Falrinth stared unblinking at Shanhaevel’s face and said nothing.
Shanhaevel shook his head and tried again. “She can make the pain go away. The temple will fall, but you can serve goodness once again, as before, when you rode with Prince Thrommel. Redeem yourself. Find it in your heart to rise to goodness once more. Tell me where the gems are!”
Very faintly, almost imperceptibly, Falrinth nodded. “Hedrack,” he gasped. “Hedrack h-has them.”
Something—Shanhaevel could never explain it later—made the elf flinch back at that moment. Perhaps it was a reflection in Falrinth’s eyes, or maybe it was a rustle of cloth or the swish of a weapon through the air, but whatever it was, flinch Shanhaevel did, and it saved his life. The crushing blow of a mace that had been intended for his head instead fell upon Falrinth’s face, spattering Shanhaevel with blood. Stumbling away from the gruesome sight of the other wizard’s pulped face, the elf stared up to see Hedrack looming over him, bloody mace in hand.
“You won’t be able turn him back to goodness, now,” Hedrack said, his voice filled with malevolent glee. He took a step forward, raising his mace once more.
Elmo snarled, leaping between Shanhaevel and Hedrack, lunging into the air with his axe held high. Hedrack spun, sliding easily out of the way, and swung a fist around, pummeling Elmo in the ribs. At the same instant, Hedrack barked a single word—something Shanhaevel did not comprehend, a word of power. At the moment of contact, Elmo’s eyes went wide. He spasmed, gasped in midair, then his body went limp as he skidded across the floor. Hedrack grinned down at the axeman’s unmoving form, sniffed, and turned away again, casting another spell.
Before Shanhaevel could react, he lost track of Hedrack. His attention seemed to be forced elsewhere. One moment the high priest was standing there, and the next, Shanhaevel just didn’t care. He could still see the high priest’s movements, but it no longer mattered that Hedrack was walking across the room, retreating from him. Unable to shake off these disconcerting sensations, the wizard turned his attention back to Elmo.
Elmo lay perfectly still, his eyes staring at nothing. Shirral had already rushed to his side, rolling him over before Shanhaevel could even touch the man.
“Get up!” she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes. “Elmo, get up!”
Elmo’s still form told Shanhaevel well enough that he was dead.
“Noooo!” the druid wailed, realizing the terrible truth, too. She buried her face in Elmo’s chest, huge sobs wracking her frame.
Shanhaevel reached out a hand to console her, but Shirral shoved him away, a crazed look in her eyes. “No!” she screamed, leaping to her feet. “Come back here, you bastard!” She took off like a shot, running after Hedrack.
“Shirral, wait!” Shanhaevel yelled, forcing down his own horror at Elmo’s death and scrambling to his feet to try to catch her, to slow her from her mad, headlong charge. She was too fast, though, and he could not catch her. “Come on!” he cried out to Govin and Draga, who were still kneeling over Ahleage, watching with stricken looks on their faces.
Shanhaevel didn’t wait to see if they would follow. He sprinted out of the temple after Shirral, praying he could catch up to the grief-stricken druid before she caught Hedrack.
The winding passages Shirral followed led to a series of well-appointed rooms—living quarters, from the looks of them. Shanhaevel saw Shirral dart ahead of him, around a corner and out of sight. Panic rising in his chest with every footstep, he ran after her, charging around the corner and almost into the flank of a huge creature—a two-headed monster that loomed over the fallen body of Shirral. The monster held a great axe in each of its hands.
Shirral moved, though she seemed woozy, languishing on a thick carpet with a gash across her forehead. The two-headed creature, an ettin, turned to Shanhaevel. Before the elf could react, though, a glowing hammer of dark blue light swooped in, hovering before him in midair. The wizard backed away from the levitating weapon, ready to dart out of the way should it attack, but the magical hammer was quick, and it caught him squarely on the chest. Coughing from the blow, Shanhaevel stumbled back and down, landing hard on his rump. His vision swam with spots, and he found it difficult to breathe. He tried to bring his staff up but discovered that he was sitting on it, and as he worked to get it free, the hammer hit him again, catching him in the temple. Everything faded to black.
