Shadowdale at-1

by Richard Awlinson

  Half an hour later, in the planning room, Myrmeen related all the information she had been given to Evon Stralana, a thin, dark-haired man with a pallid complexion. Stralana nodded gravely.

  "Then I fear that worm, Gelzunduth, was telling the truth," Stralana said.

  "You knew about this?" Myrmeen screamed.

  "This morning, one of our men succeeded in gaining the evidence needed to arrest the forger, Gelzunduth."

  "Go on."

  Stralana took a breath. "Last night, Adon arrived at Gelzunduth's, and paid the forger for false identifications for men who sound suspiciously like Kelemvor and Cyric. He purchased a false charter, too. Gelzunduth knew at once what he was dealing with, and went along as cordially as he could.

  "When Gelzunduth was first interrogated, he hinted that he could expose corruption in the guards. Gelzunduth felt he could use the information to bargain for his freedom or a lesser sentence. It took until a few hours ago before the pig broke and he told everything."

  Myrmeen stared at the tiny flame from the lone candle that sat between Stralana and herself. When she raised her gaze, her fury over what she had been told was evident in her eyes.

  "I want to know who was guarding the gates when Kelemvor and the others left Arabel. I want them brought here, and questioned. We'll deal with their punishment once we figure out which gate they left through."

  Stralana nodded. "Yes, milady."

  Myrmeen's hands were balled into white-knuckled fists and pressed together. She forced her hands to relax as she spoke. "Then we shall deal with Kelemvor and his party."

  V

  The Colonnade

  Cyric, last to take the watch, gazed at the beautiful pastel pink of the early morning sky. Gentle strokes of ochre seemed to set fire to the pure white clouds that rose over the horizon. However, the thief soon noticed a wealth of heat soaking his neck. He turned, and found a second sunrise that mimicked the first to total perfection.

  Off to the north and the south, other suns were rising with visible speed. Illusions or no, the effects were disconcerting. The sweltering heat from the blinding orbs caused the tiny pockets of mud in the road to dry and harden, and the earth itself began to smoke with a foul odor. Cyric roused the others before the full effect of the tremendous heat became apparent.

  Kelemvor, still groggy from a miserable night's sleep, went in search of their sole tent, then cursed himself as he remembered it had been destroyed when the packhorses were killed by the creatures the day before. He ordered the others to fetch any blankets or cloaks and cover themselves at once, as the flatlands that surrounded the heroes offered little protection from the suns.

  "Midnight!" Kelemvor called. "If you have any more miraculous spells to aid us, now is the time!"

  Midnight ignored the sarcastic tone of Kelemvor's voice.

  "Bring everyone together!" Midnight cried. "The horses as well. Then gather our water in one place."

  Midnight's requests were met, and a heavy fog filled the air as the dark-haired magic-user released a minor cantrip to dampen the area. A second cantrip chilled their drinking water, ensuring it wouldn't evaporate in the heat. The blankets cloaked the adventurers in darkness and helped to decrease the intense heat from the suns. Midnight was thankful that her spells had not gone awry. She saw tiny streaks of lightning play across the surface of the pendant and felt a chill, even in the intense heat of the rising suns.

  In the darkness under a blanket, Adon remembered a simple spell he knew that would allow him to endure the effects of the intense heat without injury. He wished he could pray for the spell, but he knew there would he no effect. Before and after his watch, he had prayed to Sune and attempted spells; his efforts were failures, just as they had been since the time of Arrival.

  Midnight could see the suns, even through the fabric of her cloak. She watched in fascination as they converged in a dazzling array of light directly overhead. Then they were one and the heat dwindled to normal levels almost immediately. The crisis was seemingly at an end.

  The heat had its effect on the adventurers, however, and even as they prepared to leave, arguments broke out over which of the suns had been real, and which direction they wanted to travel. At length they surrendered to Cyric's unfailing instincts and a semblance of normalcy was restored to the journey.

