“How is it that you know my true name?” the wizard asked, not really surprised.
“I told you: It’s my job to know as much as I can about everyone who comes and goes.” Elmo smiled again as Shanhaevel nodded in acquiescence at the explanation. “In this case, though, there are two reasons. First: Ormiel told me. Regardless of what practical jokes your friend here likes to play—”
“I still like his nickname better,” Ahleage replied, grinning but not looking up from the dagger he was studiously examining.
“And the second one reason is: Estrumiel de sudri oltrinos—‘I, too, speak your tongue.’ ” Shanhaevel blinked in surprise, as did Shirral, but Govin only smiled. “In any event,” Elmo went on, “Govin is right. We’ve only scratched the surface of this problem. I’ve known about it for a while, but I couldn’t risk revealing myself until I was sure we could do something about it.”
Elmo gazed into the fire for several moments. His brow wrinkled, and his visage turned grim. He seemed to be gathering his courage.
“The Temple of the Elements is flourishing once again,” Elmo continued. “I have sources in Nulb, the next village to the east and the community closest to the sight of the place, that confirm this. I intend to stop it.”
Elmo looked at each of the companions.
Shanhaevel sat quietly, reflecting. Is this why I’m here? he thought. It was one thing when we were just looking for a bandit lair, but now …
Still, the elf realized, there was that warm glow he was feeling, thinking about this. These people are my friends, he reminded himself. I trust them, and they me. And Shirral. Shanhaevel looked across at the druid, who was biting her lip, a worried look on her face. This is her home, he thought. She needs my help, too.
“I’m with you,” Shanhaevel said. He had already made up his mind that he would stay and be a part of this, regardless of what Shirral did. “Well?” he asked her.
The druid gazed back at the wizard steadily, her blue eyes reflecting the flickering firelight as she studied him. Finally, she grimaced and shook her head, but she said, “All right.”
Shanhaevel smiled despite himself.
“Well, I’m not,” Ahleage growled, throwing a rock off into the trees. “This is as far as I go. Tomorrow, I ride for greener pastures. Draga, are you coming with me?”
The hairy bowman looked up from the object he was carving, which Shanhaevel now saw was a some sort of a flute or similar instrument, and frowned. “If we leave them, and they fail, who else will do this?”
“Who cares? It’s not our problem!”
“Sooner or later, it will be,” Shirral said. “If the temple grows and becomes too powerful to stop, there will be no greener pastures left.”
“I know you don’t follow my god,” Govin said. “I cannot ask you to go on faith. But I can foresee this deed being a great boon to you.”
Ahleage scowled, looking at all of them, then sighed and slumped in resignation. “Oh, what the hells. I’ll stay and help.” He glared at Draga. “Since when did you get all noble?”
Draga only smiled sheepishly and said nothing, whittling again with his knife.
“Excellent,” Elmo said. “We ride to the temple at first light.”
“Then it’s official,” Shanhaevel said. “We are an alliance.”
“No,” Govin said, smiling. “We are the Alliance. It is the name that came to me in my visions: The Alliance.”
The fire had burned low at the campsite. The night air was cool and filled with the sounds of sleeping. Only Shanhaevel, Ahleage, and Draga were awake, keeping watch. The bowman sat a little off to the side, working on his flute, occasionally playing it softly, testing it before continuing to work on it.
“Mmm,” Shanhaevel said, draining his mug as he looked up at the stars. “So, what’s your story, Ahleage?” he asked quietly. “How did you get hooked up with Melias?”
Ahleage twisted his mouth around in a pensive frown. “Well,” he said, playing with one of his ever-present daggers, “Let’s just say I was getting tired of the street life in Verbobonc. Melias and I bumped into one another one night, and he offered me a job. It was a nice change of pace, so I accepted.”
Shanhaevel chuckled. “You tried to steal something, he caught you, and then he gave you a chance to avoid going to the viscount’s dungeons if you would come with him.”
Ahleage grinned. “Well, not exactly, but close enough. My welcome was worn out back there, that’s for sure.”
