“Where are the rest of the guild wizards?” Eiruk wondered aloud, looking to the east toward the Towers of the Order. “They swore they’d follow either by air or foot.”
“Could be some are more loyal to Ten-Rings and hope that by delaying, they’ll be in position to garner favor from him in his new position.” Renaer smacked his fist in his palm. “Waterdhavians are nothing if not practical, adapting to every changing situation, Eiruk. You know that.”
Maerla Windmantle came up behind the two young men, sidling in between them briefly for warmth. “Well, there’ll be many a former member of the guild by nightfall, once we determine who stood with Ten-Rings in his treason. Eiruk, stay here, while we try and bring him down from there yet again.” With a few words, Maerla launched herself skyward, arcing toward the top of the tower.
Khondar smiled as he felt the magic of this place and its protections wash over him. He thought the fields would have had dangerous magic trapped between them, but he encountered nothing so far. As he looked up, he saw the matronly Maerla launching spells at his barriers to no avail. They would not hold for long, but Ten-Rings knew that he only needed to pierce another field or two before he was out of reach.
The sapphire amulet on Khondar’s chest flashed as he drew its necklace over his head. Ten-Rings laid the amulet and necklace to rest on the magical barrier, and another crack of thunder echoed across Castle Ward. Khondar did not hear much of the outcry from below as he sank deeper into Ahghairon’s magical defenses.
Khondar was so enraptured by the magic all around him that he failed to notice the sparkles that rose around him until they became a swarm so thick they could not be ignored. He looked up and saw a more solid form taking shape—a long-sleeping defense had awakened, changing the tower beneath him as its stones shifted and slid into place. Khondar blanched in fear, but he laughed when he realized this defense held no danger for him either.
“The tower accepts me! It takes me as its rightful heir, not an invader!” No one but Khondar heard his howls—at least no one outside the tower and its fields.
Osco pushed open the door, and Meloon helped Laraelra walk into the room. She leaned on both the duskstaff and Meloon, having nearly died in her four-story fall. She smiled at him and Osco, and whispered, “Thanks. Let’s find his secrets and get them out of here before someone else has the same idea.”
“Gods, I thought wizards were supposed to be smart,” Osco said. “Ten-Rings had this great bedroom big enough for seven hin, and he slept on a cot in his secret workroom behind it. See?”
Osco stood on his toes and reached a hand up into the left side of the chimney to trigger a switch. A door popped open in the stone-worked mantle, revealing a smaller chamber beyond with a cot, two worktables, and a small bookshelf heavily laden with books.
Laraelra resisted the temptation to sit down and begin reading, but instead hobbled over to the farthest worktable. She pulled away a small green cloth, and found a pair of hands carved from russet sheen. On each of the fingers and both thumbs gleamed a ring. Laraelra started to cast a spell to examine the magics or determine which rings were magical, when Vajra’s voice came out of the staff. Don’t bother, Elra. The Jhaarnnan Hands are obviously magical, as are most of Khondar’s rings. Gather those and the books, and I’ll bring you home.
“We’d better find a way to seal this place up,” Osco said, “or looters’ll pick it clean. After all, there’s two big holes in the front of the place—and I haven’t had the chance to root around much.”
Vajra’s voice rang out from the staff. Good thought, Osco. Thank you. A spell flashed out of the duskstaff and they could no longer hear the howling wind coming up through the atrium from the smashed stained-glass window.
Meloon and Osco shrugged and looked at Laraelra, who held up the sculpted hands and said, “Wards of some kind. Meloon, could you take these? Osco, grab that small chest down there.” She gathered the books off the desk, and said, “We’re ready, Vajra.”
The staff said, You boys better hold on to Elra now.
The air glistened and shifted, growing darker amid a vortex of snow and magic. Within that vortex grew solid stone, and the tower itself groaned and scraped loudly as a massive shape formed four stories above the street. Folk below gasped and pointed as the conical roof of Ahghairon’s Tower collapsed and shifted, the tower widening at its top to reform as crenellations and a more solid base for the statue that now loomed overhead. The summoning spell abated, and the air above Waterdeep filled with the screeching roar of a massive stone griffon. The Walking Statue that had long waited in reserve to protect this tower spread its stone wings wide with a clatter of carved slate feathers and reared on its powerful hindquarters, its talons digging into the new stone crenellations that formed its perch.
