by Kate Novak
Copperbloom nodded.
“Moander destroyed so many of our young that every egg is precious to us,” Grypht explained to Joel. “Each one is blessed by every priest and priestess we have.”
The young saurials who had been rehearsing the play burst out from the temple, the flyers taking to the air, the others heading for the staircase. Copperbloom snagged one of the finheads by the shirt and pulled him toward her.
“This,” Jedidiah said, “is Handful, Copperbloom’s oldest hatchling. Well met, Handful,” he addressed the young saurial.
The priestess made a clicking noise, and Handful bowed quickly to the group, then fidgeted in his mother’s grip.
“He grows more like his father every day,” Jedidiah noted.
Handful narrowed his eyes and looked up at the old priest. If the young saurial made a reply, Joel couldn’t hear it.
“Yes, he does seem to share his father’s immunity to your charms,” Grypht said to Jedidiah.
Jedidiah winked at Handful. Copperbloom released her son. The boy made another, much more formal, bow, which Joel sensed was more saucy than reverent. Then the young saurial dashed into the gardens and was soon lost from sight.
“I was wondering if you would show Holly down to the village,” Jedidiah asked Grypht. “I have some church business to discuss with Joel and Copperbloom.”
Holly descended the stairs with the saurial wizard, and Jedidiah motioned for Joel and Copperbloom to follow him back into the Singing Cave.
The three priests sat on the moss and ferns, and Jedidiah instructed Joel to describe his adventures since arriving in Daggerdale. Joel related his encounters with the Zhentilar, Holly, Randal Morn, Bear, the Xvimists, Walinda, and Jas. He told how he, Holly, and Jas were hunted across Daggerdale and how Jedidiah had rescued them in Giant’s Craw Valley.
Then Jedidiah explained why he had put some of his power into his half of the finder’s stone. Copperbloom chirped, and a scent like baked ham rose from her body.
“Yes, I know I could have just left them, but I wanted to stay with Joel,” Jedidiah replied to the saurial priestess.
Copperbloom chirped something else.
“Of course he can take care of himself,” Jedidiah retorted. “I just—I wanted—” Jedidiah hesitated then sighed. “I wanted the chance to go adventuring again,” he admitted.
Copperbloom looked up at the ceiling, shaking her head slowly back and forth.
“That’s not the worst part,” Jedidiah said.
Copperbloom leaned forward with her eyes fixed rigidly on the older priest. Jedidiah reported quickly and matter-of-factly how Walinda had stolen the finder’s stone. Copperbloom gestured wildly with her hands, making a series of whistling noises, which Jedidiah listened to with a grim look. Then Jedidiah told her of the banelich and the old priest’s agreement to find the Hand of Bane in exchange for the finder’s stone. Copperbloom put her head in her hands and moaned.
“I was stupid and reckless, I know,” Jedidiah said to the priestess. “But there’s nothing to be done about it. I have no choice. I have to find the Hand of Bane so I have something to bargain with. It’s somewhere in Sigil.”
Copperbloom trilled something, and the smell of baked bread rose from her body.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want,” Jedidiah said. “Would you please bring it to me?”
Copperbloom huffed. She rose to her feet and retreated down the hallway toward the other caverns, shaking her head and making disturbed clicking noises.
“She doesn’t look pleased,” Joel noted. “She reminds me of how my mom used to act when I did something dumb.”
“Ever since she became a mother she treats me like a child,” Jedidiah said. “Actually, come to think of it, most of the women in my life treat me like a child. I suppose I deserve it.”
Copperbloom returned a few minutes later with a large blue-glazed porcelain bowl decorated with a harp, a glaur, and a songhorn, all entwined in green vines laden with yellow blossoms. She set the bowl down before Jedidiah and bowed low.
“Thank you,” Jedidiah said.
The bowl was filled with pure white sand. Jedidiah brushed the sand aside until he uncovered a glimmer of yellow. Gently he loosened what was buried in the sand and pulled it out.
Joel gasped. “It’s the finder’s stone!”
“Half of the finder’s stone,” Jedidiah corrected.
