The view in the large oval mirror brightened and swirled with mists of shifting hues. Then the mists dulled to grey and thickened, and it seemed they raced through a bank of clouds. Bursting out into the clear, they saw far ahead a peculiar structure. Black as night, it perched upon seven angular legs set into what appeared to be an immense hill of black stone. In fact, it looked rather like an odd spider.
“Xakra’s Lair!” cried Borgland.
“It would make sense,” mused Shay, “since we know the gems are in the hands of priestesses of that dark deity. But it does not look quite...right. Let us move in closer.”
As the view approached, details became apparent, and they realized their mistake.
“Invert the view,” commanded Shay. The orientation reversed, and they gazed on an awesome sight. The legs were now spires that projected from a base structure and thrust into the black mass overhead. A black tornado, sheathed in green radiance, swirled down between the spires into the building proper. The maelstrom looked far too familiar for comfort, and several in the room glanced out the windows in the direction of the oncoming storm.
“We’re stuck!” said Marris as she peered in the mirror. The view remained at a set distance, despite attempts to get closer.
"We appear to be up against some sort of shield," Shay said. "But I am not sure moving closer would be prudent even if we could. The forces at work here must be titanic. If this scrying were tracked back to us..."
The room was silent for several long moments.
"I’m curious," Shay continued, "about what kind of storm it is that this structure is tapping into. It looks like—"
"I’m curious about the storm...” Nazrael mocked in a whiny voice. “It’s not a storm, you fool, it's The Void! That’s the seventh plane of the Nine Hells! And that," he added, pointing at a winged creature wheeling past on the periphery of the scene, "is a dragon, so we are viewing The Void from Pytt, the eighth plane of the Nine Hells, realm of dragons."
Nazrael’s contemptuous tone riled Shay, but he reminded himself of the man’s unfortunate condition and restrained his reply. "Please, Nazrael, be serious!"
"I am serious, you pointy-eared twit!" the mage snapped. "I’ve seen it! Just once, mind you, when I collected a sample of Void essence, but I have seen it. Have you?"
Shay was stunned silent, though the other mages looked at Nazrael with new respect.
“So what do you think they’re doing?” asked Prael.
"Given what we've seen here, and that storm over the mountains,” Nazrael expostulated, “I’d say they're drawing Void essence into that structure and discharging it into our world!"
“And we just happen to be in the right place to observe this discharge?” Shay had grown accustomed to being the one to whom others came for information and advise, and Nazrael’s usurpation of that role irked him.
Nazrael rolled his eyes. “I’d say that they were funneling it through their cities. We’ve already discerned that there’s one beneath the mountains beyond Zellohar Keep, and there are undoubtedly others scattered throughout the world. By discharging through each city, they hasten their objective.”
“Which is?” Borgland asked breathlessly.
Nazrael shrugged. “Wiping the slate clean. Ridding the world of their opposition—us. Void essence is a type of negative energy. It absorbs whatever positive energy it touches until it's canceled out. Basically, it extinguishes life."
Amid the exclamations of dismay from those assembled, Shay reluctantly accepted Nazrael’s logic. All the pieces fit into the puzzle. He looked at the growing gloom outside the window, and shivered in the chill that invaded the workshop despite the blazing fire and multitude of bodies.
"QUIET!" DoHurley bellowed in a voice pitched to penetrate the din of battle. "So, this Void essence is causin' the storm. What the bloody hells do we do about it?"
"We have three possible choices," Shay said before Nazrael could open his mouth. "First, we could gather all the mages in the keep and try to overload the storm with positive energy. There are enough of us that we could at least slow its growth."
"But you're just treating a symptom, not the disease itself," Brok observed.
Shay nodded curtly toward the priest. "You are correct. And I think we all agree that we need to strike at the heart of this problem. Our second choice is to attack the Dark Gods' city to prevent them from channeling the Void essence through to this world."
"That would help," Prael said thoughtfully, "but as Nazrael pointed out, there are dark-worshiper cities throughout the world, so taking out a single city may only prolong the inevitable. Essence from other cities would eventually envelop us."
