“What do you reckon is going on up there?” he said.
“They watch,” Yeva said. “They observe what passes on the world, and draw their plans accordingly.”
“Can you sense their thoughts?” asked Anusha.
Yeva shook her head. “I’m merely guessing,” she said. “It is what my people would do had we come to Toril with plans for invasion.”
“Who are your people?” said Thoster.
Yeva answered with a stiff shrug.
Anusha asked again, “So, could you sense their thoughts, if you tried?”
“Remember what they were like when we were caught inside?” Yeva said. “Aboleths don’t have thoughts like you and I—they have reactions. They cannot be rationally understood, only avoided, or defeated.”
“But they have intentions,” Anusha said.
“Instincts,” the metal woman replied. “The essence of what they are drives them. They are like the wind blowing down the valley. When the wind encounters a wall, it doesn’t think, ‘how will I get over this?’ It merely flows over the barrier and continues without pause. Perhaps the wall slowed the wind, but the wind did not notice—it simply persists, mindlessly howling across the world.”
“That ain’t particularly reassuring,” said Thoster.
“But,” Yeva continued, “There is something I could try, since we seem to have bought ourselves the luxury of some time.”
“Why didn’t you just say so to begin with?” said Anusha, feeling an unwelcome stab of frustration.
“Because it’s not easy,” Yeva replied. “It’ll take about a half an hour to prepare, assuming the captain can afford to give up a few things I’ll need for my trance.”
“What kind of things?” said Thoster.
“Oh this and that, nothing too valuable,” Yeva said. “When I have the components, I can attempt to consult the spirits of my forebears, who lie beyond this sphere. Though gone, the knowledge they gathered is accessible to their kin.”
“Fine,” said Thoster. “Just tell my first mate what you need. She can gather things from ship stores.” The captain looked around. “Hear that, Mharsan?” he yelled. “Get Yeva here what she requires. But keep track of the cost. I’ll be billing Anusha for all expenses.”
The captain winked at Anusha. She took it as one of those “jokes” that have a seed of truth at their heart.
Not that it mattered—If they managed to stymie the Sovereignty and foil their mysterious plan to find the Key, she’d gladly pay nearly any bill Thoster was cheeky enough to send her way.
Yeva climbed down into the hold with Mharsan.
“Meantime …,” said Thoster. “Maybe I can try my hand at influencing one of those kraken circling the obelisk.”
“Are you insane?” said Anusha. “What if you manage to catch its attention?”
“That would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt I’ve got some kind of affinity for commanding sea monsters,” said Thoster.
“Or irritating them! Kraken are not kuo-toa, captain,” she said.
Thoster laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied.
Anusha watched as the captain turned back to the railing. By the set of his shoulders, he seemed more anxious than cheerful. The man was still dealing with the revelation of his newfound strength, whatever it was.
When nothing noticeable happened after several heartbeats, Anusha shifted her attention to Xxiphu itself. What was going on up there, and … Why wasn’t she attempting to send her dreamform to the city and spy it out herself?
Seren had, good to her word, “thrown together” a charm that would, the wizard claimed, protect Anusha’s mind against external enticements. Anusha wore the charm on her sleeping body. It was a bracelet on her right arm—a silver chain onto which three small, greenish crystals were threaded.
Anusha took a deep breath, wondering if it was time to test Seren’s handiwork. The only problem was if Seren was off her game, Anusha’s mind would be swept up by the Eldest’s dream-catching aura. Cold fingers brushed Anusha’s spine.
Yeva climbed up from the hold, one arm hugging a small crate piled with various objects. The first mate followed Yeva up from the hold. She yelled at the handful of loitering crew who watched to see what would happen next. The captain glanced over, then returned to his contemplation of the stormscape.
The metal woman pulled a ceramic bowl out of the crate and placed it on the deck. She dropped a couple of chunks of coal into it, then pointed. A spark jumped from her finger to the coal, setting it all right.
Yeva watched the coal burn for a moment, then sifted together a couple of different powders into a tankard.
