by Mel Odom
“It’s a dimensional door,” Cthulad said. “But where does it go?”
Baylee was on the verge of suggesting there was only one way to find out, when a spectral voice came from behind the party.
“To the library, of course. Where else would it go?”
Baylee swung the lantern to the left, lighting the figure standing there.
The lantern’s glow robbed the cloak of its shadows, revealing the features of the being wrapped within. He was tall and striking, and probably would have been thought of as handsome in his days when life was still within him. Seeing the shriveled skin and glowing white eyes, Baylee had no doubt that the man before him was dead. Pointed elven ears stood out at the sides of his head.
“Who are you?” the ranger asked, bringing his long sword to the ready.
“I am Nevft Scoontiphp, a baelnorn charged with protecting the crypts of my family. Those crypts are now endangered by the lich you seek.” The creature regarded Baylee with its colorless gaze.
“What lich?” Baylee was aware that Cordyan had spread her men out behind him, their weapons at the ready.
“The library caretaker,” Scoontiphp replied in his eerie voice. “He calls himself Folgrim Shallowsoul these days. His mortal name is long forgotten, even by himself, I believe.”
Xuxa? Baylee prompted.
His intentions are honorable, the azmyth bat replied.
Baylee knew about baelnorns from his studies of old elven legends, but he’d never met one. Nor had he met anyone who had. “Why do you show yourself to us?” he asked. He’d always heard they were solitary creatures who didn’t like anyone outside of the family they protected to see them.
“Because there is no one else who will rise up against Shallowsoul.” A cold smile twisted the dead lips. “I even entertained ideas of supporting the drow woman’s bid for power over the lich, but she wouldn’t have me.”
“What drow woman?” Baylee asked.
“Krystarn Fellhammer. She believes that her goddess, Lloth, Queen of Spiders, led her to Shallowsoul and placed her in his control so that she might learn from the great library Glitterwing had assembled.” The baelnorn turned his head toward the tunnel with the dimensional door. “She pursues the lich now as well. Shallowsoul has been so intent on killing first Fannt Golsway, then yourself, that he has missed much of what she is doing. She’s assembled an army of hobgoblins here in these caverns and is now breaking into the library.”
“How do you know this?” Cthulad demanded.
The baelnorn flicked his dead gaze over to the old ranger. “Because I am there as well.”
Baylee remembered then that a baelnorn possessed the power to project an image across a distance. But that story had never been confirmed. Until now.
“Why should we trust you?” Cordyan asked.
“You shouldn’t,” Scoontiphp replied. “Because I seek to serve my own ends.”
“Here as well as with the drow?” Cthulad asked.
The baelnorn nodded. “Else why would I be in either place? I would gladly not suffer humans set foot in these caverns. I’ve killed dozens over the years who would not heed my warnings when they neared the crypts of my family. And I’ve killed other manner of men and near-men.”
“Then why are you here?” Baylee asked.
“Because Shallowsoul must be stopped,” Scoontiphp answered. “If that is possible. Even now, it may already be too late. He seeks to move the library, to shift from this plane into the astral plane itself. There, amid the floating rocks and bodies of dead gods, he feels he will be safe from any more interlopers. And there will be less chance of anyone coming to take the library. If he succeeds, the vacuum left by the library’s absence will be horrendous. Perhaps all of the underground will be destroyed. The library is very big.”
What do you want from us? Xuxa asked.
“In another part of these caverns,” Scoontiphp said, “I am helping Krystarn Fellhammer gain entrance to the library. She will attempt to steal as many books as she can, and in doing so, she will set off a number of alarms the lich has in place in the library. That will provide a diversion for you for a time. Maybe even enough time to succeed.”
“Succeed at what?” Cordyan asked.
The baelnorn fixed her with his dead gaze. “Weren’t you listening? Shallowsoul is a lich. As such, he will have a phylactery.”
“I don’t know what that is,” the civilar replied.