The stone the old priest held was the mirror image of the stone Joel had seen Jedidiah use to siphon off his power—a rounded, multifaceted yellow gemstone with a jagged bottom.
“This,” Jedidiah said, blowing sand from the stone, “is the half of the stone Finder left in the vale with Alias and the saurials before he went into the Abyss to find the mage Akabar bel Akash. It hasn’t left the vale since then—nearly ten years ago.”
“I thought Finder went into the Abyss to kill Moander,” Joel said.
Jedidiah shook his head. “That wasn’t his original intention, but Akabar sacrificed his own life to convince Finder to kill Moander.”
Suddenly Joel came to another realization. “If that’s the half of the finder’s stone that Finder left the saurials, then the half you had was …” Joel let his voice trail off.
“… the half that Finder took with him to the Abyss,” Jedidiah said with a nod.
Joel’s eyes widened. “You had Finder’s half of the stone? How did you get it?” he asked, his voice low with wonder. “Did Finder give it to you?” he asked.
“Not precisely,” Jedidiah said. He sang a scale, then another in a different key. The half of the finder’s stone glowed brightly and cast a beam of golden light on Jedidiah. As it did, the old priest began to transform. His back grew straighter; his skin became unwrinkled; his muscles hardened; his hair darkened to black, with only a few splotches of gray. His features still looked like Jedidiah, but the signs of his age had evaporated, and youthful vitality flowed through his body.
When the transformation had ceased, Jedidiah turned to Joel. “You see,” he said with a sheepish expression on his face, “I had Finder’s half of the stone because I carried it with me into the Abyss. It was my half of the stone. I’m Finder, your god.”
Eleven
FINDER
Joel’s jaw dropped. He stared wordlessly at Jedidiah for a full twenty heartbeats, while his mind struggled to form a coherent reply. Finally he said, “I don’t believe it,” then instantly felt foolish.
“I’m afraid it’s true,” Jedidiah replied. “May I strike myself with lightning if it’s not,” he joked.
Excitement gripped Joel’s heart. Here he was, speaking with a god, the god he’d agreed to serve. Suddenly he was nervous. “Um, is there some special way I should address you? Should I kneel or bow, or anything? I’ve never met a god before,” he said.
Jedidiah shook his head. “No. My ego’s large, but despite what my detractors say, it’s not that large. I’m not really comfortable with adulation. I’m just a little god. You can keep calling me Jedidiah. I’ve gotten rather attached to the name.”
Joel grinned. The fears Walinda had tried to use to cloud his judgment evaporated. He was really talking with Finder. Then a new worry niggled at his heart. “If you’re Finder, then what happened to Jedidiah?” he asked.
“Jedidiah is me, or I’m Jedidiah. It’s a disguise I wear when I travel around the Realms.”
“Then that was you in Berdusk?” Joel asked. “When you were telling me about Finder, you were telling me about yourself?”
Jedidiah nodded.
Joel let out his breath. He thought he’d been asked to join Finder’s church by a charming old bard-priest, when all along it was Finder himself. “Why me?” he asked.
“Why did I ask you to be a priest?” Jedidiah inquired.
Joel nodded.
“Well, I wanted to get the best people I could find—people who already believed strongly in transforming art. I’d watched you in Berdusk, arguing with your teachers, trying to break the
constraints of traditional music. You already understood what it took me centuries to understand. Also, you were well rounded, took an interest in everything. You reminded me a little of myself when I was younger, except you’re modest.”
“But why all the special attention? Why did you follow me? Didn’t you think I could make it here on my own?” Joel asked. He felt like a failure, since he knew he would have died without Jedidiah’s help.
“As I told you earlier, the journey wasn’t a test to see if you could get here on your own. It was a measure of your desire to be part of my church. And I didn’t actually follow you. One of my godly abilities is always knowing what’s happening to any of my priests,” Jedidiah explained. “I heard you call for my blessing in Daggerdale, but you took care of the Zhents without needing of my help. I considered stepping in when Bear betrayed you to the Xvimists, but Xvim keeps an eye on his priests, too. If I interfered with one of them, Xvim would interfere with me. I needed to be more subtle in my efforts to help you escape. I don’t dare risk attracting Xvim’s attention. To put it bluntly, Bear’s god can beat up your god. When you were imprisoned in the Temple in the Sky and called on me, I sent you the vision and a piece of magic, but you escaped, with your friend, on your own.”
