by Paul S. Kemp
What was that? Riven projected.
Azriim shook his head. He was not certain what it was.
He stared at the wall of flesh, astounded despite himself at the size of the creature that must be buried beneath the ruins. It was so large that its size had become a disguise. It was like looking at a speck of soil and trying to infer a farm.
Azriim understood now the source of the tremors. He also realized what had eaten the whales. Probably the scrags brought the creature food, perhaps as an offering. Azriim was pleased that the source crystal did not share whatever chamber afforded access to the creature’s mouth.
What are you waiting for? Dolgan asked.
Azriim swam forward. The aura of magical energy emitted by the source crystal grew more intense as he neared it. So too did the pressure in his brain. He blocked it out as best he could. Azriim felt as if he were swimming against a current. His eyes ached; his vision grew cloudy. One stroke, another.
A second ripple ran through the flesh of the beast and somewhere, deep within a hidden part of the ruins, the rest of the creature’s body began to stir. The entire pile of rock shook. Debris and chunks of stone rained from the ceiling. Azriim feared the entire mountain would collapse atop him. He, Riven, and Dolgan darted out of the way of several blocks of falling stone and covered their heads.
The tremor passed. The chamber remained intact.
Do what you came to do, Riven said.
Have your teleportation rods in hand, Azriim answered. The moment I plant the seed, we return to….
He remembered that the Sojourner had told him not to return to the pocket plane. The slaadi’s father was to provide them with a new location for their return. Unfortunately, Azriim had been unable to contact his father.
… Selgaunt. We return to Selgaunt’s wharves. We will contact the Sojourner there.
Azriim withdrew his own teleportation rod and turned the dials until he had only a single half-turn remaining to activate it.
Ready to retreat, he eyed the crystal, thought of what it would mean when he planted the seed: full transformation to gray, freedom from the Sojourner. The fact that the mantle was sentient, or that tapping it might kill the huge creature, bothered Azriim not at all.
Here we go, he said, and reached out his hand toward the crystal.
He touched the silvery seed to an exposed facet and the source crystal exploded in blinding red light. Beams of crimson fired in all directions. In an instant, the current of magical energy became a maelstrom and Azriim had to kick frantically to hold his position. He watched through squinted, aching eyes as the Weave Tap seed merged with the crystal, spread its black veins throughout the facets, entwined around and strangled the veins of the creature that had melded with the crystal.
The creature gave a lurch that shook the entirety of the ruins. The sudden movement tore the beast’s flesh where it had grown over and into the crystal. Red blood poured from the wound and clouded the water, mixed with the maddening red light. The mountain of ruins quaked, shook, began to collapse.
The creature was waking.
Azriim turned the dial on his teleportation rod, felt the familiar quiver in his stomach, and was gone from that place in an instant.
The Source’s consciousness moved groggily toward wakefulness and as it did, the power of its nearly conscious dreams sent mental energy pouring up from the sea bottom. The energy soaked Magadon, filled him, saturated him. He opened his mind and drank it in. He felt the Source’s power weaken as the Weave Tap seed took hold, but even then its consciousness was more powerful than any Magadon had ever encountered.
Ages of history and knowledge passed through his memory in little more than a flash. He understood the nature of the Source. It was a sentient Netherese mythallar, unique in Faerûn’s history. Its mental and magical energy could be diffused over an entire city—enough to keep a metropolis afloat, or render nonmagical items mildly magical. Or, unlike an ordinary mythallar, its power could be concentrated in a single item or person. Its sentience allowed it to answer the wants of its creator. But in its dreaming state, it did not recognize its creator, and sent its energy forth for any to use.
Magadon seized all the energy he could, and as he absorbed more, he became able to contain and control still more power, and more. He felt as though his mind had expanded to the size of the multiverse. He shouted, not with pain, but with the ecstasy of revelation. The power in his voice shredded Demon Binder’s sails. Around him, the ship’s crew fell to the deck screaming, bleeding from their ears.
“What are you doing, man?” Evrel shouted.
Magadon did not respond. Instead, he drank in more power, and more.