The Walking Statue froze in place, its rearing form and spread wings now making Ahghairon’s Tower taller than the minarets in the palace and the tallest structure in Castle Ward by far, save the towers of the castle set high on the mountain.
Standing in the shadow of the tower, Eiruk Weskur looked up at the statue and knew it was almost three times a normal griffon’s size. His studies and experiences with magical beasts told him something else: while it might be a magical statue, it acted like a real griffon. Eiruk knew that its preening display was more a show of its power and virility, rather than any attack. In fact, its paralysis and lack of any attack posture gave him hope.
“It’s not attacking,” Eiruk whispered, smiling.
Beside him, Renaer saw the same clues and said with him, “Because he can’t get in.”
Maerla Windmantle flew over the two men, pulling her gaze away from Ahghairon’s latest wonder to land next to her most-prized apprentice. “Eiruk, what do you two know?”
“The statue’s not in any offensive or defensive posture, mistress,” Eiruk whispered. “Khondar must not be any danger to the tower or its fields!”
“That might be the reason, but don’t assume more than you can prove. Ten-Rings might simply have already been accepted by the tower, and he’s controlling the statue. Let us see how this plays out. Keep your wand at ready. If spells start to fray or go wild because this thing brought magichaos with it, we’ll need all the help we can get to contain a rebirth of spellplague—especially since Ten-Rings has disrupted one of the city’s places of power.”
“And here you are.” Vajra’s voice shifted in the wind, even though she stood directly in front of them, her hands on the duskstaff as well as Elra’s. Osco, Meloon, and Laraelra shivered in the cold wind atop Blackstaff Tower again.
“Can’t you bring us anywhere warm?” Osco complained.
“Not until we’ve stopped Ten-Rings. Meloon, put the Jhaarnnan Hands down here, please.”
“I don’t suppose you’d let us try any of those rings out?” Osco asked.
Vajra’s voice alone carried enough snap to cure Osco of that notion. “Be content with the gift you have, Osco Salibuck.”
“That ring with the blue gem—what does it do?” Meloon asked.
“It looks like a spell-storing ring or one that triggers a pre-set teleport,” Vajra said. “Why?” She barely looked at Meloon as she prepared the Jhaarnnan Hands with some spells.
“I want my axe back,” Meloon said as he snatched the ring off the sculpted hand, placed it on his own, and said, “Rekarlen!”
The warrior vanished as the shriek of a stone griffon rang out across Waterdeep.
Khondar looked closely at his hand, admiring the rings he had collected over the years but focusing on his newest acquisiton. The sapphire ring of Ahghairon gleamed bright, as if carved and set only yesterday instead of four centuries ago. He felt the power of the ring thrum on his finger, and it resonated strongly when he crouched and pressed his hand flat against the next barrier. Again, thunder pealed within the barriers and all throughout the city, but Khondar had stopped laughing. His destiny was at hand, and he was but one barrier away from the tower’s surface.
F
ew had been this close to Ahghairon’s Tower since the fabled wizard’s nine apprentices sealed it after his death. Only those few possessed by the ghostly Aghairon’s Cloak ever broached the barriers or the tower, and none of them retained any memory of what wonders the tower held.
Khondar held his breath and stopped to savor the moment as his form slid through yet another barrier. He whispered, “Ahghairon, hear me. I am Khondar ‘Ten-Rings’ Naomal, master of the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors. In tribute to you, I would bring glory and power back to your city. I humbly approach your tower and take up your mantle with all the respect and honor I have. Allow me to serve your city as its Open Lord as you did.”
Ending his prayer, Khondar touched the final barrier.
Meloon blinked into existence standing knees deep among blue flames. He lost his balance but soon realized the flames were neither hot nor harming him. Meloon steadied himself atop the flat tower. He saw Ten-Rings within the magical fields directly beneath him. The wizard knelt upon other fields inside, resting a blue ring against a field that pulsed with the same energy, and he apparently hadn’t seen Meloon’s arrival.
