"Balzath," he said derisively.
"Yes, you've heard of me," she drawled. Waves of uncertainty assaulted Carym, beginning to resonate within him. Carym resisted the mental assault and called on a simple charm of his own, one that drew its power from the Spirit Sigil and created an invisible mental buffer between himself and his foes. Was this woman truly a Sigilist? "I have seen your type before, Carym, for I am eternal. Your time is fleeting, while mine is everlasting. You are nothing but a weed that will be plucked and discarded when his usefulness is done. Don't you desire more, Carym? Don't you want to master the most powerful of the Sigils and live forever?"
"No," he said. Though his tone was confident, he was anything but. The sweet taste of the power of the Shadow was fresh in his mind and it urged him to take the woman's offer.
"Ohhh?" she said sweetly, seductively. "Really? I know all about you, Carym. I know you have used the Shadow Sigil and you enjoyed its power!
"You see? You are already tainted, ruined. Zuhr will have nothing to do with you now. Why waste your unrequited love on him when you could be lavished with power and riches beyond your imagination?"
The more she spoke the harder it was to resist. He wondered if what she said were true. Had had used the black power of the Shadow Sigil, the magic that Zuhr himself forbade. He had done it more than once and he had developed a fondness for it. Was she right? Would Zuhr reject him now and send him to Hades for eternity? His heart leaped in his chest as the implications began to sink in; eternity was a very long time. Balzath lowered her hood and Carym gazed at her large eyes and raven tresses. He turned his eyes away, for the woman's attempts to charm him were relentless.
"What happened to you Zach?" demanded Carym, turning his attention to his friend. "I worried about you when you left. We all did."
"Bah," he scoffed angrily. "You wanted me gone, you couldn't stand to be near me anymore. My power was a distraction to you all, but it has driven me to new heights. You will come to regret forcing me out!"
"Forced? You went off on your own in Lordsdeep and you never truly came back. You left us when we needed you! How could you do that?"
Zach scowled, his face ripe with anger. He seemed about to say more but the woman waved him off.
"Enough of your little spat," quipped the woman. Then with a nod to her soldiers, she said, "Take him!"
Carym did not relish the thought of a fight with two armed hurkin warriors, but that Balzath chose to use her soldiers to apprehend him instead of her magic was encouraging. It meant that she wasn't entirely confident she could beat him in a magical duel.
"It is useless to fight, Carym," offered Zach as the warriors approached. Carym thought that there was a slight tone of compassion mixed into his angry tone. "She is too powerful for you and the hurkin will tear you to pieces. Let her pass!" Carym was amazed that his friend seemed to care enough to warn him. Perhaps that was a trick too. Angrily, Carym dismissed his friend's warning and focused on the now advancing threat. Two of the three hurkin soldiers approached, he braced himself for a fight. He vowed not to let anyone pass as long as he had breath in his lungs.
The onslaught was fast and furious. The hurkin warriors exploded in a blur of steel as they pressed Carym. He defended the furious attacks with skill. The shield served him well and prevented the attackers from striking him. The narrow passageway prevented his foes from flanking him but had the undesired effect of focusing their efforts. Then, suddenly it seemed, the hurkin appeared to be wearing down. Every time one of his foes delivered a blow that struck the ancient shield, an equal force was delivered in reverse. One of the hurkin found that after striking the shield his sword and arm were flung backward and his blade shattered against the rock of the tunnel walls. And when Carym rammed him with his shield, the hurkin flew backwards down the passageway. The second hurkin closed in to replace his partner, but Carym had more room to fight now. After a few exchanges, he managed to sever the hurkin's head from his neck. The bodies of the hurkin lying on the ground reminded him of the awesome power held within these hallowed weapons.
Drunk with power, his thoughts turned briefly to Zach and he thought he saw the other man smirk at him derisively. He wanted to charge him, strike him down for his insolence, but fought back his rising anger. Insolence? he asked himself in amazement. Since when was he full of such hubris to condemn someone else for insolence? There was no doubt in his mind that the Shadowstone was working against him, trying to pit him against Zach and make him succumb to the witch.