Shanhaevel nodded. “What about Draga?” he asked, gesturing at the man sitting next to him. “Where’s he from?”
“I don’t know,” Ahleage answered, shrugging. “He doesn’t say much, but he’s good for a laugh or two, and he’s a damn fine shot with that bow,” he finished loudly enough that Draga heard.
The bowman looked up and smiled, then played a little melody on his flute. It was not in tune, but Shanhaevel could tell it was getting better as Draga continued to work on it.
“Yes, he is,” the elf replied, grinning.
Ahleage looked directly at the elf. “What about you? Why are you here? And what in the nine hells did Elmo mean when he called you ‘whelp of the shadow wood?’ ”
Shanhaevel sat back, thinking. “When Burne called upon Lanithaine to aid him, it seemed to go without saying that would I come, too. When Lanithaine died”—the wizard swallowed hard, thinking of the incident; it seemed so much longer ago than a few short nights—“he bade me to come without him.”
“So Burne wanted someone to come poke around the ruins of an old fort, and you just said, ‘Sure?’ ” Ahleage looked skeptical.
“Well, I didn’t know exactly what the favor would be when I agreed, but essentially, yes. It’s something I had to do for Lanithaine’s sake. And it’s what my full name actually means.”
“What?”
The elf looked at him. “My full name is Shantirel Galaerivel—‘Whelp born of the Shadow Wood’ is the truest translation, although I prefer ‘child’ to ‘whelp.’ ‘Shanhaevel’ is the short form, and it means ‘shadowchild.’ ”
“Shadowchild?” Ahleage said, looking at Shanhaevel. “Why would your parents name you that?”
Shanhaevel smiled as Ahleage reached to refill his mug from the wineskin the two of them were sharing. “Actually, I was orphaned. A woodsman found me crying one day while he was hunting. He didn’t like children very much, and it was in a deep, dark part of the Welkwood, so he gave me this unpleasant name in Elvish. He was from a community of humans and elves who managed to live together peacefully, which is how he knew the Elvish language.”
“So you don’t know who your parents were? They were never found?”
Shanhaevel shook his head. “They lived a little ways away from that community. They were slain by ettercaps, the spider people who live in the darkest part of the woods. No one is really sure how I managed to survive. Anyway,” he continued, “my aunt Soli—she’s not really my aunt, but I think of her that way—she’s an elder on the council where I grew up. Aunt Solianturel made them shorten it to Shanhaevel. Shadowchild.”
“So that’s why you call yourself Shanhaevel,” Ahleage said. “I like Shadowspawn better. Really, that’s kind of what your name means.”
Shanhaevel just shook his head in resignation. “Whatever makes you happy.”
Shanhaevel turned to look up at the night sky. He stole a glance at Shirral, sleeping on the far side of the remains of the fire, wrapped in her thick cloak.
“She likes you more than she’s admitting, you know,” Ahleage said. “You’re giving up too easily.”
Shanhaevel nearly choked on his wine. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m not stupid, and neither is anyone else. We all know how you feel about her. Believe me, I can see it in your eyes when you look at her, and it’s in her eyes, too. She’s just stubborn, that’s all.”
Shanhaevel cocked his head to one side, studying Ahleage and mulling over the man’s words. “She made it
clear I should leave.”
Ahleage snorted in derision. “That’s what she said. That’s not what she was thinking.”
Shanhaevel shook his head, but he realized he was suddenly thinking about the possibilities again.
Hedrack’s footfalls were soft against the flagstones, echoing in the near silence of the great temple chamber as the high priest of Iuz hurried toward the private chapel behind the writhing violet curtain. Once beyond the dais and in the room with three altars, Hedrack dropped to his knees and, taking a deep breath, began to pray, frowning slightly as he struggled to find the right words. It was not long before the priest felt his deity’s presence in his mind.
“My lord Iuz,” Hedrack said, the words tumbling forth. “I am your Mouth. I pronounce your wishes to the world you will tread beneath your feet.”