Cale and Jak reached the cave, turned, and went shoulder to shoulder. The trolls were right behind them. Cale still had a few shadow images flitting about him, but they would be of little use in such close quarters. The pocket was little more than a cul-de-sac, with shards of stone and pillars jutting from the walls. The trolls would be able to attack them only through the cave mouth, and only two or three at a time. The glow from the magical effect on Cale cast the cave in green.
Cale held Weaveshear before him. Shadows poured from the blade. Jak brandished his dagger and shortsword.
The trolls appeared in moments. Two charged the opening, claws extended, fanged mouths wide. Cale and Jak, their movement magically free of water resistance, easily dodged under the scrags’ claws and answered with shouts and steel. Cale severed an arm from one of the trolls and Jak drove both of his blades into the chest of the other. The creatures snapped and thrashed, destroying two of Cale’s images and opening a gash in Jak’s chest. Their bulk pushed Cale and Jak backward. The small cave became filled with bubbles, floating sediment, a cloud of troll and human blood. Cale stabbed blindly with Weaveshear, felt it bite into troll flesh. Beside him, Jak shouted, stabbed with his dagger.
Unexpectedly the trolls darted backward out of the cave and swam away, trailing streams of blood. Their wounds closed as they swam away and Cale understood their strategy. Able to regenerate underwater, the scrags would continually attack and withdraw, until Cale and Jak were too tired or too wounded to defend themselves.
Regenerating, Jak said. Dark and empty! We’ve boxed ourselves in.
Cale nodded, thinking fast. He came up with little.
We’ll have to charge them, he said to Jak. Cut our way through and make a dash for the surface.
Jak looked at him and nodded, but Cale could see in his face that the little man understood how unlikely they were to make it. The trolls were faster swimmers and stronger combatants, albeit less skilled.
Still, both of them understood that they had no choice. If they stayed in the cave, the trolls would eventually kill them.
The scrags—Cale counted fourteen of the hulking creatures—swarmed the waters about ten paces from the cave mouth. They looked to be squabbling over which of them would attack next. Bestial eyes glared at Cale and Jak. Fangs jutted from cavernous mouths.
Without warning, the red glow from the base of the mountain flared, turning the sea to blood. Cale and Jak shared a look, unsure of what to make of it. The trolls, too, gave a start and went wide-eyed. They gestured toward the base of the ruins and grunted frantically to each other in their bubbly, guttural tongue. Two of them started downward and swam out of sight.
Cale was just about to call for a dash when a tremor, more powerful than the last, wracked the entire mountain of ruins. The ceiling of the cave shifted, and two huge chunks of stone fell. A block clipped Jak’s shoulder and the little man screamed a stream of bubbles. A large slab struck Cale squarely in the back and drove him face-first to the cave floor. The shadows surrounding him saved his ribs from breaking, and his shadow-enhanced strength allowed him to shake the slab loose. He rose to all fours.
The shaking intensified.
What in the Hells is that? Jak asked, eyes wide.
Cale had no idea, but he did know that they had to get out of the cave. He found hi
s feet.
Outside the cave, the scrags’ wide eyes showed fear and surprise. Their attention was turned from Jak and Cale toward the base of the ruins. They were as vulnerable as they could be.
The trolls, Jak! Cale said. Right now!
Side by side, Jak and Cale darted out of the cave and charged the dozen remaining trolls.
Cale stabbed one through the chest, jerked his blade free, and unleashed a cross cut that severed the troll’s head. Black blood poured from the stump and the body began to sink. Jak plunged his blades into the throat and ribs of another troll. It roared, arched its back, tried to swim clear of Jak.
The attack disconcerted the already fearful trolls. As one, they growled and fled in the direction of their caves. Cale and Jak floated in the cloud of troll blood, stunned. Cale could not believe their luck.
The Lady is smiling on us, Cale, Jak said. Let’s get the Hells out of—
Below them, above them, around them, the entire mountain of rubble shook, lurched as if the earth were trying to dislodge from the ruins. Rock and finished stone rained down from the heights. A cloud of dirt went up from the base of the mountain, dimming the red light, obscuring the bottom, mixing with the troll blood. Cale watched the headless corpse of the troll he had killed spiral into the depths.
