curious," Tazi answered.

  "Curiosity can be a curse," the Calishite said in a parched tone, "and one often pays enormously for the luxury."

  "Sooner or later," Tazi replied ominously, "we all pay, don't we?"

  The elder woman regarded Tazi carefully.

  "You have learned a few lessons, haven't you?"

  "A few in my lifetime, and they've been costly ones," Tazi told her in a voice absent of bravado.

  "It took me an eternity to learn mine," the Calishite said mostly to herself, "and I only had to give up the thing I loved best."

  She seemed lost for a moment, and Tazi wasn't sure how to proceed, but the woman soon shook herself from her daydreams.

  Or are they nightmares? Tazi pondered.

  "So, little girl, have you come for a story, perhaps, or have you come to learn the secrets of the Calim desert?" she crackled.

  "I have come for something very important," Tazi began, "but I don't know what form it will take."

  "The rules are simple here, gharab," the Calishite explained. "You get to buy one treasure. What form that treasure takes depends on you. It can be a map, a gem, a dagger-" she paused and leaned
across the spindly table to whisper-"or a secret."

  Tazi thought the elder woman had sand lodged in her throat, the last part was so raspy.

  "I'm not sure what it is I need," Tazi offered lamely.

  The woman sat back abruptly and snapped, "Move along then, little girl. This market is not for tourists but those who come to deal. I don't have time to take you by the hand and lead you to water."

  "Look," Tazi snapped, "this is life and death I'm dealing with, and all I want to do is not make a mistake. I want to do the right thing."

  "All of this," the woman gestured to the room and beyond, "is about life and death. Sometimes you can make all the right choices and still lose. You'd do well to remember that.

  "Now," she continued rapidly, "tell me quick: What is it you want?"

  "There is a necromancer I believe is from Calimport. You might know of him and you might not. His name is Ciredor."

  Tazi paused to see if the woman showed any sign of recognition. The wrinkled woman's face gave nothing away.

  She grew frustrated and blurted out, "I need to know what he's up to!"

  She waited breathlessly, but the woman didn't answer her question.

  "You will have to pay for that," she informed Tazi.

  Tazi was once again reminded how dry the woman sounded and looked. It was as though she had weathered a lifetime in the desert. The old woman looked at her expectantly.

  Tazi rummaged through the small, outer pocket attached to her leather pants near her thigh. She withdraw a handful of "suns" and stacked them on the table. The metal made a muffled thud when it struck the wood. Tazi once again marveled how everything about the market sounded hushed. The older woman spilled the column and sifted through Tazi's coins with a withered finger before leaning back in her chair.

  "These coins," she motioned to the pile of gold, "are not the things you value."

  "It's all I have with me," Tazi apologized, suddenly fearful that she had traveled this perilous route for naught. "I don't have anything else to offer."

  "That's where you are wrong," the old Calishite answered with a glint in her brown eyes. "The rule is equal treasure for equal treasure. What you ask is invaluable to you, isn't it?"