The Temple of Elemental Evil

by Thomas M. Reid

  “No,” Shanhaevel replied, shaking his head. “You don’t understand. I don’t think they were really here. I felt their presence through this.” Again, he gestured at the golden skull still clasped in his hand. Subtle waves of nausea seemed to wash over him whenever he was reminded that he still held it. “She definitely wasn’t really here, and I don’t think he was either.”

  “How do you know?” Elmo asked as Shirral knelt beside Shanhaevel and took his free hand in hers.

  “I know she wasn’t here because I know she’s still trapped, sealed behind the doors. I don’t think he was actually here because she wasn’t here. Besides, in this vision, I was somewhere else—some temple with a great throne made of black stone. I think it was a vision triggered by touching this wretched thing.”

  Blanching, Shanhaevel shoved the golden skull back into its form-fitting pocket and slammed the box lid closed. Instantly he felt great relief.

  “How do you know all of this, all of a sudden?” Shirral asked. She was huddled close to Shanhaevel and caressed his face soothingly. Worry filled her eyes, and her mouth frowned in a way the wizard had never seen before.

  “Because it told me,” Shanhaevel replied, closing his eyes and suddenly feeling very weary. The druid’s caresses were cool and gentle against his skin, washing away the last of the taint of evil still lurking in his being.

  “It … it told you?” Govin gasped, obviously disturbed. “It speaks? We must find those gems and destroy this thing soon!”

  Shanaevel opened his mouth to answer, but just then there was a deep rumble that reverberated all around them. The ground shook as shock waves rattled the chapel and sent dust cascading from the walls.

  “What on Oerth was that?” Draga growled, his legs braced wide to hold his balance.

  Shanhaevel imagined his face must have been a pale personification of his own fright, for when Shirral returned his look, her eyes widened in fear. When he spoke, his words were soft.

  “I don’t know.”

  Hedrack moved forward eagerly, ignoring the dust that hung in the air of the demolished stairway. The swirling, floating detritus was so impenetrable that the high priest was unsure if the blast had, in fact, demolished the magical portal. Pushing past chunks of stone, he worked his way down the steps, moving closer, determined to find out. When he reached the bottom of the stairway where the great doors had once stood, there was nothing. The last few steps had been destroyed, leaving only a scarred and shattered hole in the floor. The walls to either side had been ripped away, and a large portion of the ceiling had collapsed. Where the magically sealed doors had once stood, barring passage or even approach, there was now only a great gaping hole. Beyond, Hedrack could see a portion of the dirt floor of the Temple of Earth.

  The high priest grinned in delight. “Yes,” he murmured softly. “Excellent. Her power must be returning now, with one of the four sundered.” He turned back to face his small retinue of experts, including the wizard Falrinth.

  “You will begin preparing for the destruction of the second door. Prepare the one at the front entrance. I am going to visit the chamber of light and speak with her.”

  Falrinth bowed low as the rest of the men and humanoids scurried to carry out the high priest’s orders. “We will assemble the oil and flash powder at once,” he said, genuine eagerness evident in his own voice. “I will prepare the door first, then send for you when we are ready.”

  Hedrack nodded absently, immersed in thoughts of the glory that would be his once she was freed. Iuz would laud him with praise and power for certain. “Yes,” he said at last, “when you are ready.”

  With that, he returned to the main temple below, dismissing Falrinth and the others with a casual wave of his hand.

  When he reached the chamber of light, he passed through the pearly column of illumination and seated himself upon the throne.

  The bonds are slipping away, she said, startling Hedrack. She had never spoken first during their contacts before. It feels so good. Free me! I want to rise, to roam my halls once more and scour the land.

  We hurry, my lady, Hedrack replied, amazed at how aware the demoness was. He was pleased. With the destruction of the first doorway, her power was returning to her, and her awareness with it. The next portal will fall in a matter of hours.

  Hurry! I feel others seeking me, seeking my death.