Stones crashed against each other, splintered, grated on each other with a deafening roar. The entire mountain seemed ready to be uprooted.
The underwater landslide continued for several moments, then silence.
Cale had seen enough. He would find the slaadi on the surface. He grabbed Jak’s shirt and pulled him upward.
By the gods, Jak said, and Cale heard awe in his voice.
Cale turned, followed Jak’s gaze downward. What he saw froze him. His numb hand fell from Jak’s shirt. No wonder the scrags had fled.
A virtual mountain of flesh was squirming itself loose from the rubble. Cale had never seen a creature so large. He recalled the size of the shadow dragon they had encountered on the Plane of Shadow. This creature was easily several times that size.
Kraken, Jak said, and the word turned Cale’s body cold.
The ruins that made up the base of the mountain had been blown outward by a lurch of the creature’s immense body, exposing its form. Eight tentacles, each as big around as a tree trunk, sprouted from the bottom of a cylindrical body topped with a sleek, arrow-shaped head. The body alone stretched the distance of several bowshots, and the two longest of its eight tentacles—the outer two—could have reached halfway across Selgaunt.
The source of the red glow, too, was exposed—a huge shard of glowing red crystal, partially embedded in the sea floor and partially embedded in the top of the kraken’s head. The open gash in which the crystal rested reminded Cale of a dragon’s maw. The crystal itself called to mind the orange crystal that had been the source of Skullport’s mantle.
Cale knew that the slaadi had come to tap this crystal the same way the other had been tapped. He knew, too, that they must have succeeded, and in so doing, had awakened a monster.
Tentacles squirmed amidst the ruins, casually brushed aside blocks of stone that a team of oxen could not have moved. The kraken emitted a high-pitched shriek so loud, so full of rage that it made Cale wince.
The creature levered itself against the sea floor with its inner tentacles and gave a powerful lurch, either to detach its head from the crystal or to detach the crystal from the sea floor.
We have to go, Jak said, and pulled at Cale’s shirt. Cale nodded and started to swim surfaceward. But he could not take his eyes from the kraken.
The flesh of the creature’s head gave way before the rock of the sea floor. Skin tore partially away from the crystal. Blood poured from the gash. The kraken emitted another shriek and contorted itself to reach around its head with its two outer tentacles. They twined themselves around the crystal. The creature was going to pull it from the sea bed.
And after that, it would be free to move.
The image of the kraken swimming free in the same sea as Cale and Jak brought Cale back to himself.
Move, Jak, he said, tearing his eyes from the kraken. Now. Move!
They turned their feet to the ruins and swam. They threw water behind them as fast as they could.
Too slow, Cale’s mind kept repeating. Too slow.
Another screech from the kraken filled the sea. The ruins rumbled as the movement of the creature’s body shook the pile. A sharp crack sounded and the kraken uttered another shriek, this one in exultation. Cale knew what it signified—it had torn the crystal free of the sea bed.
Faster, Cale! Jak said, his voice filled with panic.
But both of them knew they already were swimming as fast as they could.
Magadon, Cale projected to the surface, but received no response. Mags! If you can hear me, get the ship out of here. Right now. Something is coming, something … big.
The Source is awakening, Erevis, replied Magadon, and his mental voice boomed inside of Cale’s head. I understand its language now, its purpose, its powers. I can use it—
Mags, forget all of that, Cale said. Just get the ship out of there. Right now. Make for Selgaunt. We’ll meet you.
Cale said that last though he did not expect to survive. Bubbles streamed from his mouth; shadows leaked from his skin. He kicked, threw his arms out and down. Already his limbs felt like lead. His muscles were burning. How long had they been swimming upward? Where in the Hells was the surface?
He glanced downward just as the kraken squirmed its body entirely free from the ruins. The pile started to collapse, the roar of falling stone loud enough to hurt Cale’s ears. Sakkors was lost in a cloud of silt.