Jedidiah sighed. “I haven’t been a god all that long. I still long for mortal things sometimes. As I explained to Copperbloom,” he said, “I only began to travel with you because I got caught up in the adventure. I wanted to find out what a priestess of Bane was doing with a spelljammer. I wanted to watch you thwart the Xvimists. I wanted to be part of your journey. If I hadn’t been such a fool, if I’d just returned to the Lost Vale after you escaped, the dark stalker would have lost you and you would have been just fine.”
“But why all the special attention?” Joel asked again. “You must have better things to do with your time.”
“Joel,” Jedidiah said softly, “you’re my priest. You are my strength. I told you that before.”
“What about your other priests?” Joel asked.
Jedidiah looked up at Copperbloom. A vanilla scent rose from the saurial priestess as she clicked with what Joel was sure was laughter.
“This is it,” Jedidiah said, making a circling motion with his finger to indicate the occupants of the room. “You, me, Copperbloom. This is my only temple—so far. There are several little shrines, most of them set up by people you spoke to on your journey here. More than a few artists have seen fit to evoke my name, giving me a little more power. It’s going to take some years, though, before our church gets much larger. For one thing, we have to proceed with caution. There are some gods, far more powerful than I, who don’t like the competition I represent.”
“Like Oghma and Milil,” Joel guessed.
Jedidiah nodded. “The Lord of Knowledge and the Lord of Song are afraid I’ll be poaching bards and artists away from their following. There’s also the power I took from Moander. I have some control over the cycle of life—growth, rot, and rebirth. Chauntea, the Great Mother, and Lathander, the Morninglord, are both involved in rebirth and growth. Which leaves me control over rot—not something most people have a tremendous attraction to, unless you happen to be a former worshiper of Moander.”
“So what will you do?” Joel asked.
“Well, I still plan to work with everything over which I’ve been given dominion,” Jedidiah said. “But I need to proceed carefully. I need to build a strong framework for my church—one that other churches can’t bring down easily. That’s why I’ve searched out and set up two very strong supports.” Jedidiah indicated Joel and Copperbloom with his hands.
Joel bowed his head humbly. Then he looked back up at Jedidiah. “Why didn’t you tell me all this in Berdusk?” he asked. “Why the disguise as an old priest?”
“There’s lots of reasons for the disguise. I can’t really hide from other gods, but at least I can try not to attract their attention, or the attention of their churches. Also, I don’t want a lot of people around me vying for my attention while I’m trying to get things done.”
“But why didn’t you tell me until now?” Joel asked, feeling cheated that he’d been left out of the secret. “Copperbloom knew, didn’t she?”
“Copperbloom is a special case,” Jedidiah explained. “I spent my first few years as a god roaming the planes, savoring my freedom and immortality. Copperbloom was one of my first worshipers. She called me to the Realms, pointed out that I had responsibilities to the few followers I did have. Without her encouragement and pestering, there would be no church of Finder. As for telling you, I just did.”
“But you let me think you were someone else for a year,” Joel complained, still feeling left out.
“Well, that’s another one of those mortal things I still long for sometimes,” Jedidiah said.
“What?” Joel asked, confused.
“Friendship,” the god replied.
Joel lowered his eye, feeling ungracious.
“I genuinely enjoyed your company, our talks, our debates,” Jedidiah explained. “I didn’t want to spoil things by telling you my true identity right away. It would have changed our relationship. I should have told you as soon as I found out about the dark stalker sniffing out my power. Then you wouldn’t have worried about me. But I was bitten by the adventuring bug, and I was happy traveling with a friend. So I came up with the half-cracked scheme of hiding most of my power in my half of the finder’s stone, knowing full well how vulnerable it would make me.”
“And the banelich discovered that vulnerability,” Joel noted, “and intends to exploit it.”
