by Kate Novak
“Hello, Joel. Surprised to see me?” the woman snarled. “Thought I’d died in the desert when you abandoned me?”
“We didn’t abandon you,” Joel said, keeping his hands up to protect himself against any renewed attack. “We left you with Holly. She said you were all right.”
“Holly,” Jas whispered, her features softening for a moment. Then her eyes narrowed. “Holly was gone—you were all gone—when the priest and warriors of Xvim found me. They gave me a choice: death or transformation into a dark stalker. How could I resist the chance to take revenge on Walinda or the chance to hunt for those who betrayed me?”
“We didn’t betray you,” Joel said, his brow furrowing. “The banelich nearly killed you. We healed you and left you with Holly. She said you were safe. Something must have gone wrong. Holly wouldn’t lie. Is that why you attacked her?”
Jas looked away. “I didn’t realize it was her. I intended to attack Walinda. When Holly struck me, I turned and struck back instinctively. Walinda ran like the coward she is. I’ll never allow you take the Hand of Bane to her. I’ll kill you before I see her get what she wants.”
“Jas, you can’t be serious. I understand you want revenge on Walinda because she murdered your crew, but would your crew have wanted you to risk your life, risk your soul, to avenge them?”
Jas snarled and slashed out with a talon. Joel blocked it with his right arm. The talon sliced through his forearm, leaving a stinging cut from his wrist to his elbow.
“My soul was dead the moment I killed Holly,” the winged woman screamed. “With her death, I’m trapped inside this form forever. According to the priest of Xvim, one death seals the bargain. Now I live only for vengeance.”
“But Holly’s not dead,” Joel said.
“Liar!” Jas shouted.
“I’m not lying. She has a paladin friend who saved her. She’s with him now.”
Jas froze as if trying to take in Joel’s words. Then her expression softened. “Holly’s … not … dead,” she whispered slowly. The green glow faded from her eyes, revealing her brown irises. “She’s still alive!”
Joel nodded. “Walinda’s watching her until she recovers.”
“You left her with that witch?” Jas growled. She stepped back and lofted herself into the air.
“Jas, wait!” Joel shouted, but the winged woman ignored him. She landed on the top step of the iron staircase and disappeared into the shop.
Joel took two steps toward the stairs, then heard someone shout behind him. It was Jedidiah, still trapped by the stone idol.
Joel snatched up the finder’s stone and hurried down the stairs into the tunnel leading to the underground shrine. At the base of the stairs, he found the sledgehammer and retrieved it, then ran back to the shrine.
The idol made an effective wall standing before the passageway, blocking Jedidiah from leaving. Jedidiah stood before the creature, holding the Hand of Bane over his head. The magical stone statue had enough awareness not to damage the item it was created to guard, but neither was it going to let its thief pass by.
The creature had its back to Joel. The Rebel Bard took aim with the sledgehammer and swung it right at the statue’s left ankle. The blow sent a crack running across the stone joint. The creature started to turn around, but its foot remained frozen in place. It wobbled, trying to balance itself on one foot and the stump of the other leg. Joel raised the sledgehammer again and swung it at the idol’s opposite knee. The stone creature slammed Joel in the head with a rock fist before falling backward.
Joel dropped the sledgehammer and fell to his knees, stunned. He was just barely aware of Jedidiah slamming into the idol from behind and sending it crashing to the floor. The stone statue shattered into several pieces. The fragments did not move again.
Jedidiah stumbled forward into the passageway, still clutching the Hand of Bane. He was pale and wheezing, but grinning like a schoolboy. “Are you all right?” he asked Joel. “That was quite a blow you took.”
Joel raised his hand to his head. He could feel a lump forming already. “I’m going to have a giant-sized headache,” he replied. With Jedidiah’s help, he was able to stand.
Slowly the two men walked back down the passageway, propping each other up.
At the base of the stairs, Jedidiah pushed the Hand of Bane at Joel. “Take it,” he said.
“Why?” Joel asked, unwilling to touch the stone hand.