The warrior turned and spotted his axe. He stepped close and grabbed the haft of Azuredge, which now lodged between the toe talons of a massive stone griffon. Meloon tugged at it, and a shriek sounded louder in his ears than the grinding stone of the talons as the statue reacted in pain.
Meloon readied himself to pull Azuredge loose from the magical field, bracing his feet on either side of the embedded axe. In his head, he heard the axe’s voice—
Patience, warrior. Vengeance sweetens with patience.
Vajra, Laraelra, and Osco stared out over Castle Ward from atop Blackstaff Tower, amazed at the massive form of the stone griffon. Their argument continued despite their combined wonder.
“Ten-Rings had Azuredge?” Vajra snapped. “Why didn’t someone tell me that earlier?”
“You didn’t ask,” Osco said. “So what’s your plan? Can you blast Dumb-Rings by blasting those hands?”
“Something like that.” Vajra sent her silent instructions to Laraelra, who nodded, then approached the halfling from behind.
“What do you need me to do?” Osco asked, then stepped back in surprise as Laraelra drew her dagger and dragged a long cut down the length of her index finger. She dripped blood onto the Jhaarnnan Hands and said, “He who has caused me pain, find him through this magic. Find his scent and bring him to ground.”
“Just do the same and repeat what I’m saying, little man,” Vajra said, “and think of Ten-Rings while you do.”
Before Vajra even began her litany, Osco slashed his forearm and repeated with her, “He who has caused me pain, find him through this magic. Find his scent and bring him to ground.”
Vajra nodded her thanks, and the duskstaff whirled across the roof and into her hands. With a thought, she exchanged it with the true Blackstaff, and an eerie glow surrounded the metal wolf’s head at the staff’s end. In her mind’s eye, Vajra could see the hidden library of the Blackstaff clearly, even though she remained outside the tower. Four phantom shapes, none distinct enough to be named, hovered around an image of a translucent wolf. The chorus of voices didn’t identify which of the former Blackstaffs worked with her, but they told her, We can lendyou some aid for this, which bulwarks our works of old. Be swift though, for this expenditure weakens us all for a time.
Vajra smiled, and sent back a silent response, Better to thwart this enemy now. If he is not stopped, we’ll be weakened for far longer.
The Blackstaff loomed almost a full yard taller than the young woman, but her magic and her will stood taller still. Vajra raised and then drove the true Blackstaff hard onto the stone atop Blackstaff Tower, the impact sounding like a giant’s hammer blow. She focused and whispered “Yaqrlueiehar qapeoirl suakr.”
The eyes on the staff’s wolf-head glowed green, while Osco and Elra’s wounds and eyes glowed white. The energy leeched out of all eight points, and a pair of ephemeral wolves made of white and green energy stalked around the Jhaarnnan Hands, drinking in the scent and magic of their prey. They leaped off the tower and loped their way across the skies above Waterdeep, heading toward Ahghairon’s Tower. Unearthly howls filled the air and frosted the clouds across which they raced.
Vajra finished her spell and said, “May this be enough to stop the traitor—and serve to discourage those who would follow his example.”
“Actually, I think ol’ Dumb-Rings will be discouraged enough when he realizes he doesn’t have these.” Osco grinned wide as he produced a rune-covered key and a garnet-covered dagger out of his belt pouch. “The fool didn’t notice they were gone during the tussle at Roarke House. Guess my fingers must be magical too, eh?”
Vajra and Laraelra stared in shock at the halfling, then giggled, working their way up to exhausted laughter among all three.
Khondar pulled the sheathed dagger off his belt and pressed it against the final energy barrier, but he felt more resistance than usual. He pressed it point first, then flat against the field again, and only sparks arced up his hand and forearm in response.
Khondar pulled the dagger from its sheath and screamed in anger. The blade was simple steel, and Khondar realized the gem in the pommel was an opaque red jasper, rounded and smoothly cabochon cut rather than the rose-cut garnet it was earlier. The blade held the carved words in trade Common, proclaiming the blade “Osco’s Luck.”