I sense your unease, servant. The gravelly voice inside the priest’s head grated down his spine.
Hedrack knew better than to hide this information from his master. “Yes, my lord. I bear unpleasant news. We have lost the moathouse. Lareth did manage to flee and is safe with me, but certain things were left behind that could prove troublesome.”
There was no answer, but Hedrack nonetheless felt the waves of malevolent displeasure washing through him as Iuz seethed. Despite himself, the priest shuddered, a small part of him fearing that the god’s annoyance would spill over to him.
How? Iuz finally asked, his voice more grating than ever. How did this happen?
“Lareth reported that a band of interlopers wielding substantial magic invaded the place. I’m still trying to find out the particulars.” Hedrack’s thoughts strayed to the handsome priest, bound in chains in one of his recreation rooms, awaiting his return for more questions. “I will know more soon.”
It is his doing, the god said. I warned you that he had sent meddlers to interfere. You must not take them lightly. For them to defeat one of our best commanders …”
“I understand, my lord,” Hedrack responded. He knew the group of adventurers that had managed to bring Lareth’s forces down would follow the trail to Nulb, looking for more information on the temple. Hedrack’s instructions had been clear: Destroy them when they arrived and bring their bodies to him.
What other news? Iuz asked, interrupting Hedrack’s thoughts.
“Ah, good news, my lord. We have begun to bring forth creatures from the planes. I have witnessed three, and Falrinth and my other staff have moved several more from the planes to the nodes. Our army is growing, my lord.”
Excellent, Iuz beamed. What of my beloved? Have you located her yet?
“Efforts proceed apace, my master. She remains only marginally aware, and communicating with her is arduous. She does not seem to know where she is, and thus far Falrinth’s scrying efforts have revealed little. However, we have found the key she mentioned—a golden skull, although it does not appear to be intact. There are four sockets that seem to have been designed to hold something … gems perhaps. Once Falrinth determines its workings, we will use it to free her.”
Of course! Iuz effused, waves of pleasure radiating over Hedrack from the god. She was always clever. The sockets are, indeed, designed for gems, one representing each element. This is an item of power that she and I constructed before to aid in ruling the temple. She must have attuned it to herself, somehow. Find the gems, place them in their sockets, and you find her.
“Excellent, my lord. I will notify Falrinth at once.”
You must find her! Iuz said, the insistence washing over Hedrack like a wave of cold black water. That is your main charge in my service. Discover her prison and bring her forth.
Hedrack bowed lower, touching his head to the floor before him. “I hear and obey, my master.”
With that, Iuz was gone, leaving the priest alone in the chapel, reflecting on his thoughts.
How much longer can I delay in unearthing her? he wondered.
Hedrack shook his head, dismissing the thought. He knew he would obey his god’s commands in due time. Indeed, it was the timing that was important here. Too soon, and he would lose control of the feuding factions on the levels above. Too late, and he would risk his master’s ire.
In the meantime, he had other matters to attend to, including dealing with this band of would-be heroes who had stuck their noses into something they shouldn’t have. Thinking of these cretins as he returned to his chambers, as well as having been forced to report unpleasant news to his master, had put the priest in a foul mood. When he arrived, Deus and Ahma snapped to attention and saluted him. He dismissed the ettin and unlocked his chamber door.
Stepping inside, Hedrack surveyed the room. Mika was busy straightening the place, while Astelle was stretched out upon the bed, chin in hands, a petulant pout upon her face. She had been acting this way ever since Hedrack had brought the new girl in.
Sitting in the corner, the young woman stared at Hedrack with fearful eyes, her hands and ankles bound tightly. Her dress was torn and dirty, a result of her capture by Lareth’s men the night of the field commander’s last, fateful raid on Hommlet. Her dark hair was matted about her sweaty face. Hedrack smiled at her, which caused the terrified girl to shrink back further into the corner.
There was a knock upon his door. Hedrack turned back and unlocked it, swinging it open to admit Barkinar, the commander of the temple troops and Hedrack’s second-in-command.