“I want you to make the decision of what to do with it,” Jedidiah said. “Whether you choose to destroy it or exchange it for the other half of the finder’s stone is up to you.”
“Why?” Joel asked again. “Jedidiah, is this some sort of ridiculous test?”
Jedidiah shook his head. He leaned against the passage wall. “The questions I asked the mind flayer … do you want to know what they were?”
Joel blinked with confusion, then answered, “Yes, of course.”
“My first question was ‘If I exchange the Hand of Bane for the other half of the finder’s stone, will Joel still follow me?’ You heard the answer in your head, too, didn’t you?”
Joel nodded, then lowered his eyes. The answer had been No. He hadn’t thought about what he would do if Jedidiah gave the banelich the hand. He had deliberately avoided thinking about how he felt about it since that first night in the Lost Vale. He looked back up at Jedidiah. “Ilsensine can’t know that. It can’t predict what I’m going to do.”
“Joel, before I cast the spell to protect us from Ilsensine’s probes, it was in your mind while you were unconscious, burrowing for your darkest secret. It knew what you thought. It knew what was in your heart. I knew what was in your heart, too, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I want all my power back. I was a selfish mortal, and godhood hasn’t changed that. If you weren’t part of the picture … but you are. I don’t want to lose you as my priest, so I’m leaving the decision up to you.”
Joel felt as if a heavy weight had settled on his heart. “What was the second question?” he asked.
“If I leave the decision up to Joel, will he act on my behalf?”
“And the answer was He does not know,” Joel replied.
Jedidiah nodded. “The mind flayer left before I could ask it if it meant you or Ilsensine.”
Joel shook his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do, Jedidiah. I don’t want Bane to be resurrected. But it’s not fair that you should be lessened just so he remains dead.”
Jedidiah held out the Hand of Bane once again. He looked more than tired now. He looked ancient and haggard. He said, “Joel, I only became a god because several good friends demanded I fight Moander. One even gave his life to show me how an unselfish man dies. But I lived, and I was given the gift of godhood. I’m still not comfortable with it, just as you’re not comfortable being a priest. I often wonder if the two aren’t related somehow. If I’m going to remain a god, I need friends to show me the way.”
Joel took the hand from his god. It was still warm from Jedidiah’s touch. “I need to think about this …” he said.
Jedidiah nodded. “Perhaps it will be easier to decide back at the Sensate safe house. Holly and Walinda will both have different answers for you.”
“And Jas,” Joel said suddenly. “She was here,” he told Jedidiah. “The Xvimists captured her and transformed her like they did Bear. But when she learned Holly wasn’t dead, she seemed to act a little more human. I think she’s headed to see Holly.”
“Let’s go, then,” Jedidiah said. “Before this city decides to spit me out.”
They climbed wearily up both flights of stairs. Dits was among the stacks of books and scrolls speaking with a customer.
“I’ll be back soon,” Joel called, waving the Hand of Bane at the bariaur. Joel stuffed the hand inside his belt and left the shop with Jedidiah at his side. They hurried through the streets of Sigil. Despite Jedidiah’s age, it was Joel whose strength began to flag as they reached the Sensate safe house. The wounds he’d received from the
skeleton’s sword and Jas’s talons throbbed painfully, and his head was pounding from the stone idol’s blow.
Jedidiah ushered his wounded priest inside and sat him down in the parlor. “I’ll go see if Bors can do that golden thread trick on you,” he said.
Joel looked up at the picture over the mantelpiece and gasped. The picture had been slashed to ribbons. Lying on the mantel before it was a note written on a scrap of the painting’s canvas.
Joel leapt up and grabbed at the document. He read it quickly and then ran from the parlor, shouting for Jedidiah. He found the older man in the kitchen, leaning over Bors. The alien paladin had been knocked unconscious, apparently with a heavy frying pan.
Joel waved the note in the air. “It’s from Walinda,” he said.
Jedidiah rubbed at his temples. “Read it,” he ordered.
“I have the paladin in my possession. I will be in the astral plane with my lord Bane. Bring the Hand of Bane if you wish to negotiate. Walinda of Bane … She has Holly!” Joel exclaimed.