"Which leaves us with choice three, attacking the source." Shay waved at the display in the mirror.
“Do you think the dragons are behind it?” Revria asked.
“Likely not,” said Nazrael. “The ones we see here seem to be attacking the structure, or its shield, anyway. Dragons are quite protective of Pytt, and it’s horribly difficult to get their permission to traverse it. I approached from Lair, realm of trolls and orcs and such. It was easier to work from.”
“So Pytt is where we need to go, but we need a means of travel. Nazrael, how did you travel to Lair?” Shay asked.
The obnoxious mage looked away. “I...uh...accompanied my master. He’s the one who cast the spells of interplanar travel.”
The room settled into an uneasy silence. They all jumped as thunder cracked violently outside the window, then again when DoHurley slammed his palm on the table.
"Well, I know what I’m doin’," the king declared. "I don’t know how ye’d mount an attack inta the Nine Hells, but me people know how ta wage war underground, and that’s what we’re gonna do!" He hefted his axe and drew the edge across his right palm; blood welled and dripped onto the blade's polished surface. "By me own blood I declare that from this moment forward, a state o' war exists between the Dwarves of Zellohar, and the Nations o' the Dark Gods. I know I said I didn’t want ye startin’ no war, but they done started it. And we’ll," he smiled grimly, “be the ones ta finish it.”
Shay looked toward the mirror, but the view had faded when the mages turned their attention to the discussion. It was all very well to take out the dark worshipers’ city, but the gems, at least one, and likely both, were in this fortress in Pytt. They had to go there, but how? He voiced the question.
None of the assembled mages were powerful enough to cast the spells required for interplanar travel, and they were the most powerful of the guests at Refuge. The necessary spells might reside in Iveron Darkmist's library, but learning them would take months if not years. They didn’t have the luxury of time.
“Priests and priestess can sometimes travel into the realms of their deities,” Brok said, “but the travel is usually accomplished by the spirit, not the physical body. The Goddess of Beauty has not seen fit to bless me with such grace as yet.”
Shay nodded; Tem had not granted Shay that ability either. He felt a twinge of guilt as he considered his spiritual neglect of late, and hoped that almighty Tem would forgive his lapse.
"I'll be sendin' a sizable force inta the deep earth as soon as may be,” said DoHurley. “All o' ye here, and all o' the people o' Refuge, are welcome ta ride out this storm in the deep cavern's o' Zellohar. And any o' ye with a hankerin' ta spill dark-worshiper blood are welcome ta come along on the attack."
"If we are unable to find some means to travel to The Void, that may well include all of us, good King." Shay said ruefully. Then he noticed Borgland fidgeting and avoiding everyone’s eyes, coughing in little fits and starts.
“Borgland,” he said impatiently. “Do you have something to say?”
The mage put a hand to his breast and sighed. “There is,” he said slowly, “within the realm, an artifact created for the purpose of interplanar travel. The Starstone. It belongs to the Emperor’s archmage, Belregash." Borgland laughed briefly and without humor. “But he’ll never part with
it, nor do I think you could convince him to participate in such a dangerous venture."
"You know him?" Shay asked hopefully.
"I, uh, was once friendly with him, Master Shay," Borgland said uncomfortably. "Suffice to say that that failed friendship was the reason for my fleeing Fengotherond. I have seen the Starstone, but it hasn’t been out of its display case for years."
“We have a friend among the Royal Retinue,” Shay said eagerly, “and another is a high-raking City Guard official. The next question is: how do we get to Fengotherond quickly? With the storm growing as it is, conventional travel will take far too long.” He reached up to pull a tome off of a bookshelf. “Perhaps I have something here that will—“
A dagger thunked into the wood of the bookshelf, pinning Shay’s sleeve. He turned and stared at Avari as she struggled to break free of the strong hands of Hufferrrerrr, Tinarre, and DoHeney.
“You lying bastards!” she shouted. “You said you’d find Jundag. Well, I'm not listening to your promises anymore, Shay. It's clear to me that I'm the only one here who gives a damn about Jundag, so I'll find my own way to get him back! I was a fool to trust you in the first place!"