“Incense?” asked Anusha.
Yeva nodded. “Green Siren has some premium cargos still secured in the hold,” she said. “Thoster must’ve lost a small fortune to abandon his patrons to run off after Xxiphu.”
“I suppose you’re right …,” Anusha said, not correcting Yeva. Thoster was a privateer. He claimed he only plied his trade on Amnian craft, whose cargos were themselves likely the product of piracy and corruption. Not that such a distinction made Thoster’s trade legitimate by any stretch of the imagination, but it did make dealing with the jovial captain much easier if she took him at his word.
Yeva continued, “I’m a little concerned about the incense, actually—though it doesn’t really matter what sort I use. It helps center my thoughts when I breathe it in.”
“But you don’t breathe … anymore,” said Anusha.
“Exactly,” replied Yeva. “I’m hoping going through all the steps of the ritual will be enough.”
The coal burned down to a red ember.
“It’s time,” Yeva said. “Let’s see what happens.” She dusted the glowing coal with incense dust from the tankard as she fanned it with her free hand.
Despite being present only in dreamform, Anusha smelled the earthy, slightly sharp odor … Or so it seemed. How was it that she could smell the incense when she didn’t have a body present to breathe in the fumes, while Yeva, physically present though devoid of lungs and a nose, remained unable to sense the odor? There was much about her ability she didn’t comprehend.
Yeva fanned the rising lines of smoke into her face. She clicked her metallic eyes closed. A halo of electric yellow light flared out from her temples and faded again.
Nothing else happened for a long time. Anusha waited, shifting her attention between Yeva, the captain, and the distant black speck hovering in the sky.
Finally the ember died into a pile of white ash.
The metallic woman’s eyes slid open. “I asked my ancestors what goes on in Xxiphu,” she said. “I was rewarded with a vision of the Eldest, still half-caught in stony sleep, straining to wake. I saw a kaleidoscope of images: miles of briny halls pulsing with aboleths, empty gulfs of space, and egg chambers quivering with new sacs. All waiting.”
“For the Key of Stars?” Anusha asked.
“Yes,” Yeva said.
“Did you see Malyanna?”
“No.”
“Anything we can we do from here to, I don’t know … distract them?”
“I don’t think so,” Yeva said. The woman collected the bowl, incense jars, and tankard, and handed them off to Mharsan.
Anusha moved to stand with Thoster. Yeva followed. “Having any luck with those monsters?” Anusha asked the captain.
Thoster started, then blinked rapidly.
“ ’Fraid not,” he replied. “Not even a hint of connection. Whatever power I got, it ain’t for kraken.”
“Did you hear what Yeva just said?” Anusha asked.
“Ah …,” said the captain.
“Nothing’s going on up there—the city’s just waiting for someone to bring it the Key.”
“Huh. Well, if Raidon and Japheth are successful, perhaps Xxiphu can wait forever and rot.”
Quiet fell over the group.
Anxiety fluttered in Anusha’s stomach. The captain and Yeva had both tried their talents
, such as they were, to divine more of Xxiphu. Which left her, the only one potentially capable of visiting the place, a mere bystander.
She finally said, in answer to Thoster, “If only. Japheth and Raidon are capable … But so is Malyanna and the Lord of Bats. I should try to see with my own eyes what’s going on up there.”
The captain nodded. “Can you cast your dream that far?” he asked.
She let out her breath and said, “I can try.”
“Even with that wizard’s charm, your mind is at risk of being caught,” Yeva said.
Anusha nodded. “Monitor my sleeping body, Yeva,” she said. “Try to pull me back if you notice anything odd. With your psychic gifts, you can be my safeguard.”
“I can try,” the metal woman said.
Anusha allowed her dream to lapse into invisibility. She climbed into Green Siren’s rigging until she was standing high above the deck. Thoster had moved the ship so it floated directly beneath the hovering citadel. Thankfully, the sentry krakens hadn’t taken notice. The scarred foundation of Xxiphu hung unsupported at least a couple of miles overhead.