"Fool! You will not so easily defeat me!" the witch's mad laughter echoed wickedly in the dark. The passageway was illuminated by a brilliant and blinding light, clearly the witch's bidding. Carym ducked behind his shield and felt something smash into the ancient artifact. It momentarily stunned him, he was able to shake it off and force himself forward.
"Ahh, you carry the shield of the Dark Paladin! Do you feel its power, great warrior?" she asked soothingly. "It calls to you doesn't it? That power could be yours! Powerful weapons for a powerful warrior like you. The key to your future is in your own hands! All the power in the world could be yours, just as it was his. Think of the good that you could do with all that power!"
Carym could sense the intense power coursing through the blade and the shield. It was intoxicating, not unlike the feeling of the power focused by the Sigilstones. She was trying to convince him to embrace the Shadow and doing a good job of it. Between her persuasiveness and the influence of the mighty stone in his pocket, he found his resolve weakening. Her words made sense, he would be an incredible force for good in the world. Perhaps he could convince Zach to change his ways, to convince the dark wizards to abandon evil. And if any refused him, he would kill them!
"You feel it don't you?" she said softly, seductively, as she walked closer to him.
"Let her pass, Carym!" urged Zach, holding the dagger he'd found in Lordsdeep. The beady eyes of the skull which adorned the dagger's hilt seemed to glare at Carym hungrily.
Carym locked his gaze with Zach, each eying the other warily; each feeling the intoxicating power of their weapons, but resisting the urge to fight.
"Join us!" the witch said again, closer now. He was tempted. He was having a hard time concentrating under the simultaneous mental assault from the witch and the Shadowstone.
"Zach, how could you walk with these fiends?"
"You've chosen your path and I've chosen mine!" Zach snarled, fingering his magical dagger. Carym saw the maniacal look in Zach's eyes. "Save your compassion for your friends."
"You took it, didn't you?" Carym demanded angrily. "You took the box!"
Zach smiled but said nothing.
"We were friends, Zach! We were brothers! How could you?"
"That friendship ended long ago, Carym. Only you failed to see it. I grew wiser in the ways of the world when I joined the Spiders. I knew you would never understand."
"Is she your master now?" he asked with scorn. "One of Umber's foul demon spawn? What did they promise you?"
"I am Balzath," the woman chuckled evilly. "And that is all you need know, handsome. Why don't you come over here? We can get to know each other better. I'm sure we would make great friends!"
The hint of her eyes in the flickering light touched him deeply. He found it hard to take his eyes off her and even harder to think of anything, or anyone, else. The witch spoke and Carym felt like he had been struck with a giant war hammer. He fell hard, lying on the floor beside the headless hurkin and struggling to find his breath. Groaning, Carym struggled to move, to get back to his feet. Balzath and the remaining hurkin sauntered past him and into the chamber; toward the Everpool!
I've failed you, Zuhr. I let her into your sacred chamber, he thought miserably. How can I stop her now? What hope is there left?
Zach lingered near Carym with a dark look in his eye, fingering his dagger. He planted a booted foot on Carym's chest forcing him to stay down. His face twitched, his features now seemed conflicted and somehow alien
to Carym. It was like the fires of Hell were burning within the man's soul, illuminating his eyes with hatred and rage. The skin over his face had become drawn and tight, Carym wondered what evil powers were at work. Then Zach's face took on a questioning look.
"You should kill it," he whispered. Then his expression changed completely. "NO!"
"Yes," Zach whispered to himself.
"No, not him!" Zach shouted in answer to himself, his face looking truly anguished. Zach muttered to himself for a few more moments, unintelligibly. Finally the confusion left his eyes and he seemed in control of himself again. He stepped away from Carym and thrust his dagger into his coat and walked away.
"Zach! Zach!"
Zach stopped, but did not face his old friend.
"Where is the device?"
"With me," he replied, walking away once more. "It will be destroyed tonight!"