“Avari!” Shay admonished. “Do you not understand what is happening here? This is much larger than one man’s life! How do you expect us to put this aside to go on a wild-goose chase!”
“What’s the matter, Shay?” she taunted. “Don’t you have any magical beasts to attack me this time? Because you’re going to wish that you did!” Brok now joined DoHeney and the others in restraining Avari as she tried to unsheathe Gaulengil.
The mages backed away. They had seen Avari’s temper, and had no wish to be between her and Shay. Lynthalsea tossed her gaze back and forth between the woman and her brother, as if trying to choose sides.
Only DoHurley stood still, his one eye narrowed in thought. “She’s right,” he said, then again more loudly. “She’s right!”
All looked at him, and even Avari stopped struggling. DoHurley approached her, placed his broad axe upon the floor, and dropped to one knee before it. Bowing his own head, he spread his hands wide in supplication.
"Lass, I’ve wronged ye gravely. I promised ta aid ye in yer quest ta rescue the lost Liberator o' Zellohar, but when things went awry, I conveniently fergot that pledge. I now recall it and pledge it anew, fer none may call the King o' Zellohar a liar."
Shay watched, astounded. What was DoHurley doing? He was even more surprised when the king rose and pointed directly at him.
“Git back ta that mirror!”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty?” Shay managed.
“All o’ ye wizards, git back ta the mirror and find Jundag! We promised Avari, and we’ll be keepin’ our promises. Them dark cities ain’t goin’ nowhere, and a few more minutes ain’t gonna change the end this way or that. An’ if Jundag ain’t where we’re headin’, then I’m sure I kin spare a few dwarves ta find him.”
Shay was about to protest when he saw Avari’s face. There was new hope there, however tentative.
"Very well. Concentrate again on Jundag,” Shay told his colleagues. "We owe Avari this much," he looked at her, his heart breaking at their shattered friendship, "at the very least."
Silently, the wizards gathered around the mirror and performed their scrying. Immediately, the great black fortress in the realm of the dragons appeared.
"I don't believe it!" Shay muttered, shaking his head.
"They musta taken the lad with 'em!" DoHeney said, patting Avari's arm.
“Well,” Avari said as she wiped her tears, a grim smile on her face. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go to hell!”
CHAPTER 22
Refuge no longer warranted its name. Gone were those who had depended on its strong walls for safety. Only a small party remained perched atop the gatehouse, huddled behind the battlements to avoid the wind, bidding their friends farewell.
Avari strained her eyes, but Tinarre and the few who accompanied him were already out of sight. She had charged him with alerting the officials in Beriknor of the oncoming storm, then continuing on, if possible, to Searest to prepare and hold tight there. She had given Bo one final carrot as a treat, and a kiss on his warm, soft nose, before handing his lead to the woodling and sending them on their way.
Now she faced east, toward the infernal darkness of the storm, and waved at the dwarves and the Refuge residents who trudged toward Zellohar through the swirling dust and ice. One small figure bundled in cloaks and furs waved back. DoHeney had decided to accompany his kinsmen rather than travel to Fengotherond and The Void. His reasoning was that he could be most useful underground.
“Besides,” he’d said as he looked her in the eye, “if Jundag ends up back in that there dark city, I’ll be there ta rescue him.”
Avari had hugged her friend tightly, and even felt him hug her back, despite his aversion to demonstrations of affection.
“It is time,” said Shay as he turned his back on the towering dark clouds and forks of black lightening that continued to expand over the mountains. The rest of the party followed.
Avari cast an approving eye over her companions. Shay had traded his crimson robes for dark blue, hemmed with silver and gold arcane symbols: Very wizardy, she thought. Brok resembled a canine paladin in his silver mail and white surcoat and cape. Lynthalsea, close by his side, contrasted starkly in a dark leather tunic, pants, and fur cloak. Hufferrrerrr, as always, hovered protectively at Avari’s side, clad in his one cloak and insisting that it sufficed.