“We have a new batch of sacrifices,” Barkinar began, peering at Mika as she hurried to fetch a cold drink for the visitor. “I thought you would want to witness their delivery to the nodes.”
Hedrack sighed, thinking how much there was to do and how he wished at this moment to be left alone to brood. To brood and to spend time with his new plaything. He turned to look back at the young woman tied in the corner, then at Astelle, who was still flopped on the bed, not lifting a hand to aid Mika in making Barkinar comfortable. Perhaps, he thought, I could use a bit of spectacle.
“Yes,” he said to Barkinar, “I would like that very much. I will be along shortly.”
Barkinar nodded and took his leave.
Hedrack shut the door behind the man and turned to look at the girl in the corner. He strode across the room and squatted down in front of her, reveling in her terrified squirms to pull away from him. Smiling, he pulled a knife from his boot and sliced the bonds from the girl’s wrists and ankles. As she cowered, he waved his hands in front of her and spoke a few words of prayer. As the girl’s visage changed from fear to eagerness, the priest said, “Now, young thing, what is your name?”
“P-Paida,” the girl replied, beaming that he had deigned to speak to her.
“Be a good girl, then, Paida, and go to Mika. She will help you learn what is expected of you.”
Paida smiled and leaped to her feet, running to the other girl.
Hedrack turned to Astelle, who was still pouting.
“You,” he said, grabbing her by the wrist and lifting her to her feet. “You and I are going to take a walk.”
Astelle’s face brightened as she fell into step beside her master. Hedrack led her out the door, locking it behind him. As the pair of them headed toward the staging area of the nodes, Hedrack smiled, thinking that Astelle would make a fine sacrifice to one of his precious elemental creatures.
During the night, Shanhaevel had a dream. Burne came to him, the wizard’s face hovering insubstantially in front of the elf’s field of vision.
“Shanhaevel, you must remember this when you awaken. I can only assume that something terrible has befallen Melias, for I cannot reach his mind. If Elmo still lives, he will be able to explain further. It is time you and the others knew the full truth. The forces of the temple are on the rise again, and you must stop them from releasing a terrible evil, an evil we could not destroy ten years ago. I am sorry we kept this from you before. Melias and I felt it best not to reveal this until the time was right, but now, there can be no more delay.
“You must find a golden key and return it to me. I wi
ll have determined the means to destroy it by then. The key is in the form of a skull, missing its lower jaw. It contains four gems, one for each of the elements, set into the crown line at the compass points. You must infiltrate the temple ruins, discover the whereabouts of this key, and return it to me. Whatever happens, get the key. Many lives depend on your success.”
Burne’s face faded from view, and Shanhaevel’s dreams were troubled by looming golden skulls and demonic faces. When he awoke, the pink of dawn was just brightening on the horizon. Shivering, he sat up, remembering Burne’s dream message with perfect clarity. When the rest of the Alliance had awakened, the elf shared the message with them.
Elmo nodded when Shanhaevel finished. “This skull is known to me, at least somewhat. It was created during the initial rise of the temple, as an object of power. It must be the orb of gold mentioned in the poem. So we must do this. We must find this key, before it’s too late.”
“What does ‘too late’ mean?” Ahleage asked, worry on his face.
“ ‘Too late’ is when the temple leaders find this key and use it to release the demon.”
“What?” Ahleage choked. “No one said anything to me about demons last night! This is way over my head.”
“She was sealed there when the temple was defeated,” Elmo explained. “Burne, Lanithiane, and others rode with the prince to combat her at the Battle of Emridy Meadows. Their losses were heavy, and when the time came to destroy her, they were too weakened. Instead, they sealed her deep within her own lair, trapping her and making it impossible for anyone to reach her again. Except that she must have seen it coming, and somehow she attuned this object, this key, so it became the means to free her. She knew it would be only a matter of time before someone found it and unlocked the seals on her prison.”
The Temple of Elemental Evil Page 10