  After a time, the flatlands gave way to lush, rolling hills to the east, and the imposing spires of the mountains of Gnoll Pass in the far distance. The heroes left the main road and were pleasantly surprised to find the ruins of a colonnade encircling a sparkling pool of fresh water, which Adon tested and pronounced pure. They drank greedily and replenished their canteens.

  The idea of bathing had no sooner occurred to the sweat-drenched adventurers when Adon, quite unabashed, began to strip.

  "Adon!" Kelemvor shouted, and the cleric froze in place, balanced on one leg, hands clutching his boot. "A woman and child are present!"

  Adon lowered his foot before he fell over. "Oh. Sorry."

  Midnight shook her head. The idea of bathing and refreshing herself before the final leg of their journey was not without merit, but other arrangements would have to be made.

  "If the three of you wish to bathe, then I will take Caitlan and wait for you at the other end of the pool — with our backs turned," the magic-user said.

  "Ah. Then we will do the same for you," said Kelemvor, already taking off his shirt.

  "Aye, except you will be over the next ridge before we enter the water." Midnight took Caitlan by the hand and led her away.

  Once Midnight and Caitlan were at the other end of the colonnade, Adon stripped completely and gently folded his clothing into neat piles before he made a running start and leaped into the crystalline water. He splashed about and whooped like a child as Kelemvor laughed "Well met, lad!" and stripped as well. Even Cyric entered the pool, although he seemed quite self-conscious in comparison to the others.

  Midnight was surprised by Caitlan's silence as they waited for the men to finish. She enjoyed talking to the girl, yet even as she gently prodded at Caitlan for a few words, the girl remained completely silent, gazing at the horizon.

  "Midnight!"

  Without turning, Midnight responded. "Yes, Kelemvor?"

  "Something I must tell you."

  Midnight frowned, noting the playful tone in Kelemvor's voice. "It can wait."

  "I might forget," Kelemvor said. "Don't worry, we're in the water."

  Midnight's shoulders dropped and she looked to Caitlan. "Wait here," she said. Caitlan nodded.

  Midnight rose and found Kelemvor close to her side of the pool. Adon and Cyric remained at the far end.

  Midnight's occasional imaginings about Kelemvor's unclad physique turned out to be not all that far from the truth: the sight of Kelemvor's water-soaked, glistening body caused Midnight to shiver, despite herself. She could not remember the last time hands such as his touched her. Kelemvor shocked Midnight from her thoughts with a healthy splash of water as he swam up close, playfully taunting her to join him.

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Midnight said, folding her arms over her chest.

  "Aye," Kelemvor said, a mischievous, boyish glint in his eyes.

  "That's why my clothing is remaining firmly in place until the lot of you are safely over that hill," she said, kicking at the pool and sending a splatter of water at the handsome face of the fighter. He grabbed at her ankle and missed, fell forward and struck his head on the stone edge of the pool with a heavy thud. The fighter's arms pinwheeled as he began to sink, a slight trace of blood riding the water.

  "Kel!" Midnight shouted, and suddenly a whirlpool formed and a hand made of swirling, spraying water lifted Kelemvor from the pool and deposited him on a small bench. Adon raced to the man's side. Midnight brought their clothing as Kelemvor began to stir.

  "He should be fine," Adon said, examining the wound. "I wouldn't suggest moving him for a little while."

  "Foolish," Midnight scolded, but Kelemvor
merely grinned and shook his head. Adon placed a blanket over the fighter and went to talk with Cyric, who was already completely dressed.

  "Would have been worth it," the fighter said. Then concern creased his features. "You're shivering."

  Midnight was, in fact, shivering uncontrollably. She hadn't tried to throw a spell to rescue Kelemvor, but she was sure that she had somehow rescued the fighter. Perhaps, the magic-user thought as she hugged herself to stop the shaking, the pendant is going to explode. After all, it was magical.

  Then Midnight shouted as a second geyser of water shot up from the pool and engulfed her in a sparkling column. The mage was shocked as her clothing, all but the pendant, disentangled itself with no move from her, and pleasant jets of concentrated water washed her clean even as her clothing danced in the air, receiving the same treatment. The others could see very little of what went on inside the column, and when it was over the water was hungrily swallowed back by the pool and Midnight stood fully clothed and shining clean.

