Probably used to being ignored when folks spoke Illanese, she obliviously wandered around the perimeter of the room, looking at the bookshelves before discovering the full-length mirror set in the corner.
Deciding to let things be, Ayez took a seat on the opposite side of the table, facing the northern windows. He propped his staff against the dark-grained furniture and placed both hands on the table’s smooth surface, leaning forward so he could speak softly. “I was worried when we learned you’d been taken into the desert. I can’t imagine it was for friendly purposes, but I was glad to know your friends were going after you.” He was looking expectantly at Saffron, who regarded him coolly.
“Is that supposed to be some kind of apology?” she asked. “Your cabal employed me for their own purposes and then didn’t live up to their side of the bargain.”
Ayez sighed in exasperation. “We just needed more time. We didn’t expect that the Wolf—” He looked over his shoulder at Rhazine, then quieted his rising voice, “that the Wolfspider would seek to be rid of you so quickly after our meeting. Which only makes me wonder if someone may be feeding him information. Do you really think it’s wise to have his daughter here?”
“Rhazine’s just another victim of her father’s unscrupulous dealings.” Saffron made no attempt to stifle the volume of her voice, and Rhazine turned her head toward them, though only for an instant, after hearing her name. “She was being sent as a requested offering to Hadrian No More, and the Wolfspider needed us to intervene.”
Ayez raised his eyebrows. “I imagine the Wolfspider has at least an inkling of what the Dread Lich is capable of.” He sat back in his chair and took another deep breath, relaxing with the exhalation. “Very well. You have your freedom, I see.” Ayez extended a flat palm toward Saffron. “Why then have you returned to us?”
Be’naj worried that Saffron wasn’t ready to let her grudge go and decided to ensure the direction of the conversation. “Shecclad has informed us of Hadrian No More’s true agenda,” she blurted. That certainly seized Ayez’s attention. “As the Champion of Luprak, he is attempting to bring Elisahd in concurrence with the Plane of Shadow.”
Ayez stifled an uncomfortable chuckle. “What does that even mean? I’ve been working against the corrupting influence of the Dread Lich for many years now, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Be’naj folded her hands together and placed them on top of the table. “I am the new Champion of Shecclad, the Sky Lord. We spoke to him directly on Ishmere, and he informed us that Hadrian No More is the active Champion of Luprak.”
Ayez puffed his cheeks and shook his head slowly. “I admit, I am not well informed of the pantheon beyond those gods vying for influence in Zeblon. But are you suggesting you visited the realm of the gods?”
“We did, Ayez,” Saffron calmly confirmed. “We entered Ancient Tarmuth and used the portals there to travel to other worlds. You should listen to her.”
Be’naj gave Saffron a grateful nod before continuing her narrative. “Luprak is the God of Night and Inevitable Doom. There was once a prominent faction of his among the Eladrin, and my people all know the story of how his followers were banished from the forests and sought refuge in the darkness, underground.”
“This is very heady stuff, Be’naj,” Ayez said, though he didn’t look away.
She continued. “There are four Touchstones on our world, and each is attuned to one of the Elemental Planes – that keeps us connected to them and enables their material to be present in relative balance. Channeling Luprak’s power, Hadrian No More seeks to realign those Touchstones to the Plane of Shadow. If he is able to change all four, that Plane would envelop us completely. Who knows what dire consequences that would bring?”
“We need the Circle of Twelve’s help. Be’naj can alter and lock the Touchstones, but we don’t have a clue where they are,” Saffron added. “For all we know, Hadrian No More is working with a significant head start.”
Ayez clicked his tongue. “This sounds like a serious issue, but I admit ignorance of anything like these Touchstones you mention.” He straightened in his chair and placed his hands flat upon the table. “That doesn’t mean much, however, for my focus is Chaos Magic, and this is far from that. We should bring in Ezmina – she’s the Twelve’s archivist and a talented augur to boot. I’d wager if it’s mentioned in a book, she’s come across it.” He stood. “She’s likely in the library right now. Why don’t we move to the parlor, and I’ll see who else I can round up?”