“Wizard, come on! Get up!” It was Govin’s voice, although it seemed far away. It came through a haze of pain, a throbbing, pounding pain that bounced around in Shanhaevel’s skull. He considered speaking, but the idea of opening his mouth seemed to make his head pound worse, so he decided against it.
“Come on, Shanhaevel.” Draga’s voice cut through the throbbing. “Wake up. They’ve taken Shirral.”
The elf’s eyes opened, then, almost involuntarily. Nothing was in focus, but he blinked several times, willing them to work, and soon enough, several faces swam into view. Govin hovered over him, as well as Ahleage and Draga.
Shanhaevel was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He tried to speak and found that his jaw was incredibly sore. He only managed a feeble croak.
“Can you drink?” Govin asked, holding up a small vial and lifting Shanhaevel’s head.
The elf nodded feebly. The knight pressed the vial to the wizard’s lips and dribbled a bit of the liquid. The familiar taste of cinnamon and ash confirmed its healing nature. Shanhaevel swallowed the thick fluid and felt some of the pain leech out of his jaw. Pushing himself up with one hand, he reached out, took the vial from Govin, and quaffed the remainder of its contents, swallowing it hurriedly. He felt the familiar feeling of the magic at work, the coolness spreading through his body as the potion did its trick, soothing away many of the pains he felt.
When the healing was done, Shanhaevel felt much better. Sitting up fully now, he looked from face to face at the three men around him. “What happened to Shirral?” he asked, strangely calm.
“Hedrack grabbed her,” Ahleage said, his voice wavering the slightest bit. “He managed to get away before we could get past that”—he motioned with his head back in the direction of the two-headed ettin, now lying dead in a spreading pool of blood—“to reach and aid either of you.”
Damn! Shanhaevel thought, furious. Another part of his mind was strangely surprised that this was his reaction. “We’ve got to find her,” he said, trying to stand. He wavered on his feet, still a little light-headed from the beating he had taken. “Where did he go?”
Ahleage gestured back through the doorway where Shanhaevel had come in. “He threw her over his shoulder and went that way,” he said. Gesturing at his now healthy leg, he added, “Govin managed to cure me.” He shuddered once but that was all.
Shanhaevel saw how pale the man looked, recognizing the mark of having survived a harrowing experience. “You all right?”
“I’ll survive.” Ahleage nodded once. “But Shirral may not, if we don’t go now.”
“Elmo?” Shanhaevel tried to swallow but found that he couldn’t.
Ahleage shook his head and pointed to a wrapped body a little bit beyond the dead ettin.
“We will avenge him,” Govin said.
Draga, standing next to the knight, nodded and tightened his grip on his sword.
“Then let’s go find him. Where might he have gone?” Shanhaevel looked around the room, seeing for the first time the richly furnished chambers. On a great bed on the far side of the room, two young women, covering their nakedness with furs, trembled as they stared at the group crouched in the doorway. Shanhaevel could tell they were scared to death.
“Paida?” Ahleage took a couple of halting steps toward the two, who shrank back, cowering. His eyes widened in recognition. “Ralishaz’s mother, it is!”
“We must get them out of here,” Govin said flatly, “and figure out where Hedrack has taken Shirral.”
Ahleage tried to approach Paida, but the girl screamed and scrambled to the far side of the bed
, covering herself completely with the furs.
“Hedrack must have charmed them in some way,” Shanhaevel said. “I’ll see if I can break it.”
He began his spell, watching to make sure neither of the girls tried to escape before his spell coalesced. When he was done, he felt sudden burst of dispelling energy flash across the two women. For a moment, Paida and the other girl blinked in confusion, and then recognition dawned on the serving girl’s face.
“Oh, thank the Mother!” Paida cried out, trembling anew.
“Please, don’t let him come back,” the other girl sobbed. “I want to go home!”
Ahleage smiled softly. “We’ll take you home. What’s your name?”
“Mika,” the other young woman said. She followed Paida as the two of them, still clutching the furs about themselves, climbed off the bed and came toward the companions.
“Paida, Mika, do you know where he went?” Ahleage asked.
Mika blanched and shook her head.