"At the leasting it will be being warmer in Fengotherond," Hufferrrerrr said with a toothy grin.
“Yes,” agreed Shay. “And I am sure that Yenjil will provide the utmost in hospitality.”
Avari’s eagerness to be underway immediately tempered at the mention of the captain of the guard. She had been so caught up in preparing for this trip, she had forgotten that they would visit Yen to beg his assistance in borrowing the Starstone. Her stomach clenched in apprehension.
Once in the workshop, Shay dusted the hoarfrost from several of the tomes he'd rescued from Zellohar and tucked them into a pack, then retrieved the two golden stands on his desk and positioned them carefully on the pentagram etched into the floor. He placed a gem in each stand, and waved Lynthalsea over.
"Now, it is vital that we bring the cornerstones with us. I can use them to augment my spells, and I think we will need all the help we can get. So Lynthalsea, I will need your assistance."
"What do I need to do?" she asked, eying the gems warily. "I hope you don't expect me to help you with the spell."
"No, no. All you need do is keep one hand on the gem in that stand, while I do the same with this one. The spell I am casting will transport us and whatever we are touching. But, as you know, I cannot touch more than one gem at a time."
"That sound's easy enough." She placed her hand atop one gem, and he the other.
"Good. Now everyone, ensure you are fully inside the pentagram."
This was slightly more difficult, considering Hufferrrerrr's length and Brok's broad shoulders. Finally, Avari coaxed the leotaur to sit, and stood with her legs astride his hind quarters. Brok wrapped an arm around Lynthalsea's shoulders.
"Good enough," Shay murmured. He unrolled a scroll and began to read the indecipherable language of magic.
Avari felt her ears pop and her stomach lurch, and they were instantaneously elsewhere.
I hope ye know what'n The Delver's bag o' tricks yer doin', boyo, DoHeney said to himself as he glanced a final time at Avari waving wildly to him from atop the keep wall. He waved back, then lost sight of his friends through the storm. I jist plunked one o' the most powerful artifacts in the world inta the hand o' a wizard who's not only half nutty with power, but about ta step inta a nest o' dark worshipin' maniacs! I must be daft!
But DoHurley and he had agreed after discussing the matter; the need to quell the tempest of Void essence far outweighed the danger of losing the cornerstones to the dark
worshipers. Shay was intimately familiar with the gems, and could use their power to augment his own, which could make the difference between success and failure. An’ good luck ta anyone that tries to take them rocks from Shay! he thought direly.
DoHeney squinted nervously into the storm as he guided the refugees in his charge. With these winds, using the cliffside trail was out of the question. DoHurley had insisted that all the residents of Refuge don blindfolds once they entered the vale because they would enter Zellohar through a portal known only to the king. The refugees were not enthusiastic. But when Irielnea readily allowed her eyes to be covered, the rest complied. It helped that they had brought all the livestock from Refuge; the residents grasped the tails, manes and ears of the horses, cows, and goats, and the dwarves herded the lot along.
"Pay attention, everyone," DoHurley shouted above the tempest as he halted them about twenty feet from the cliff face. “I’m gonna open the portal. When I holler, you dwarves lead everyone in. Me boys, keep yer eyes on our guests. You Refuge folk, keep those blindfolds on and yer eyes closed. This here’s a secret entrance. If ye peek ta see where ye are, I’ll leave ye out here ta freeze ta death!"
Everyone did as requested, and the king of Zellohar went to open the portal. DoHeney watched his charges carefully; none showed any sign of trying to peek. After several minutes, he carefully walked backward until he was nearly to the cliff face.
“Hey, what’re ye doin’ here?” DoHurley whispered harshly, though none could hear him over the wind. DoHeney waved blithely.
“I ain’t lookin’. Besides, it seemed like ye was takin’ an awful long time ta open this here door. Is everythin’ all right?”
“I can’t seem ta find the keyhole,” the king admitted as he ran his fingers desperately over the rough stone. "I've only passed this way once, and that was from the other side! I know this here signet ring is the key, but I might as well stick it up me arse fer all the good it's doin' me now!"
Jundag Page 19