The kraken, with one powerful undulation of its enormous body and tentacles, wiggled free of the destruction. It swam backwards, leading with its head, and the glowing red crystal stuck out of the gash in its head like a unicorn’s horn. The two outer tentacles ended in diamond-shaped pads covered in suckers the size of kite shields. The creature swam an arc around the ruins, as if testing out a body long atrophied through lack of use. It angled upward and its eyes—as large as wagons—seemed to fix on Cale and Jak.
Keep going! screamed Jak.
They swam with an energy born of terror.
Another shriek of rage filled the deep. Cale looked down to see the kraken undulate its body and swim after them. Its huge form cut through the water as cleanly as a razor. It matched a bowshot with each undulation. Its eyes never left them.
Cale looked up and saw nothing to indicate that they were nearing the surface. No light, no anything. Terror birthed panic.
The kraken was closing, eating up the distance. Cale could feel it.
They were dead, he knew it.
Still, he kept kicking. It was not in him to surrender. He kicked, swung his arms, swam for all he was worth. His heart must surely burst.
He looked back and saw nothing but the kraken’s eyes, the pupils as big across as he was tall.
They breached the surface. Air. Starlight.
Gasping, spent, Cale did not allow his astonishment to cloud his thinking.
“Dispel it, Jak!” he shouted. “Hurry!”
Jak pulled his holy symbol and began to cast. Both of them knew that if Jak’s spell failed to overcome the magic of the slaad’s wand, they would die right there.
As Jak mouthed the words to his spell between gasps, Cale tried to look out over the water, to spot Demon Binder. He did not see it. He hoped Magadon and Evrel had gotten the ship clear of the area.
Selgaunt, Mags, he projected again, and received no response.
He did not bother to look down. He knew what was underneath them. He knew too what would happen if it reached them. The water was blood red and growing brighter. The kraken, with its horn of glowing crystal, was closing. Cale could feel it coming within his bones, the same way he could feel a storm on the winds.
He drew the darkness around himself and Jak. If Jak’s spell succeeded, he would tak
e them into the shadows instantly. If Jak’s spell did not succeed, then he would die cloaked in the darkness that had become his constant companion.
Jak shouted the last word to his spell and pointed his holy symbol at Cale.
The green glow that tethered Cale to the Material Plane winked out.
Cale felt the waters rising under them. The kraken was right below them. A scream from the creature rose up from the water and burst into the night air.
Cale hoped never again to hear such a sound.
The shadows around them deepened, swallowed them, and took them away.
Magadon felt it when Jak and Erevis traveled the darkness and vanished. If only Demon Binder could have done the same. There was no wind. The ship had no way to go anywhere.
And the creature that long had held the Source’s mind captive was surfacing. Magadon sensed its anger. He saw it in his mind’s eye—a body as large as a town, tentacles lined with suckers like shields, a savage, curved beak that could rend a ship in two with a single bite.
Kraken.
And it was bringing the Source with it. Magadon’s expanded consciousness sensed that the Source jutted like a narwhal’s horn from an open wound in the kraken’s head. The Source was awakened and surfacing.
Magadon was terrified at the implications.
A crewman called out from the starboard side of Demon Binder and the rest of the crew pelted past Magadon and across the ship to look over the side. Magadon knew what they saw: The glow of the Source had turned the sea blood red between Demon Binder and the slaadi’s ship. Magadon heard the alarmed voices of the crew, sensed their growing fear.
The Source, nearly awake now, was still feeding him. He drank all he could, despite the harm it did to his body. He had never felt anything like it. Knowledge poured into him. His head pounded and he felt blood leaking from his ears, his nose. He hoped the warm fluid running out of his eyes was clear and not red. He groaned with the pain, exulted in the power.
Selgaunt, Mags, Cale had projected.
The crew began to point, shout. The glow was growing brighter. The water off the starboard side roiled. Foam sprayed into the air as tentacles as thick around as kegs burst from the sea. The kraken’s glistening body followed, displacing so much water that it sent waves into Demon Binder strong enough to cause it to list. The kraken’s huge eyes, half-exposed above the waterline, looked first on Demon Binder, then on the slaadi’s ship.