Be’naj and Saffron stood, following Ayez out of the room and into the great hall. Rhazine lingered at the mirror, but Saffron didn’t mention anything to her.
“You can make yourselves at home in the parlor, through there,” Ayez said, pointing to the open doorway on the opposite side of the room. “The library is upstairs, and I’ll gather whoever else is available. We’ll join you in a few moments.” He started up the curved staircase toward the balcony, and Saffron led the way to the parlor.
The sitting room looked tremendously comfortable. The floor sank toward the center, and two tiers of fur-lined couches ringed the depression. Wide windows on two of the walls allowed ample sunshine to fill the space, with the southern panes set upon hinges and opened to let in a pleasant ocean breeze. A hallway, leading deeper into the house, split the remaining wall.
Saffron propped her spear against the wall, then selected a position on the lower couch that provided a view of the great hall. Once seated, she sank back into the cushions, looking exhausted. Be’naj unbuckled the scabbard of her Celestial sword and sat close beside Saffron. She placed the sheathed sword across her lap and a hand on Saffron’s knee.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked. “You seem a little tense. I thought returning to our world would at least bring some comfort.”
Saffron straightened her posture and smiled. “It does, Be’naj. And knowing you’re with me helps more than I can put into words. It’s just, dealing with these people again …” She shook her head. “And now that we’re here, I don’t think I can leave Zeblon without trying to free the gladiators who fought beside me. We have a key to the collars; it wouldn’t be right to leave them.”
Be’naj squeezed Saffron’s knee and nodded. “I’ll fight beside you if that’s what it takes – I’m with you, no matter what.” Be’naj turned her head at the sudden sound of footsteps behind her.
Rhazine skirted hastily to the couch and sat beside Saffron. Leisurely entering the parlor behind her was the tiefling Be’naj had met briefly during her previous visit. Her skin began itching as he drew near, an effect similar to what she experienced when in proximity to the Tanar-ri in the Abyss. More important than her discomfort was the fact that he wore the Living Fire pendant around his neck!
“Ah, so it is true,” Sirran said nonchalantly. “When I heard that the Crimson Scorpion had returned to our house, it was something I had to see with my own eyes.”
“Where did you get that jewel?” Saffron asked immediately, the accusation clear by her tone.
“What, this?” Sirran answered, extending his slender, long-nailed fingers as his hand passed over his chest. “I found it in the Desert of a Thousand Regrets. It was lying in the sand near the buried city of Tarmuth. Your tracks led to the door, but I couldn’t find a way in myself.”
“The Living Fire belongs to Saffron,” Be’naj interjected as Ayez and a few others filed into the room past the stoic Sirran.
“Lady Saffron!” exclaimed an alluring woman with a mix of human and eladrin features. She stepped down to the room’s center to greet her guests more intimately. Saffron stood and the two women embraced, though Saffron’s engagement didn’t seem heartfelt. “None of us were sure when we’d see you again after the Lodestone didn’t work, but we worried when you vanished into the sands. And this must be Be’naj!” The woman’s white dress was expertly tailored to enhance her already regal appearance. She extended her arms expectantly, and Be’naj succumbed to the pr
essure by standing to hug the stranger.
“Ezmina, this is Rhazine,” Saffron said, gesturing to the still-seated Begnari.
“Yes, the Wolfspider’s daughter, no less?” Ezmina stated as she withdrew from her embrace of Be’naj, though she offered no additional greeting to her final guest. “How wonderful,” she added, forcing a smile before taking a seat on the sofa across from Be’naj. Unsure of what the proper protocol was in these lands, Be’naj awkwardly waited to sit until Saffron did so herself.
“Well, yes, I suppose brief introductions are in order,” Ayez said, turning his head to account for everyone present. “I am Ayez the Many-Colored, and seated with you is Ezmina Skysilk, our Archivist. Here we have Sirran, our Unseen Seer, Groilen, our Illusionist, and I don’t think you’ve ever met Resasha, our Pact Shaper.”
Resasha, who appeared to be Begnari, nodded. Her dark-painted lips and multiple facial piercings, combined with her black leather suit, gave her an aura of intimidation.