Carym summoned the inherent power of the Sigilstones to break the spell over him and regain his strength. It had become easier for him to use the stones and he rarely gave it a second thought. The dire warnings he'd received about being too free with their use seemed so excessive now. He suspected that his growth in the power over the Sigils was the most likely explanation. Within seconds, the powerful Tidal forces of the Flame Sigil surged into him, burning away the vestiges of Balzath's Shadow magic and revitalizing his body and mind. His strength renewed by the seemingly inexhaustible power of the stones, he followed after them. He had to get the Tome of Sigils if there was to be any hope of stopping Umber. Could he really kill Zach if it became necessary? All of those thoughts left him as he entered the sacred chamber. He knew what he had to do, and he knew that Zach would or would not be saved. Carym would do his best, but Zach's fate was now a matter of his own choosing.
The immense chamber housing the Everpool was pleasant and warm. Crumbling statues and the remnants of old columns ringed the perimeter of the golden waters at the chamber's center. It was once a temple during ancient times. The floor was made of marble that was perhaps once white and the walls were decorated with murals of beings that were either gods or immortals, but degradation over time made it impossible to tell for certain. The crumbling statues surrounding the golden water that still had their heads intact seemed to peer intently into the depths of the holy water. The pervasive sense of impending doom that Carym had been fighting was slowly replaced by a profound sense of serenity and holiness. There was no doubt in Carym's mind that this was a sacred place.
He looked longingly at the waves, shimmering with a mystical light from within. Legend said that peering into the waves of the Everpool could tell a person much about themselves that they didn't know, perhaps even about one's future. Carym knew he must survive his current predicament before he could even think about such luxury.
Balzath and the remaining hurkin guard were at the far end of the chamber, filling containers with the mystical water while Zach seemed to be staring mindlessly into the pool. They had not seen him enter the chamber yet. Carym spotted a small alcove in the wall on one side of the chamber as he looked across the water. Silently, he made his way towards that alcove moving from statue to statue; amazed that no one had seen him. Finally, he made it to a point where he could see into the alcove. He guessed rightly. The altar was there and atop the altar was a large leather bound tome. Carym looked back at Zach desperate to think of a way to save his old friend from himself.
"While you're staring at your reflection, handsome, help fill these bottles! It's why we came here in the first place!" the witch said to Zach angrily. Zach seemed to shake off the effects of the magical pool and did as he was told. Balzath had quite a few empty bottles on hand, Carym assumed they would be busy for a few minutes. He wondered idly if Zach would repay his debt to the Spiders, or if he would even return to Hybrand. Carym had to stop himself from thinking about home, it was a place he missed so very much.
Carym saw the wistful look in Zach's eyes as he dutifully dipped stoppered jars into the water. Seeing the same mesmerized look on the faces of the statutes gazing into the pool, Carym wondered if there was a silent warning here. These figures, whose sculptors doubtless intended them to be representative of great beings, had learned the hard lessons of their pride. The longer he looked, the more he seemed to feel like he knew these beings. It was as though he could see the face of many of them, and somehow knew their names. First he recognized Ulrych's kind face and then Zerva, Zervish, Grymm, Q'raz and Umber. Though the statue of Ulrych was not truly looking at him, Carym sensed something there. A presence perhaps? The warm light emanating from the pool reflected in the statue's eyes and soothed his mind. He put the thoughts of home and friends aside and focused on his task.
The Tome of Sigils was awe inspiring. The Tome lay upon a small pedestal within the alcove, a rich cloth beneath it. He was afraid to touch it; not because he thought there were traps, though there certainly could have been, but because it felt holy, pure. He couldn't see anything to lead him to believe there were traps, but he had to admit he wasn't very good at finding them anyway. Still, the situation warranted caution. He inspected the Tome visually from every angle. It was bound in leather, worked with gold and silver, and ancient scripts flowed beautifully around its perimeter and along its spine. A wheel was inlaid on the cover and each spoke bore the symbol of each of the six Sigils of power. A golden strap with a small lock kept the Tome closed. Carym wondered where the key would be. Perhaps there was some knowledge in it that would help him destroy Balzath. He felt more and more drawn to open the book. He closed his eyes and let his mind show him the world through the Tidal currents, and the dazzling array of multicolored light streams made him squint, even though his eyes were closed. Finally, he gave up, there was just too much power about this book for him to try to sense if there were spells of protection about it.