“It’s a container,” Baylee said automatically. “When a lich is created, it also creates a phylactery to hold its life essence. That way if the body is destroyed, it can be reborn in some manner.”
“Exactly,” the baelnorn replied. “I’m glad you understand the situation. You’ll also understand that we do not have much time. Krystarn Fellhammer and her hobgoblin army will be through the dimensional door she’s been using to get into the library in the next few minutes. If you wait for very much longer, your chances of success are virtually non-existent.”
“Maybe they’ll be more non-existent if we go with you,” Cordyan said.
“That’s for you to decide. In truth, you are all humans, and I could care less if you all die in this endeavor. Myth Drannor and its environs should never have had to suffer the presence of humans, dwarves, or any of the other barbarian species that came into the City of Songs and drew her down.” The baelnorn turned to the dimensional door at the end of the tunnel. “But I’m going. The only chance I see that you have is in finding the phylactery while Shallowsoul is engaged in keeping the library from being plundered by Krystarn’s hobgoblin horde.” Without another word, Scoontiphp ran into the dimensional door and promptly disappeared.
Baylee held up the lantern, making sure the baelnorn was gone. He took a fresh grip on the long sword and started forward.
“Wait,” Cordyan said. “You aren’t just going to walk through that after him, are you?”
Baylee looked at her, not believing she didn’t feel the same excitement he did at venturing into the library. “Walking is safer than running, and I feel like running.” He turned and kept going.
“Right behind you, lad,” Cthulad said.
Calebaan came as well.
Baylee stepped into the dimensional door, watching how his leg abruptly truncated as it moved on into the next plane ahead of him. Still, he could feel it. And the air in the next room felt colder than even the breezes cycling through the caverns. He heard Cordyan naming men to guard the tunnel while they were gone.
Then he passed through the dimensional door, and for a time, he knew nothing.
In front of Krystarn Fellhammer, the dimensional door continued to flutter and spark, not quite opening and staying open. She grew aware of a presence at her side. Her attention strayed from the crystal ball she focused through, angry at the interruption.
“You’ll never get through that on your own,” Nevft Scoontiphp said as he stepped through the nearby wall.
“Did you come to gloat, ghost?” Krystarn asked sarcastically. “If so, perhaps we should see how much pain you can endure before you turn and run.” She held up the morning star.
“I came to help you.”
Krystarn studied the baelnorn’s milk-white features, as fine-boned as her own face but with wrinkled skin instead of the smooth flesh she carried. “In what way?”
“To help you open that dimensional door.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
Another earthquake shivered through the hallway like a snake dying of a broken back. Scoontiphp stood in the hallway, totally unmoved by the action though Krystarn was thrown from her feet along with the hobgoblin warriors standing in lines behind her.
“If Shallowsoul is not stopped,” Scoontiphp replied, “he’s going to bring all of the caverns down on us when he takes the library to the astral plane.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Now, do you want help or not?”
“You can get us through this door?” Krystarn asked, regaining her feet.
“By helpin
g you through the crystal ball? Yes. It won’t be easy, but it can be done. I would ask one thing, though.”
“And what is that?”
“Only your promise that—should you survive your encounter with Shallowsoul—you won’t bother the crypts that are under my protection.”
Krystarn wanted to laugh at the presumption of the baelnorn. “Foolish creature, what could you have that would be worth anything near as much as what I will find in the library?”
“Nothing,” the baelnorn agreed readily. “But in your greed, you might not remember that at some future point. Though we can be allies through this, you will find I can be one of the worst enemies you’ve ever made, if need be.”
“Agreed,” the drow said. “I’ll not touch your precious crypts.” But the quick way he’d confirmed there was nothing there for her served only to whet her curiosity about the crypt area. Once she had the knowledge at her fingertips that was contained in the library, she knew the baelnorn could not stand against her.
Scoontiphp leaned forward and touched a fingertip to the crystal ball. “Now, employ your spell,” he invited.