  Her shivering had stopped, but Midnight was again struck with uncertainty. Well, she concluded, whether it had been the pendant or some power in the water itself that did all this, obviously there was no harmful magic at work.

  "Nice trick," Cyric said, smiling at the magic-user. "But I'm surprised you'd trust your spells after what we've seen."

  "I haven't thrown a spell since those cantrips this morning," the magic-user said. "I don't know what's causing this. It could be Caitlan for all we know."

  Midnight looked over to the place where she had left the girl, and felt a momentary surge of panic when she saw that the bench was empty. Before she was able to say a word there was a splash from behind her, and Midnight turned to find Caitlan taking advantage of the sparkling pool.

  Because of Kelemvor's wound, the heroes chose to make camp in the colonnade, then continue traveling to the castle in the morning. Cyric spent much of that afternoon studying the pillars and statues that surrounded the camp.

  The columns were thick and smooth, and a dozen feet above the ground, beautiful stone archways reached out like earthbound rainbows from one column to another. Then stone beams led across to the next column, which again sprouted an archway, and so on.

  Some of the columns had been shattered, their spires fragmenting into jagged lances at their peaks. Cracks reached downward from the broken crowns to corrupt the lengths of the pillars without mercy, and huge fragments of stone were dug deeply into the ground beside the fractured columns. Many archways were completely missing, disrupting the once-perfect symmetry of the colonnade and replacing it with a wild, unpredictable design.

  The statues were of the most interest to Cyric, though almost all of the sculptures were broken in some way and many were missing their heads. Some were male, some female, but all were perfect physical specimens. The thief stood for hours, staring at one particular statue: a pair of headless lovers with their backs turned to the colonnade, their hands displaying the emotions their missing heads could not.

  As darkness closed in, a strong luminescence emanated from the pool, as if its bottom had been lined with phosphorus, even though close examination proved this not to be true. The blue-white light from the water played upon the features of the travelers as they relaxed and occasionally found some topic for conversation.

  Cyric related tales of ill-fated adventurers who had sought their fortunes in the legendary ruins of Myth Drannor, ignoring the warnings of the heroes who guarded that place. All his stories ended with the adventurers being killed or disappearing forever. Midnight playfully chastised the man for bringing up such depressing tales.

  "Besides, how would you know what those people faced in the ruins unless you had been there with them, and somehow made it out alive?" Midnight asked.

  Cyric stared at the water and said nothing. Midnight decided not to press the issue.

  Adon began to extol the virtues of Sune and Kelemvor cut the cleric off by changing the subject to dreams and their fulfillment.

  "Not to be depressing," Kelemvor said, directing Midnight's words back upon her, "but Cyric's tales have meaning for us all. All too often I have seen men led astray in pursuit of their dreams. Then one day they look around and recognize all the joy and wonder they have missed because they were so busy trying to get from place to place and amass their riches."

  "That's pretty grim," Midnight said. "I've certainly known such men. Have you?"

  "Passing acquaintances," Kelemvor said.

  "I don't see what that subject has to do with us," Adon said sullenly.

  "It has everything to do with us," Kelemvor said as he watched the almost hypnotic motion of the water. "What if we are killed tomorrow?"

  Caitlan blanched, guessing where Kelemvor's words were leading.

  "As Aldophus said, 'curious happenstances abound — and all burning hell breaks loose.' Think of what we faced yesterday. Is anything really worth the risk of facing such nightmares again? Or things that might be worse? I have sworn to go on. But I'm willing to let any of you out of your pledges," Kelemvor said as he looked at the water.

  Adon stood up. "I'm insulted. Of course, I'll continue. I'm no coward, despite what you might believe."

  "I never said that you were, Adon. I would not have asked you on this quest if the thought had ever entered my head." Kelemvor turned to face the others.