  They are of no consequence, the high priest projected soothingly. They cannot muster the wherewithal to do more than annoy. We will be triumphant.

  Fool! she radiated malevolently. They have the key, the golden key! They can destroy me with it. You must recover it, for it is the power of this temple. Without it, we can never fully command the elements.

  Hedrack did not answer immediately. Her vehemence startled him, made him mentally retreat from her. He sat for a moment in thought, contemplating what her ire meant, what changes would exist in the power structure of the temple once she was freed. A decade ago, he had been nothing, a minor servant in the cause of the temple, charged with trivial duties. She had never taken notice of him, and she did not know him now. Would she respect his position as commander of the temple once she was returned to power, or would she seek out others, those whom she considered to be more loyal, more trustworthy? He did not relish the idea of surrendering his position of authority. The situation would require careful cultivation. He would speak to Iuz about it, he decided.

  Realizing he had not answered the demoness, Hedrack hastily projected, The orb will be recovered from the interlopers. They will fall and become sacrifices to the elements, as have all others who have come to oppose the might of the Elemental Temple. I will see to it personally.

  Yes, she replied. See to it personally. They must not be allowed to enter my sanctuary with the key. The danger to me would be great.

  I understand and obey, Hedrack acknowledged. He arose from the throne then, not wanting to give the demoness another opportunity to find fault with any of his actions. Frowning, he strode out of the chamber and up the stairs toward the greater temple, pondering the machinations he would have to put into motion to ensure his position would remain intact.

  Shanhaevel’s view was far away from his body, drifting effortlessly over the deep snow of the surface, near the front doors of the temple. A spell made it possible, one in which he could see things far away—an invisible eye he guided with a thought. He peered toward the front doors of the temple. What he saw made him gasp. A crowd had gathered, standing back from the front of the temple. He recognized at least one of the men as Falrinth. The wizard seemed to be directing some sort of invisible magical force, moving a large quantity of kegs to the great door. The kegs already there were stacked against the portal, and additional ones were being added to the pile.

  Shanhaevel recognized the magical forces as more of the invisible constructs he had spotted in the chamber near the flaming fountain—magical servants, shapeless beings that could carry out simple commands. They were stacking something against the door without seeming to be affected by its powerful warding magic. When the last keg was placed atop the pile, one of the invisible servants removed the lid. Shanhaevel couldn’t hear what was being said, but Falrinth had turned to talk to another—a man in black armor with a hideous helm. Embroidered on the back of the man’s cloak was the skull of Iuz.

  Shanhaevel shivered. Iuz the terrible joining forces with a trapped demon! The elf was beginning to think this whole expedition was a horrible mistake. We should go. Get out of here right now. They’re too powerful. Too strong. If we got far enough away, the temple wouldn’t affect us.

  The man in the dark armor nodded, and he and everyone else stepped back even farther from the doors. Falrinth cast. Shanhaevel watched the wizard with a critical eye, trying to determine what was about to happen.

  “What’s going on?” Ahleage hissed from somewhere beyond, back in the chapel where Shanhaevel’s body sat. “What’s happening?”

  Suddenly, the elf recognized the spell Fal
rinth was conjuring, and he realized with terrible certainty what was about to happen.

  “Oh, Boccob!” Shanhaevel muttered. “They’re going to destroy the doors!”

  Falrinth completed his spell and sprinted in the opposite direction, retreating from the doors as a small, streaking cinder went flying toward the stack of kegs. There was a sudden concussive blast accompanied by a blossoming ball of fire that was quickly overwhelmed by an even larger and more destructive detonation.

  Shanhaevel felt the blast as it occurred, even though in reality he was far away. As before, it shook the temple to its foundations. Chunks of stone, earth, and wood exploded with vehemence. The particles of what had once been the front of the temple showered down upon the surrounding woods.