“And you have the Hand of Bane,” Jedidiah replied. “It’s the same game, but the stakes have just been changed.”
Seventeen
LORD BANE’S BODY
Bors soon regained consciousness. Aside from a ringing headache, he was no worse for wear. He sent a street urchin to fetch sedan chairs to take Joel and Jedidiah to the Shattered Temple, where they would find a portal to the astral plane.
“I can accompany you as far as the temple, but then we must part,” the alien paladin said. “I have an obligation at the Civic Festhall that I can delay no longer.”
Jedidiah nodded, and Joel realized the old priest was relieved that Bors hadn’t insisted on joining their party. Holly’s presence had already complicated their business. Who knew what trouble a second paladin could start?
While they waited for their transport, Bors saw to their wounds. With a golden hammer, he applied a blow to Jedidiah’s arm, relieving the numbness the older man felt, and with the golden needle, he pricked the bump in Joel’s head. The swelling quickly subsided. Then he washed and bandaged Joel’s wounds from Jas and the skeleton.
Two chairs arrived, each carried by two bariaurs. Bors instructed them to head for a tavern called the Soused Duck. The tavern, Bors explained, was as near to the Shattered Temple as any bearers would go. He wished them luck and sent them on their way.
As he rode, all Joel could think of was Walinda’s treachery and how stupid he’d been to trust her. She’d pulled the same trick her master had tried. Jedidiah had even warned Joel about her in the Palace of Judgment. Of course, Jedidiah had also been tricked, believing Bors could protect Holly from the priestess.
Although it was now day, the fog grew darker as they approached their destination, and the air grew much more foul. Their bariaur bearers stopped at the Soused Duck tavern. The two priests alighted and paid for their ride. The bariaurs hurried away, and Joel could see why.
Beyond the tavern was a blighted scar where there had once been a thriving area of solid buildings. Several city blocks had been destroyed a long time ago but had never been rebuilt. Collapsed and burned-out buildings dotted the landscape. Some of the buildings had been scavenged, but no one chose to live in this place.
The Shattered Temple sat in the center of the devastation. When they had spoken yesterday, Holly had told Joel that the temple had once belonged to a god named Aoskar, who had apparently made an attempt to control the city. The mistress of Sigil had destroyed Aoskar, his church, and his followers. The devastation remained untouched out of superstition and also served as a warning to all: Sigil was off limits to godly powers.
As Joel and Jedidiah approached the heart of the destroyed area, Joel grew aware of the quiet all around them. They had left the hubbub of the city behind. This area was a memorial to the dead.
The Shattered Temple sat on a low rise, surrounded by a small retinue of temple guards. Its roof and upper walls were gone. Its foundation had settled crookedly into the earth. At each corner was a half-razed tower. Graceful arched buttresses surrounding the temple held up only thin air. Any stone walls that remained standing were covered with thick, dark-leafed vines. Four paths led away from the temple in the front, the back, and to either side, down broad staircases. Each path ended in a broken and shattered terrace.
As they approached the nearest terrace, they were called to a halt by the temple guards. The guards were a motley lot. They were armed and armored in a haphazard fashion and wore no recognizable uniforms. They each wore a badge of the Athar, also known as the Lost—those who believed all gods were false.
The guards, while friendly, insisted that Joel and Jedidiah must wait for a guide to tour the ruins. Jedidiah paced the terrace while Joel tried to imagine what this place had looked like before its destruction. In a few minutes a tall, thin man, somewhat older than Joel, approached the terrace from the direction of the temple and spoke with the guards. Then he turned toward Joel and Jedidiah.
“Welcome to the Shattered Temple, headquarters of the Athar,” the man greeted them in a gruff voice. “I’m Adenu, and I’ll be your guide.” Adenu turned and led the pair up the stairs toward the temple. The steps were uneven and scorched, and where there were breaks in the stone, wild grass had taken root. Their guide continued his speech, his eyes half closed, as if he were reading it from the back of his eyelids. “On this tour, I’ll be showing you all the darks uncovered by our leaders, darks which prove the wisdom of the Athar’s teachings—the gods are charlatans, beings of false power and false promises.”