Speaking to Shanhaevel, Paida said, “After you were hit by the glowing hammer, he dug something out of your belongings and grabbed the elf-woman. He carried her out, telling Deus and Ahma”—she pointed to the dead ettin—“to keep everyone from following.”
Shanhaevel’s heart leaped in his throat. He reached for his satchel and snarled in desperate frustration when he confirmed what he feared: The box with the golden skull was gone.
“He has the key!” the elf said, panic rising in his voice. “He’s going to free Zuggtmoy!”
“We cannot let that happen,” Govin said, his voice low and intense. “Where will he do this?”
“Back on the surface level, at that great throne,” the wizard replied, gesturing upward with his thumb.
“Come on, then!” Govin said, motioning for the women to join them. “Let’s go before it’s too late.”
Gingerly, the two women, using the furs from the bed to cover themselves, joined the four companions, and they exited the chambers, ready to return to the surface.
Just as Govin passed through the doorway and crouched to pick up Elmo’s wrapped body, a dark form lunged out of the shadows. The face of Lareth glared as it let out a keening wail. It rushed forward, eager to consume them all. In an instant, two of the eight spidery legs of the undead creature struck, one glancing off Draga’s shoulder and the other raking Mika’s torso. There was no physical contact from the creature, but nonetheless, the poor girl’s shriek died in her throat as the color left her body and she slumped to the floor, pale and unmoving.
Paida screamed even as Ahleage grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the horrid death spirit. Draga, holding his limp arm, fumbled for his sword, but Govin was there before the undead thing could strike again.
“Bless this weapon, Saint Cuthbert!” the knight shouted, and he swung his sword through the shadow spider. The blade slipped unhindered through the wispy apparition, but the face of Lareth grimaced in pain, and it howled as it stumbled back a step, trying to avoid the blessed blade.
Shanhaevel dropped to one knee, checking Mika, but the young woman was dead, her life drawn away by the touch of the cold spirit.
“Go!” Govin shouted, advancing a step toward the monster. “Get up there and save her! I will follow!”
Hesitating only a moment, Draga, Ahleage, and Shanhaevel hustled Paida from the chambers, scurrying away as Govin swung his blade again, eliciting another pained howl from the ghostly creature.
“May Saint Cuthbert protect him,” Shanhaevel breathed as they ran.
“Why would Hedrack take Shirral?” Draga asked as they moved through the now-empty hallways. “What could he want with her?”
“Sacrifice for the demoness, most likely,” Ahleage said as they hurried along.
At the man’s words, Shanhaevel flinched, but he said nothing. He didn’t want to think about such a thing, and he thrust it firmly from his mind. It’s not going to happen, he told himself firmly. We’ll just stop him before he gets the chance.
As the group moved ever upward, Shanhaevel noticed that the place seemed vacant. Many of the troops have either died at our hands or deserted, he decided. It was really no comfort. If she is freed, it won’t matter how many of the enemy died. The elf quickened his pace a bit more.
When at last the four of them reached the top of level of the temple, entering the horrible chamber they had first explored, there was no one there either.
Shanhaevel motioned toward the blown-out front entrance and whispered, “Draga, take Paida and go. Get her somewhere safe.”
Draga opened his mouth to protest, but as he looked back and forth from the wizard to the terrified woman, he nodded at last. He turned to go, leading Paida away. “I’ll be back,” he said.
Shanhaevel turned away from the exit and pointed at the front of the great room where the great semicircular wall faced out past the large throne of stone. Hedrack was there, his back to them. His rigid stance and quick, precise movements showed that he was working on something urgently. At the sound of their footsteps, the high priest turned, and Shanhaevel saw that he held the skull in one hand. The four depressions circling the top of the skull had been filled. Each hole contained a gem, one for each color of the elements. Shanhaevel groaned, realizing the key was now a powerful weapon in the hands of Hedrack.
Shirral slumped in the seat of the throne, her legs and arms bound, her face covered with a blindfold and a gag. She turned her head at the sound of the approaching footfalls, and Shanhaevel breathed a soft sigh of relief, knowing she was still alive.