“Yes,” Jedidiah replied with chagrin. “I should have teleported here to siphon off my power into the saurial’s half of the finder’s stone, then had Grypht teleport me back, but I got cocky. I sensed the banelich was approaching, but I thought I would be a match for it, even without most of my power. Unfortunately, the power I put in the stone included my godly ability to know everything that was going on around me. I could no longer sense the banelich’s presence. I couldn’t even sense Walinda when she picked my pockets. It never occurred to me that anyone could steal the stone so easily. I’m just too reckless sometimes.” He looked down at his hands and sighed. Then he looked up with a foolish grin and asked, “How does it feel to discover that your god is a fool?”
Joel couldn’t think of a fitting reply. Instead, he asked, “Isn’t there some way to retrieve your half of the finder’s stone from the banelich without handing over the Hand of Bane?” Jedidiah shook his head, but Joel argued on, irritated that the idea was being dismissed so quickly, “But you’re a god. He’s just the essence of a god.”
“I’m still immortal and very strong. I can cast some simple spells. To a mortal, I may seem powerful, but to a banelich … we may just be evenly matched. And even if I could defeat the banelich in combat, I couldn’t prevent it from breaking the stolen half of the finder’s stone and destroying all the power within it.”
“What about other gods?” Joel asked. “Wouldn’t any of them help you?”
Jedidiah snorted derisively. “The other gods would be just as likely to take the power I stored in the finder’s stone for themselves.”
“Even Tymora? You said that she was Finder’s—I mean your—ally.”
Jedidiah said nothing for a moment, then muttered, “I really don’t want to ask her. Not yet, at any rate.”
Joel was about to ask, “Why not?” when it occurred to him that Jedidiah was embarrassed. He didn’t want to lose face before the goddess by admitting how foolish he’d been.
“Besides, that still doesn’t solve the problem that the banelich might break the stone if he’s confronted,” Jedidiah added.
Joel sighed. “Do you—” he began, then hesitated.
“Do I what?” Jedidiah asked. “Ask whatever you want. Please.”
Nervously, for he was uncertain what the god’s reaction might be, Joel asked, “Do you really need the power in the stone?”
“Wh
en I put my power into the other half of the finder’s stone,” Jedidiah explained, “I lost more of my godly abilities than I intended—my ability to sense what’s going on around me, and around my priests, my ability to teleport and to cast powerful magic. I wasn’t even able to shapeshift to my real form until I took back the little bit of the power I left in this stone.” Jedidiah held up the saurial’s half of the finder’s stone. “If my church grows, I’ll gain power from my worshipers and gain back some of those abilities, but that will take time.”
“How much time?” Joel asked.
“A long time. Centuries, I suspect. You see, in order to gain power from my mortal followers, I have to give power to them, but I don’t really have that much to give. I have just enough right now to grant you and Copperbloom some simple priestly spells—if I concentrate hard. I’m not even sure I could actually handle any more priests just now. So it will be kind of hard for the church to grow.”
Joel sat quietly for a few moments, examining his feelings. He was pleased his god saw fit to trust him with plans and secrets. He wasn’t even too upset about being deceived for so long. Since he’d become a priest, he had hoped he would have a chance to prove himself worthy of the honor Jedidiah had bestowed upon him, and now the opportunity had presented itself. He was uncertain, however, about having anything to do with retrieving the Hand of Bane for Walinda and the banelich. Yet his god needed his help now more than ever.
He looked up at Jedidiah’s face. “I’ll do everything in my power to help you get your stone back,” he said.
Jedidiah smiled with relief. “I appreciate it,” he said. “I have a feeling I’m going to need your help where we’re going.” Jedidiah slapped his hands on his knees. “Well, now that that’s been taken care of, I think we’re entitled to a break. Shall we join your friends?”
“Are you going to remain in your present form?” Joel asked.
“Yes. It’s a little handier should we get into any physical combat. I’ll tell Holly and Jas I’m traveling to the Outlands in disguise to avoid my enemies there. The saurials don’t really care. They’ve seen me in both forms.”