Khondar Naomal found a dry, hollow laugh escaping his lips despite himself. He reached into his belt pouch to withdraw his final item. “Perhaps Ahghairon’s Key could force the final barriers open anyway,” he muttered, and then realized the key he held was an ornate one to be sure, made of silver with three emeralds for its tines. It was no simple iron key like thousands of others throughout the city, but it was also not the key he needed. Some power hummed within it, but it was not a magic that would help him now. With that realization, the last glimmers of hope flickered out in Khondar.
He looked up through the fields, knowing he could still escape while the previous keys stood in place, and he paled in disbelief.
“You should be dead, boy!” he yelled.
The blond barbarian stood atop the final field, his hands around the blue axe. “I’m still striding, Ten-Rings,” he said. “How do the wagons roll for you now?”
Meloon smiled, eyes locked on Khondar’s, and brought his left hand up toward his face. Khondar could see the ring on his hand—for it matched the mundane one on his own left hand. His stomach tightened into knots as he cast a spell to fly out of the fields—
—and then he heard the unearthly howls as if they were on his heels.
Meloon’s focus on Khondar broke when the first howls drifted his way. He swallowed hard when he saw the magical wolves racing toward him. He wasn’t afraid of the wolves, but now that he looked out over the city, he realized just how high he stood above the streets—and his stomach lurched in fear.
He clutched Azuredge’s haft as strongly as he could and looked to the west, on the chance some kinder fate wait in that direction. He stared into clouds black as night and a howling wind driving snow and ice their way. Despite it being near highsun, torches and lights blazed on the castle and palace ramparts.
Meloon looked back in time to see the wolves bring their own clouds and cold trailing them as they loped around Ahghairon’s Tower. The warrior’s fear faded as he realized the wolves paid him no mind, focusing all their dark green stares at Ten-Rings, who had begun to rise out of the fields.
Have faith, kin mine. Face fear and take the leap.
The voice both calmed and shocked him. Meloon looked down at Ten-Rings and knew he had to act fast to stop him. Khondar paused to pluck small items out of the magical fields and saw the wand floating in the energy field near his left foot.
Meloon reached down and grasped the wand with his left hand, keeping his right on the axe. Khondar let loose a roar of anger contrasted with the pale look of fear on
his face. Meloon froze, holding both items in his grasp, and Azuredge twisted so her handle pointed out. Hold and take your leap of faith, my kinsman.
Meloon swallowed hard, whispered, “Lady of Smiles, I need your guidance,” and stepped backward off the fields and the tower.
With the wand in his left hand and the axe handle in his right, Meloon spread his arms above him, wand and axe dragging against the magical fields. They slowed his plummet only slightly. Meloon wondered if the look of horror on his face matched that first look on Khondar’s face when he slid past, pulling away the two outermost keys for Khondar’s escape. Any other thoughts soon left Meloon’s head as the ground rushed up far more quickly than he liked.
Faith is tested in leaps, not steps, Meloon. Azuredge’s voice was calm as ever.
To his surprise, Meloon’s racing heart slowed and he calmed as well. “So I’ve heard,” he said, and he looked down as he heard the crowd below scream and yell at his descent. Oddly, the first person he noticed as he approached was Renaer, who pointed at him. Meloon yelled, “For Waterdeep!” and expected to slam into the cobbles of the palace courtyard a breath later. Instead, he slowed to a stop as his weight disappeared and he floated the last few lengths down the tower. He blinked, and then looked down to see the ground a mere fingers-breadth away. He laughed and stepped down, turning to see Eiruk Weskur standing behind him, his hands in casting readiness.
“Meloon, watch out!” Eiruk yelled.
Meloon turned to see Khondar’s furious face right before him. He lurched backward, pulling the wand and Azuredge with him. The magical fields snapped with thunderous booms. The recoil knocked Ten-Rings off his feet, but more importantly, the fires around the tower snuffed out.
“The wolves are trailing magic and building another spell field around the tower,” Eiruk said, his eyes wide with wonderment. “They’re sealing themselves in with Khondar.”
Blackstaff Tower Page 29