Of course, she wasn’t actually “standing” on anything—she was a mental projection, a lucid dream. Which meant that despite the gulf of air separating her from Xxiphu, she should be able to cross the distance. She’d pulled off similar feats before, just never so far.
As long as she avoided the idea that she was “flying” up to the aboleth city, she should be all right.
Instead, she imagined a gleaming length of elven rope extending up into the clouds. And it was so.
She took hold of the rope and climbed.
Anusha started slow, but quickly increased her pace. She had no weight, or muscles to become weary. Soon enough, she was nearly sprinting straight up, hand over hand.
Green Siren dropped away beneath her boots, until it was a toy bobbing on a wide plain of storm-shadowed water. Shimmering carpets, where the sun broke through the cloud rents, stretched to the western horizon, as if promising lanes of escape. Anusha forced her gaze upward.
The clouds drew closer, resolving as tufted, slowly curling masses of downy gray. Lightning stuttered through them, accompanied by a continuous growl of thunder.
And there hung Xxiphu. The floating obelisk was wider than several city blocks, and ten times as tall. Rookeries, balconies, inscriptions, runes, and enigmatic structures gaped like hungry mouths across its face. Some of the runes writhed into new configurations as her eyes danced across them. She’d learned last time it was better not to examine them too closely.
A feathery contact startled her. Xxiphu’s tide! She stopped climbing, and considered abandoning her dream. The Eldest’s mind-catching pull was still active. She’d known it would be, but the reality of its touch was nearly more than she could bear.
Then again, it didn’t have the punch she feared.
While the tide was undeniably present, its strength was feeble, as if hardly catching at her heels. Not like last time. Of course, then her mind had been caught in Xxiphu already, trapped outside her body. On the rope her focus remained safely in the slumbering flesh on the tiny ship far below. And there it would stay, thanks to the aid of the abjuration charm Seren had provided. She either had to trust the charm, or turn around immediately. Which would be giving up. She would fail in her self-given quest to foil the Sovereignty’s agenda.
Anusha started climbing again.
The tide’s pressure climbed too, pulling her upward. That was counterbalanced by a stretched feeling, one that tried to yank her back down. She was approaching the limits of her dreamwalking range. Anusha took comfort in the evidence that her spirit’s focus remained rooted in the ship.
She was close enough to determine a destination. Where would be safest to “touch down”? A cavity too small for a kraken to squirm into, she decided.
She saw an outcrop protruding from a covered balcony midway between Xxiphu’s tip and foundation. Without giving it too much thought, she made for it, climbing hand over hand on her dream rope.
The last few tens of feet were the hardest. She dreaded actually having to set foot on Xxiphu again. But she swallowed, and pulled herself up and over, onto the rough balcony of black stone.
The balcony was empty. An orifice plunged into the dull black wall, providing entry into the city. The opening was empty as far as she could see, but its lightless convolutions caused the hair on the nape of her neck to rise. Or perhaps it was the tide, still trying to claim her. Thankfully, the draw was hardly any greater here than when she’d first noticed it. Her mind remained her own.
Anusha gazed back down over the side. The sea was so far below that she had a hard time finding Green Siren. It was almost lost in the shadow of the storm over the water. But seeing it made her feel better. It was the one friendly, familiar point in a panorama of horror. As long as she could see the ship, she knew she could return to it and her sleeping body with a thought.
She forced herself to look away and focus on the irregular city entrance. Even its shape repulsed her. Maybe she should find a different way in? There were many to choose from on the obelisk’s exterior.
Of course, what would an opening into a city of aboleths have to look like in order to seem appealing? She smiled at her own expense. She was here to spy on the aboleths. Time to follow through. She approached the entrance—
A shadow drew her attention up.
A blaze of blue-white fire flickered high overhead. A balcony closer to Xxiphu’s crown burned with a head-splintering light. She heard a cry of anger, faint in the high distance. A woman’s voice.
Anusha looked up Xxiphu’s uneven side. The city’s exterior wall almost looked like … an expanse of flat earth. And why not? She imagined it was so. With a nauseous twist, her perspective shifted.