  “That cannot be!” Thrommel whispered fiercely as the vibrations faded. “The warding magic of those doors is too powerful. It was placed there to prevent just such an occurrence. There should be no way to destroy them.”

  “Perhaps there shouldn’t be,” Shanhaevel said, “but that’s exactly what they just did. They intend to destroy all of the doors and free the demon.”

  “Well, then, we’ve got to stop them!” Elmo growled.

  Shanhaevel nodded and released his hold on the spell, bringing his frame of reference back to the chapel once more. “Yes,” the wizard replied, blinking as he adjusted to the difference in lighting. “Forget the gems. We must stop them before they destroy another door.”

  “Yes, but how are we to find where they will strike next?” Shirral asked. “We don’t know where the other doors are.”

  “I do,” Thrommel said quietly.

  Everyone looked at the prince.

  “I was there when the doors were sealed,” he explained. “Shanhaevel, you were observing them working on the front doors, right?”

  The elf nodded.

  “Start there, once we leave this place. You must go to the surface and track them down from there. I can leave first, as I suggested before, and hopefully lead any threats away. You follow. Get to the great temple just inside those outer doors. Follow the large staircases. Each door gives way to another, deeper in the temple structure. Eventually, you will find one that they haven’t destroyed yet.”

  “We can waste no more time,” Govin said. “We are rested. We must depart at once.”

  “Give me a few moments, then follow,” Thrommel repeated. “Just tell me the way out.”

  An idea occurred to Shanhaevel. “Hold on,” he said, reaching for his pack once more and rummaging through it. He retrieved the rolled-up map he had found in Falrinth’s chambers, the one with the dangerous glyph on it that he had removed from the wall. “Perhaps this can help,” the elf said as he unrolled the parchment. “When I was studying it before, some of it looked familiar. Give me a moment to remove the explosive symbol.”

  “If you’re going to do that in here, I’m going in there,” Ahleage said as he retreated into the other room. The rest of the group and the prince moved a safe distance, as well.

  Shanhaevel pinned the corners of the map down with things from his pack. Careful to avoid looking directly at anything written on the map, he cast a magical dispelling, similar to the one Shirral had used to free Ahleage from the effects of the illusory basilisk. Muttering the words of the spell, he centered the magic on the map and released the energy bound there, and a portion of the markings disappeared.

  “All right!” Shanhaevel called out, studying the map. “It’s safe to come see now.”

  The group clustered around the large sheet of parchment, examining it carefully. It did not take them long to determine that it was, indeed, a depiction of some of the temple. It included Falrinth’s chambers, plus most of what the Alliance had traversed to reach the chapel, although it did not show the chapel itself. Shanhaevel traced the path backward from where they were now to Falrinth’s and the tunnel to the well beyond, showing Thrommel how to return to the surface. The prince studied the route carefully for a few moments, then stood up to leave.

  “I cannot stay to aid you, though I consider the cause worthy enough. I must return to Furyondy and to Jolene, but I will get word to Burne. He will know what is happening here. Find Falrinth and stop him, then destroy the orb. The people of many lands are counting on you. May the hand of Cuthbert guide you to victory.”

  With that, the prince slipped out of the hidden chapel and was gone, leaving the Alliance to seal the secret door behind him.

  The group sat for a moment, letting the prince’s words sink in and giving the royal progeny time to get ahead of them. Then it was time to go. The companions gathered their gear and prepared to set out.

  “Let’s hope he was successful in luring the spider-shadow away,” Govin said. “May Cuthbert go with him. Let’s go find that wizard.”

  With Govin leading the way, the Alliance slipped into the darkness beyond.

  The horrid undead thing that had resulted from Lareth’s death was nowhere to be found. Shanhaevel watched every shadow as the group retraced its steps back along the path. The elf could only imagine what horrors prowled through these passages when the temple flourished ten years ago. He was surprised that so much of the place was empty now, and yet, he was grateful, too.

  The companions managed to return to the tunnels between the well and the tower without incident, but as they reached the cavern, Govin hesitated.