“I’ve briefly shared with Ezmina and the others what you said about the Touchstones,” Ayez continued, “but I wanted them to hear it from you directly, as I’m hardly the expert and couldn’t supply many details.”
“I have read some on the Touchstones,” Ezmina took over, “but would appreciate hearing exactly what you’ve told Ayez. It might help me select the best resources.”
Be’naj looked at Saffron, who nodded her assent, and then explained in greater precision everything she’d gleaned about Hadrian No More’s agenda from their conversation with Shecclad. By the time she finished, the faces of the Circle of Twelve looked as if they were attending a funeral.
Groilen shook his head. “I knew his evil was far-reaching, but this is beyond anything I’d conceived.”
Ayez nodded his agreement. “It’s clear we cannot let the Dread Lich’s plan come to fruition.”
“It would mean disaster for all of Elisahd,” Saffron reiterated. “That’s why we need your help. Be’naj has to reach these Touchstone before Hadrian No More, and we have no idea where to find them.”
“What do you think, Ezmina? You say you’ve come across tomes regarding these sites?” Ayez asked.
She nodded slightly, acknowledging the question, though she stared vacantly ahead, her face pale. “My people, the Ellafous,” she started without any hint of emotion, “became the guardians of many eladrin secrets and ancestral knowledge when the firstborn retreated after the Revenge of Arkmus. Though I have read of the existence of the Touchstones, there is only one source I’m aware of that details their precise location and magical properties.”
“And you’re familiar with the book?” Be’naj asked, cautiously hopeful.
Ezmina seemed to snap out of whatever reverie had claimed her, and her eyes softened as she turned to Be’naj. She nodded as she spoke, “The Grimoire Precario.” Ezmina looked over her shoulder at Ayez, who was sitting on a higher tiered seat. “It is a famous book – Icharnius the Black stole it from Luin-menel nearly three centuries ago.”
Ayez shut his eyes and exhaled heavily through his nose.
“Of course he did,” said Sirran the tiefling, the hint of a smile in his voice.
“Who is Icharnius the Black?” Be’naj asked, wishing Shapers in general would do a better job of explaining to the uninitiated.
“He was the renowned necromancer who apprenticed Hadrian No More. An absolute master of the Darker Arts.” Resasha sounded as if she held this necromancer in great esteem.
“And what became of him?” Saffron pushed, an edge of irritation reflecting Be’naj’s own faltering patience.
Groilen cleared his throat and answered directly, “Hadrian No More ended him when he discovered his master’s plan to sacrifice him in order to achieve Lichdom.”
Be’naj lifted her eyebrows and inwardly shrugged. That seemed like a fair response on the part of their adversary. “So, we’re assuming Hadrian No More now has the book?”
Ezmina smiled wanly and nodded. “It makes the most sense. Especially if he’s already pursuing the Touchstones.”
Saffron shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. We still have to do something. All your combined magic has to be good for something.”
“We can steal the book ourselves,” Sirran responded dryly. Groilen looked at him like he was insane. “I don’t imagine the Dread Lich would expect such a course,” the tiefling added.
Groilen snorted. “Damn right he wouldn’t, because he lives in the Iron Fortress, surrounded by a thousand corrupted souls that do his bidding.”
“Where is Hadrian No More’s Fortress?” Be’naj asked, wanting to give Sirran’s proposal a fair chance.
Groilen snorted again while crossing his arms across his chest. “In the Plane of Shadow.”
“Do you know how to get there?” Saffron asked, undaunted.
“We know the Shadow Gate his lieutenants use,” answered Sirran, the Living Fire casting an eerie red glow upon his horned chin. “It’s on the western side of the Fire-Wall Mountains.”
“Three hundred miles away!” Groilen scoffed. “Across the desert.”
“One could sail up the River Chelhos, almost to Lucnere,” Ayez admitted. He shrugged when Groilen stared at him. “It wouldn’t be too far overland from there.”
“I’ve been there,” Be’naj mentioned meekly, though no one acted as if they’d heard.
“How would we get the book from him?” Saffron asked, feeding the exchange.