Anusha sprinted “across” the plain of dark stone, up the city’s vertical wall. The balconies and other entrances in Xxiphu’s side were pits and sinkholes to be avoided. In her peripheral vision, distant runes writhing along the obelisk seemed like great snakes coiling across a desert wasteland. She ignored them and kept running. Ahead, the strange radiance died away.
Eventually she reached the balcony that had burned. The balcony bottom jutted out of the “ground” like a boulder, the portion facing her a pocked black expanse. She slowed to a walk, double-checked to make certain her dreamform was invisible, and peered around to see who or what was there.
It was Malyanna, as Anusha had guessed from the sound of the voice. The imperious eladrin’s face was drawn in pain and anger. The material of her gown was scored, blackened, and rent on her upper left shoulder, as was her pale skin beneath. Blood seeped from the ragged flesh, forming narrow rivulets that flowed down her side and dripped on the black stone.
A man with red hair tended Malyanna’s wound. He wore a black robe belted at the waist, but his arms were bare. The tattoo of some kind of hunting cat curled down one arm.
A huge dog shadowed the far side of the balcony, working with shockingly white teeth at something caught in the fur of one leg. If she squinted, she could see the resemblance between the creature and Lucky. Except that thing was far bigger, more vicious, and shadows clung to it like waving banners.
Lying in the center of the balcony was a twisted stone statue of a humanoid caught in some horrific transformation. Anusha went cross-eyed as she tried to trace the object’s lower half, so she shifted her gaze back to Malyanna.
“That damned warlock!” screamed the eladrin. “We should have stayed to finish him and that damned half-elf off. Look at this!” She gesticulated with her free hand to her wound. “I can’t remember the last time I was so wounded!”
Anusha put a hand to her mouth. The three had encountered Japheth, and recently. What had been the outcome?
“He used your own power against you,” the man said.
“Taal, please keep your insights to yourself unless they actually pertain,” Malyanna replied.
The man named Taal nodded. He ma
de as if to speak, but cocked his head instead.
Anusha became aware of a low warning growl. She looked at the huge mastiff, but it was busy licking its paws.
“An enemy is near,” said Taal.
Anusha fixed her eyes on Taal. The man placed one hand on his tattoo. The growl, she realized, had been exactly like that of a wild cat!
“Something?” Malyanna pressed.
Taal allowed his gaze to range around the balcony. Anusha hunkered down until only her eyes remained above the level of the railing. Was the man able to sense her despite her immaterial status?
“My totem indicates we are watched,” Taal said.
The eladrin sniffed. “I don’t doubt we are under observation by half a dozen aboleths this very moment,” she said. “Don’t trouble yourself about it. Finish up, will you?”
Taal returned his attention to Malyanna. He placed a hand over the angry wound and closed his eyes. When he withdrew it three heartbeats later, the rent flesh had closed. While still discolored, it was obvious the eladrin was no longer in danger of bleeding to death.
She stepped away without a word of thanks to Taal to study the disfigured statue. Her pupils grew wide, and a grin stretched her mouth. “We finally have it,” she said.
It? Anusha thought. Was the horrible stone sculpture special? It couldn’t be the Key of Stars, could it? Anusha wished Yeva were here. Maybe she would know the statue’s significance.
“You’re certain?” said the man. “What if Carnis lied? He was always a betrayer at heart—”
“After all these years, you’re getting cold feet, Taal?” said Malyanna.
The man shrugged. “My oath compels me to serve,” he replied.
She nodded. “Of course it does,” she said. “That’s why I chose you. Now then … It’s time.”
Taal sighed.
“Time,” continued Malyanna, “to reacquaint the Eldest with the Citadel of the Outer Void.”
“How?” Taal asked.
“Despite that I put the Lord of Bats on his scent, Japheth is still alive,” Malyanna said. “Which means the essential spark the warlock stole to power his new pact remains missing. So the Eldest yet slumbers, and its vast power lies unused.”
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