Krystarn focused on Lloth, willing that the dark goddess grant her success. Then she chanted the spell. In moments, the dimensional door spread, becoming more and more solid.
Then it locked into place with a hissing snap. Krystarn maintained it almost effortlessly. She peered through the opening, thinking the baelnorn might have tried to trick her in some manner into jumping somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.
Instead, she saw the library.
“Chomack,” she said in a hoarse, strained voice.
“Aye, sorceress.”
“Follow me.” Krystarn tightened her grip on her morning star and strode through.
27
Stacks of books swarmed into Baylee’s view at the other end of the dimensional door. For a moment, he couldn’t do anything but turn slowly around and try to take it in. Shelves extended up into the shadows that clung to the ceiling far overhead, until they finally vanished. But he knew the books didn’t end there.
Half a dozen stairs ran up in spirals twisting along the walls. From the way they were laid out, he felt certain that all of them lead to other areas, not simply higher up. He sheathed the sword, walking over to the nearest shelves. He could barely make out a title in one of the written languages known to him: The Creation of Dragons. Other books on the same shelf seemed to deal with dragons as their topic as well. So did the books above and below.
He reached for a book bound in maple, the red and white striped wood as polished and finished as any piece of furniture he’d ever seen. An ornate mist dragon, more noticeable because of the small ears and wedge-shaped head outfitted with a trailing mustache, glowed silver-blue on the book cover. Beside it was a book that looked like it had been bound in plates carved from running water. He could even hear the sound of water rushing by.
“Don’t,” Scoontiphp warned in a harsh voice.
Hold, Xuxa echoed.
Baylee stayed his hand with difficulty.
“If you touch any of those books,” the baelnorn went on, “you’ll bring Shallowsoul down on us immediately. Once you have the phylactery and have defeated him, if possible, then you can search through these books to your heart’s content.”
Reluctantly, Baylee took his hand back. He noticed Calebaan standing next to him, the same hungry look in his eyes that Baylee was certain was in his own.
“You’re wasting time we don’t have,” the baelnorn called from the bottom of a flight of stairs.
Darkness filled the library, beaten back only by the lanterns the party carried. Baylee thought he spotted things crawling and twisting in the shadows. Using both hands, he secured the lantern to his chest with straps from the gnomish leather.
“How far to the phylactery?” the ranger asked. Ahead of him, Xuxa flew around the curve of the spiral staircase and disappeared.
“I don’t know,” Scoontiphp answered. “But we’re getting closer. I can sense it,”
Baylee let his free hand trail along the edge of the stairway. He glanced down, seeing the floor they’d just left disappear into the darkness again. Reaching into one of his pockets, he took out a piece of chalk that glowed yellow in the darkness. He sketched a quick arrow pointing back the way they’d come. The library was huge by any account, and he didn’t want to get lost in case they had to hurry back.
“Will the dimensional door be there when we get back?” the ranger asked.
“It should be,” the baelnorn answered.
Long minutes later, they reached the top of the stairs. Baylee’s heart beat rapidly, and he breathed hard from the exertion. The drow blood had dried on him, making the skin across his face pull tight.
Two stone columns occupied space to either side of the stairwell. Scoontiphp seemed to scent the air like a hound, though Baylee doubted that was possible because the baelnorn—from all accounts—didn’t breathe.
Then, in the distance, came the sound of men fighting, the crash of steel and the hoarse yells of agony. For a moment, Baylee thought the battle was coming toward the party, then he realized it was only the beginning sounds of the fight overtaking them from the right.
Scoontiphp turned and headed to the left. “Come on. Shallowsoul can only be minutes away.”
Krystarn Fellhammer watched the dead rise from the floor of the library. She held a bag of holding, stuffing one tome after another into the cloth. “Chomack!”