“By Iuz, you will not go away!” Hedrack snarled, his face darkening in anger. “I would not have thought the wretched servants of the fop to be so persistent.”
“Persistent is a fair enough word, Hedrack,” Shanhaevel said coldly, moving steadily toward the man and preparing to rip the high priest apart with his bare hands, if necessary.
“Whatever your choice of terms, it changes nothing.” Govin’s voice echoed from behind the elf.
Shanhaevel turned to look at the knight, who stood a little way back, the body of Elmo lying at his feet. The knight’s face looked a bit drawn, but he was smiling. Shanhaevel returned the grin, thankful to see his friend still alive.
“Victory is ours by the might of Cuthbert,” Govin said. “You cannot stand against us. You must know that. Lay down your arms. One chance. No quarter will be given unless you surrender now!”
The knight strode forward as he spoke, closing with the high priest. Shanhaevel and Ahleage fanned out beside him, ready to finish this once and for all. Shirral, upon hearing the voices of her companions, struggled, trying to shrug off her bonds.
“So be it,” the high priest spat, whirling to face them. “All of you, die!”
Without looking back, Hedrack slammed a fist into the druid’s face, drawing a muffled grunt from her. She slumped down, groaning once and lying still. Hedrack held forth the skull in his other hand and spoke softly.
Shanhaevel, upon seeing the punishing blow the high priest had put upon the druid, swore furiously. He stepped forward, ready to fling a spell at Hedrack that would hurl the man back and slam him against the wall. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the others react similarly. All of them were ready to pummel the man standing at the far end into oblivion.
Before any of them could close on the high priest, there was a swirl of wind in the vast chamber, and suddenly, four loathesome creatures swam into view, summoned from some nether plane. Shanhaevel and the others drew up short.
Hedrack grinned, turned back to the throne, and sat upon it. As the planar creatures stepped forward to attack, Hedrack held the skull aloft, and the throne slowly sank into the floor.
Shanhaevel stood frozen in place for a moment as the horrible realization of what was transpiring hit him. Hedrack had summoned creatures from deep in the abyssal planes to cover his departure. The foul beasts advanced as the high priest disappeared, sinking down into the floor of the dais and taking the captured druid wit
h him. If he were allowed to go unhindered, Zuggtmoy would be freed and the lands around the temple would fall prey to her.
Trying to watch all the creatures at once, Shanhaevel backed away from the horrors, which were now advancing eagerly. The first, a tall, gaunt creature that resembled a skeleton with reddish leather stretched tightly over its frame, grinned malevolently as it darted forward, swinging both of its long, bony claws at the wizard. Shanhaevel stumbled away from the attack and nearly rolled within range of the second creature, an ebony monstrosity with the head of a slavering, fanged dog and four arms, which was threatening Govin. The beast’s eyes glowed a sickly violet, and Shanhaevel could smell the stench of rot as it lunged at the knight, swiping at him with two of its arms, both of which ended in snapping pinchers.
Another of the summoned creatures, a giant spike-backed toad with grotesquely human arms, loomed close to Shanhaevel, who rolled again, desperate to get away. It landed where he had been only a split-second before, bowling the dog-headed demon over. The two beasts tumbled to the side, snapping and hissing at one another. Govin waded in between them, swinging his sword with a well-practiced aim.
Shanhaevel scrambled to his feet and considered a spell that would harm these fiends. The two creatures Govin occupied ignored the wizard, but the tall, gaunt, skeletal monstrosity pounced forward again, causing the elf to fall back once more.
“Go!” Ahleage roared as he plowed into the red-skinned creature, slicing at it with his sword. “Save her!”
The skeletal demon swiped at Ahleage with a claw, but the man was quicker, severing its arm with a rapid strike.
Shanhaevel used the distraction to turn and run, sickened at the stench of rot, sulfur, and disease that radiated from the monsters. The last of the beings, a particularly horrid vulturelike monstrosity, also with humanlike arms, took flight and pursued him. The elf sprinted away, running past the great stairwell in the center of the temple and toward the throne in the distance. He kept running, even as he waited for the inevitable feel of claws raking across his back and a sharp beak ripping the flesh from his head and neck.
The Temple of Elemental Evil Page 24