"Hurry up!" a shout echoed loudly through the cave, startling Carym. "And don't drink any of that water!"
Hurkin were notorious warriors; intelligent, powerful and skilled in combat. There were those among them who were gifted with magic, some said more gifted than even those of other races. But they were possessed of an innate greed and lust for power that had been bred into their race for millennia. And even here in this sacred chamber, this hurkin was no different than any other. When he was certain the witch wasn't looking, the warrior reached a cupped hand into the pool and drank from it.
The hurkin stood to full height, laughing at the powerful witch. He shouted at her in Hurkromish, a challenge in his stance. The witch glanced at the babbling warrior and his provocative stance and immediately understood what he had done. She cast a withering stare at the hurkin and began a spell intended to destroy the creature. Before the witch could finish her spell, the hurkin's flesh erupted in flames. In a panic the crazed warrior shouted in pain and ran towards the witch. Balzath pointed a finger at the immolated hurkin and a bolt of darkfire shot across the space between them, slamming into her guard. The hurkin stumbled and fell over the edge of the pool, arms flailing. He disappeared into the water with a great sizzling cloud of vapor. A horrible stench wafted through the air. The water in pool darkened, its natural luminescence seemingly tainted by the corrupted body that fell into it.
Temptation is a powerful tool, he thought wryly. That is how Umber ensnares his followers. Temptation, lies and false promises of power.
Carym was grateful for that distraction but he sensed that a terrible thing had just occurred, the flow of the Tides had been greatly disturbed. He took advantage of the witch's inattention and lifted the Tome from its alcove. He strapped the heavy tome to his back with leather straps affixed to the tome itself and looked out at the Everpool with longing. Temptation. Even now there were stirrings in the heavens and the Hells where the forces of each side fought supernatural battles for the fate of the world. Carym had learned much of the Dark Lord's methods and his powers, and even of the hierarchy of the immortal beings who served him. But the most important thing Carym learned was to be on gu
ard for the seductiveness of the Shadows, it was a constant struggle.
Rohan had told Carym that nothing would prevent the temptations and lies of the Dark One from reaching his mind, although his training would help him recognize them for what they were and his faith would help him repel them. Even now his mind was being assaulted by the powers of the Shadowfyr, the temptations of the power within the Tome of Sigils and in the Everpool were so great that he almost stopped walking. He wondered if he could somehow use the Tome and the learn the secrets of the Everpool. Then he might be able to challenge Umber and rid the world of Umber's evil once and for all. The thought of commanding such power was exhilarating, intoxicating.
The Tidal flows swirled and crashed in waves about his feet urging him to move onward, snapping him out of the trance he was in. These hints of power were empty promises. He knew his purpose: get the Tome of Sigils and return with it to Bishop Rohan's knowledgeable and trustworthy hands. The rest would sort itself out. He put his trust in Zuhr and turned away from the temptations of the Everpool, seeking an exit.
As the vapor dissipated and the waters of the Everpool returned to normal, the witch spotted Carym. She did not seem surprised when she spotted his prize. He turned to flee and felt an angry surge in the Tides about his feet. Dark rivulets of energy latched onto his legs and pulled them out from under him. The force of the attack spun him in the air so that when he landed, he was lying on his back. He wanted to panic, he wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The witch had spoken truly when she said the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Yet he was lying on the hard ground, unable to move.
"Thank you for finding that for me, dear boy," she said sweetly, sauntering over to stand by him. She leaned down to his level, flaunting her figure and delivering a heady dose of perfume. "Why don't you rest there for a while, hmm? I promise to provide you with a very entertaining show!" She gave Carym a smile and, humming happily to herself, strolled back to where she was occupying herself with a circle she had created on the floor. She knew exactly what she was doing. She did not kill him before because she needed him to find the Tome, as it had been hidden from the eyes of all who would follow the Shadow. Now that Carym had found it, the woman just wanted him out of the way. Zach's earlier words drifted through his head: I'm going to destroy it.
The Tomb of the Dark Paladin Page 28