  “Which way should we go?” he asked as everyone else passed through the secret door. “I imagine either direction will be watched.”

  Frowning, Shanhaevel nodded. “You’re right,” the elf said, considering. “But I have something that just might solve that problem. Come on.”

  The companions moved toward the well, and just before they reached the door leading into the side of the shaft, the wizard gathered everyone together in a small group and gathered the magic forces within him. He summoned the arcane energies and cloaked the group in them, causing the Alliance to disappear from view.

  “Hey!” Ahleage said. “That’s pretty damned handy.”

  Slowly, so as not to bump or trip one another, the group made their way into the well. Ahleage moved up the shaft to the top and peered over the lip.

  “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” he whispered, “although they could be hiding in the barn or the ruins of the house.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Elmo called back up. “Let’s just get to the temple.”

  “Wait!” Shanhaevel said, then called out to Ormiel.

  Friend! the hawk greeted. You hide beneath the ground a long time.

  Yes, the elf replied. Are you well?

  Hungry, the hawk projected. Hunting food.

  Do others prowl the woods? Any bad things?

  No. Not for a while.

  “Ormiel says nothing is around, but just to be safe, let’s go through the woods instead of taking the path.”

  Holding onto one another so as not to lose track of each person’s position, the group moved up and out of the well into bright daylight. They avoided the barn and ruined farmhouse, choosing instead to cross the small open space between it and the woods. Leaving footprints in the half-melted snow, they picked their way through the woods, finding the going slow because of their invisibility. More than once, someone stepped on another’s heel or bumped into the back of a companion who halted without warning.

  Eventually, however, they reached the temple. Stopping at the opening that had once been the main gate in the long-ruined wall, they stopped and peered around, checking for guards. There were none to be found, which surprised Shanhaevel.

  “They’ve blown away the front door,” the wizard pondered aloud, “and yet they don’t set some sort of watch?”

  When they were satisfied nothing was going to attack, they filed inside, passing through the gaping hole that had once been the sealed doors. Inside, they examined the place thoroughly. They stood within a vestibule, which opened to the nave of the temple. It still appeared that no one was about, so Shanhaevel dispell
ed their invisibility so that everyone could function normally again.

  The whole place was garishly decorated with vile scenes. The floor of the vestibule was set with reddish brown slate squares, and the walls were plastered and painted with images of murder, destruction, enslavement, and even worse deeds that made Shanhaevel blanch and turn away. He realized this was the place from his vision, when he had held the skull key.

  Beyond the vestibule, in the main part of the temple, the floor was set in greenish stones. The light streaming through the high, narrow stained-glass windows that flanked the main entryway fell upon that green, creating a ghastly mixture of hues that hurt the eyes.

  “By Cuthbert, what vileness!” Govin breathed, clenching his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Why didn’t they raze this place and bury it beneath the ground? It should never have been allowed to stand in even this condition.”

  “Agreed, knight,” said Elmo, shaking his head, “but they did what they could, and now we must do the same. Come on, let’s see where they went.”

  With that, Elmo turned and headed into the nave, a huge room that might have been forty paces wide and easily three times as long. Strong pillars of pinkish stone, shot through with worm-colored veins, held up the high, vaulted ceiling. They were worked in bas-relief—more images of vile and damnable acts. The companions’ footfalls echoed sharply in the place as they walked, peering this way and that. Stained-glass windows were the only source of light, though Shanhaevel wouldn’t allow his gaze to linger on any of them long enough to discern the images portrayed there.

  Ahead, Shanhaevel saw an altar cut from a large block of the pinkish marble with a depression on the top surface. As he drew nearer, he saw that the depression was in the shape of a man, legs splayed apart and arms held away from the body. The stone was stained a darker shade of red here. Shanhaevel shook his head and moved on, but Shirral, having also spotted the telltale depression, gasped and stood rooted to the spot, staring.