The hobgoblin chieftain tore himself free of the group he was leading in their plundering. He hefted a battle-axe he’d evidently acquired during his underground reaving, and charged the first of the undead.
She was a wiry woman who wielded a curved scimitar in flashing swipes. She hadn’t quite made it out of the hole in the stone floor that had evidently served as her final resting place when Chomack brought the battle-axe down in a two-handed stroke that almost cleaved her in half. She dropped at once.
Another man erupted from the floor in front of Krystarn. She finished shoving the book into her bag, then blocked the poorly aimed dagger blow with the small buckler on her wrist. Backhanding the morning star and putting as much of her weight into the blow as she could, she almost took the dead man’s face from his head. He stumbled backward into two more rising corpses and knocked them to the ground in a flail of limbs.
The hobgoblins attacked en masse, outnumbering their already dead opponents. But the risen dead accounted for a number of the hobgoblins. The corpses refused to die by most killing strokes, requiring a blow that crushed the skull.
“You would steal from me, Krystarn Fellhammer?”
The drow elf glanced up at a high balcony overhead.
Shallowsoul leaned on the railing, peering down at her. He gestured, and Krystarn saw the ripple of magic energy leave his hand. She turned and fled, dodging through a pair of the walking dead.
Something crawled across the back of Krystarn’s neck. She slapped at it with her free hand, crushing something with a crunch just as teeth bit into her flesh. Harsh groans of pain and anger from the hobgoblins echoed behind her as she raced for the library stack in front of her. She vaulted up onto the shelves, placed her empty hand on top, and leaped over to come crashing down on the other side.
A dead youth with sightless eyes reached up for her, mouth open to show rotted teeth. Krystarn quelled her revulsion as she landed on the dead boy. The corpse tried to wrap its arms around her. The drow lashed out with her morning star, breaking one of the arms with a brittle snap. Then she smashed the corpse’s face and head.
Wheeling as she got to her feet, Krystarn ran to the end of the bookcase. She looked up on the balcony again and spotted Shallowsoul urging his undead minions on. She gathered her mystical energies, summoning her spell, unfolding it clearly in her head, then she threw it at the lich. Lightning bolts danced from her fingertips, streaking for Shallowsoul.
As expected, the lich blocked the brunt of the attack. The lightning bo
lts pealed thunder as they slid off Shallowsoul’s shield and touched the stacks of books beside him. The paper of the books immediately caught fire, blazing high. It bothered Krystarn to see the damage being done to the books, possibly irreplaceable knowledge being destroyed once and for all, but not nearly as much as it caused consternation in the lich.
Shallowsoul screamed loud and long, and turned his attention to the burning books.
Krystarn looked about the library, seeing the hobgoblins still warring with the risen dead. Slowly and steadily, the hobgoblin army was being decimated.
“Sorceress,” Chomack rumbled. “We are dying.”
Krystarn faced the chieftain, seeing blood painted across his terrible features. “You’ll raise another army, Taker of Dragon’s Teeth. After this battle, you’ll be known far and wide. Hobgoblins seeking a leader to help them wrest their fortunes from others will flock to you.”
Chomack didn’t appear content with her announcement, but he didn’t attack either.
“Gather your men,” Krystarn said. “We’re going to go up further into the library.”
“We should escape.”
Krystarn pointed back the way they had come. “The dimensional door we used to get here has been wiped away. I can’t open another that way. We’ll have to kill the lich if we can, and find another way out if we can’t.”
“Where’s the white elf?” the hobgoblin chieftain demanded. “He helped you open the door the first time. He can help you open it again.”
“If you find him, let me know.”
Chomack growled, then turned and neatly sliced the head from the shoulders of a dead woman approaching him from behind. “He’s run off then?”
“I don’t know.” Krystarn looked back the way she’d come when Shallowsoul had launched his magical attack. Beetles swarmed the hobgoblins and the undead in the area. The hobgoblins fared the best, suffering only from the bites while the undead became feasting grounds for the beetles.