“Not by force, certainly,” Sirran said, tapping the tips of his ruddy index fingers together in front of his lips. He still remained near the entrance of the room with Resasha, and started pacing as he spoke. “We would have to use subterfuge – either complete non-detection or some sort of distraction. The undead don’t sense my life force the same way they would the rest of you.”
“A blessing of the Lower Planes,” Groilen derided.
“So, you’re coming with us?” Be’naj couldn’t keep from asking. She didn’t look forward to itching for weeks on end.
“Hadrian No More was particularly interested in acquiring Rhazine …”
“Saffron!” Be’naj exclaimed. “We’re not using her as bait.”
Saffron held up her palms. “I’m just thinking out loud. Maybe we can use it to our advantage?”
Ayez sighed and leaned back upon the couch, fixing his gaze to the ceiling. “If you were to parlay with the Dread Lich, and I can’t believe I’m even stating that as an option, you would need a quick avenue of escape. Otherwise, you’re all risking fates worse than death.” He leveled his eyes at Groilen, who seemed to interpret his look a moment later.
“Oooh, Myalyssa’s not going to like that,” he said, shaking his head. “Those Teleportation Runes cost a fortune and took her almost two moons to create. Each!”
“But what better use for them?” Ezmina added. “We’re talking about warding off eternal dimness upon Elisahd.”
Groilen lifted his hands. “As long as I’m not the one telling her …”
“So we’ll need passage on a ship to Lucnere as well as these Teleportation Runes. Now who all is coming with us?” Saffron asked.
The Circle of Twelve dropped suddenly silent, and the parlor was filled with downcast eyes.
“Sirran?” Saffron asked. “You sounded eager to pull this off.”
“You would be the best choice,” Ayez added. “Unseen Seer and all.”
The tiefling fixed a stare at Ayez that might have been peering into his soul.
“No one else, then?” Saffron asked. “Alright, when can we leave?”
Be’naj gasped. “I think we should ask Rhazine how she feels about entering the presence of a powerful necromancer who wants to ritualistically sacrifice her.” She knew Saffron wasn’t keen on sitting idle, but that wasn’t an adequate excuse for placing others in danger.
Saffron shut her eyes briefly and shook her head. “Of course. I’m sorry. She should absolutely have a say – though I don’t see how we’re going to
get close enough without her,” Saffron added under her breath. She turned to Rhazine and started speaking quickly in Begnari.
Be’naj watched the young woman’s face closely, holding her breath as she awaited Rhazine’s decision. Saffron was right – they hadn’t come up with a second option on how to get close to the Dread Lich’s bookshelves.
A few nods from both Begnari women ensued as they conversed, and then suddenly Saffron leaned in and embraced Rhazine. “She’ll go with us!” Saffron reported, “But she wants to see her father again afterward.”
“Is that wise?” Be’naj asked, feeling nevertheless relieved.
“Probably not,” Saffron shrugged. “But that was the compromise. She wanted to see him now, and that could be disastrous.”
“Indeed,” Ayez said as he stood. “Well, I am going down to the workshop to speak with Myalyssa. Sirran, I’m sure you have arrangements to make, and I can tell our guests want to leave as soon as possible.”
Groilen pushed out from the couches to make room for Ayez to get by. “I’ll go down to the docks and see about the next available passage to Lucnere.” Sirran was gone when Be’naj looked around, likely slinking back to wherever he’d initially emerged from. At least she wasn’t itching anymore.
Ezmina, Saffron, and Be’naj stood as well, though Rhazine appeared too comfortable to move. The Ellafous Shaper cleared out first and headed back toward the stairs. “I’ll see if I can find anything even a little helpful about the Touchstones.”
“Or the Plane of Shadow,” Saffron called after her. Then she whispered to Be’naj, “Can you stay with Rhazine for a moment? I need to have a quick word alone with Groilen.”
“Of course,” Be’naj replied, though she wondered why she couldn’t share in the conversation.
Saffron smiled. “Thanks. I won’t be long.” She hurried out the front door to catch Groilen before he got too far from the house.
Be’naj decided not to refasten her sword around her waist just yet, returning to take a seat as close as possible to one of the open windows. Perhaps she might catch a few notes of Saffron’s conversation on the breeze …
The Hall of Doors Page 26