Jedidiah began to chuckle.
Adenu shot the older man a chill look.
“I’m sorry,” Jedidiah apologized. “I’m not laughing at your philosophy. It’s just that the irony is killing me.”
“Irony?” Adenu asked.
“It’s not important,” Jedidiah replied. “Sir, any other time I’m sure this tour would fascinate me, but right now we are trying to track down a girl and her abductor. The girl is tall, dark-skinned. Her abductor is a small, slender woman dressed in black. We have reason to believe that the woman would have used your portal to the astral plane.”
“Oh, her! Bossy bit of fluff, the one in black was. Blew in here like she owned the place, demanding access as if she were the queen of the world. I thought that dollymop with her had too much of the bub.”
“Did they go through the portal?” Joel asked.
“Her Majesty handed me a huge sack o’jink. Said she had to see the dead gods immediately—had to show them to the girl. Didn’t see the harm in it. I guided them through to the astral side. Once we’re across, the woman says she doesn’t need a guide. She goes sailing off into the void with the girl in tow. I’m stepping back through the portal, and I’m nearly knocked over by some harpy who goes flying through.”
“Jas!” Joel muttered to Jedidiah, who nodded in reply.
As they passed between two long, low buildings to the rear of the temple, Adenu said, “All of ’em lucky it’s a good day for the portal.”
“A good day?” Joel asked.
“Portal’s getting unreliable,” Adenu explained. “Like everything the so-called gods created. Some days it’s no bigger than an egg. Other days it doesn’t open at all.”
Adenu led them through the front entryway to the ruined temple. The doors had burned away. Only their hinges remained. “Used to have caravans of people coming here to tour the temple,” their guide explained, “all eager for that big finale—seeing Aoskar’s body floating in the gray. Now that they know they may not see into the astral, they don’t flock here like they used to. Portal closes down entirely, we’ll be changing the tour itinerary. Can’t say as I’ll be disappointed. Thought from the beginning we should talk more about the tree.”
“The tree?” Joel asked.
“I’ve gone and given you a dark,” Adenu said. “Come back in a few weeks. The tree will be on the tour by then. Just working out some security problems. But the tree is proof there
is a power greater than the gods.”
Adenu led them through a door to the first tower on the right. Within, a knee-high wall encircled an empty pool about five feet across. Once the portal must have filled the pool, but now a puddle of gray in the middle was all that was left of the gateway to the astral plane.
“Pop through there,” Adenu said, “and you’ll see ’em … all the dead gods. No better than they should be. That’s where they’ll all end up once we’ve revealed the truth about ’em to the multiverse.”
“Some even sooner then that,” Jedidiah murmured. He turned to the Athar guide. “We’ll find our way from here, thank you,” the former god said. “It’s been very interesting talking to you, Adenu. Farewell.”
“Suit yourselves.” He pulled back and watched them from the doorway.
Jedidiah stepped stiffly over the low wall. His face twitched, as if he were in pain.
“Are you all right?” Joel whispered.
“I sense I’m not wanted here,” the older bard said.
Joel smiled.
“Not wanted in the city, I mean,” Jedidiah explained. “Something or someone has sensed my presence and is not pleased. There’s an oppressive atmosphere all around me. We’re not leaving a moment too soon.”
Joel stepped over the wall and joined Jedidiah beside the gray puddle on the floor.
“Hold on to my cloak and step through with me,” Jedidiah said. “Stay relaxed, and don’t panic when we reach the other side. Ready … set … go!”
The two men hopped through the portal together.
They fell into an empty sky. There was no ground beneath their feet, yet they fell no farther. There was neither up nor down, nor any horizon, nothing. In the distance, the sky looked silver, but close up there was no color to the air. Joel looked upward. The portal through which they’d entered looked like a leather-brown disk floating in the sky. It flared with a white light, then shrank to the size of a melon.