  Midnight saw that Caitlan was trembling, and the magic-user wrapped her cloak around the girl. "My pledge is to Caitlan, as much as to you, Kel," Midnight said, hugging the frightened girl. "I will continue. There should not have been any doubt."

  Cyric had retreated to the shadows, out of the light from the pool. He understood fully the game Kelemvor was running, attempting to rally the support and enthusiasm of the company by calling those very qualities into question. Yet for Cyric, Kelemvor had merely voiced the same concerns that had plagued him from the beginning of the quest.

  I can walk from this, Cyric thought, and no one would move to stop me.

  "Cyric?" Kelemvor called. "Where's Cyric?"

  "I'm here," Cyric said, surprising himself by walking back to the others, and taking his place beside them. "I thought I heard a noise."

  Kelemvor looked around suspiciously.

  "But there was nothing," the thief said and knelt down in front of Caitlan, to whom he had uttered scarcely a word during their entire journey. "For what it's worth, Caitlan, you have my pledge, once again, to rescue your lady from the castle."

  Cyric looked to Kelemvor. "Some believe that our lives are predestined, that we have little control over them and might as well surrender to whatever fate throws at us. Have you ever felt that way?"

  "Not at all," Kelemvor said. "No one rules my destiny but me."

  Cyric reached out and grasped the fighter's hand. "Then we finally agree on something," Cyric said, and smiled, although in his heart he knew that he was lying.

  They must be close, Bane thought. He churned the waters of his scrying pool until his arm became tired. Relief spread through him as an image began to form. Yet something was interfering with his attempts to spy on Mystra's rescuers. Even when the water of the scrying pool finally became still, the image was hazy and indistinct.

  Bane studied the nearly still portrait of the humans who had come to rescue Mystra. He was most interested in the woman, yet she was asleep on her side, and he could not see the pendant. He studied the others and a tide of laughter suddenly erupted from the god-made-flesh. Bane's all too human larynx rebelled against the cruel treatment it was being awarded, and the roar of Bane's laughter became a hoarse croak.

  Bane stood before Mystra, who had been roused by the Black Lord's cruel laughter. "This is what you send against me?" Bane said, pointing at his scrying pool. "They are even less impressive than Blackthorne's description of them." Mystra said nothing.

  "I had thought your saviors would at least be fit to provide some sport. But these four?"

  Mystra restrained herself from showing any reaction, al
though she suddenly felt a glimmer of hope. Only four? she thought. Then the sending worked!

  When Bane captured Mystra, the goddess had used a fraction of her power to send out a modified geas spell in the form of a magical falcon. The potential avatar it would locate would be young, with immense potential — an untrained, yet great magic-user. When it located Caitlan, there was an instant of contact between Mystra and the girl, and in that instant, the goddess instructed her to find Midnight and the pendant, and gather warriors worthy of her cause.

  Mystra also gave the falcon a few spells to bestow upon the one who received her calling. One had been a spell to see into the mind of another, so that a proper champion could be found. The second was a cloak against any form of magical detection. The third and final spell had not yet been utilized, Mystra sensed. A tiny flicker within her essence had signaled the release of the first two spells when they occurred; no such sensation had arrived from the casting of the third. Not yet.

  Contempt stained the features of the Black Lord as he spoke again. "At least they had sense enough to leave the child behind. There would have been nothing to gain from her death, other than your further discomfort. And I truly have no wish to cause you pain, dear Mystra. Unless, of course, you leave me no choice."

  Mystra had learned patience in her time as a prisoner of Lord Bane, and she practiced what she had learned with the utmost skill, even though she wished to let out a cry of thanks that her plan had succeeded up to this point. Caitlan had been protected from Bane's prying sorceries; he did not know that she was still with the party.

  "I'll offer my lenience once more. Pledge yourself to my cause. Help me unite the gods against Lord Ao, so we may retake the heavens. Do this and all will be forgiven. Fail to take the opportunity I offer and I swear I will inflict the torments of the damned upon these humans who seek to free you from my grasp!"