Several of the lich's human servants had come into the chamber not long after the Red Wizards and Tazi had abandoned it. They had tried vainly to salvage what they could from the room and douse the many fires that still blazed. The lich's zombie servants had pointedly stayed away, as he suspected they would, because of their inherent fear of those very flames. He briefly wondered how Thazienne was going to manage to get his troops to fight with the burning earth all around them, but dismissed those queries as her concerns to deal with. The lich had other matters that occupied his attention.
The room was in shambles. Two women batted at the tapestries that still smoldered with heavy blankets that they had scrounged up from one of the many linen closets. Another was mindlessly collecting up the bits of shattered dinnerware and glasses, simply needing to do something. An elderly man slapped several parchments with a broom. Some of the papers curled up at the edges and wafted around like injured butterflies, and he alternated between swatting them and trying to catch them. He had already collected a small pile and stacked it against the wall nearest him. That was where Szass Tarn went first.
"Nevron, go around to the far side of the table where Naglatha had been standing before this disaster took place," he ordered the other zulkir. "I'll start in on these."
As the lich approached the old man, he could see the fear in his faded eyes. Szass Tarn ruled with a fierce hand and had little tolerance for failure. Many of his slaves bore subtle and not-so-subtle reminders of their master's standards. And it was clear that the old man assumed the catastrophe did not bode well for any of those who served the necromancer. Szass Tarn appreciated his quivering, obsequious behavior but had no time for it at the moment.
"You did well. Please continue," he murmured to the slave and floated past him to the remains of his stolen scrolls. He snatched up the fragments and didn't even notice that the man wept tears of relief as he passed.
With the pieces of his spell scrolls in his skeletal grip, the lich searched for a place to try and piece together the fractured puzzle. He saw that a smaller serving table was relatively unscathed though overturned.
"Right that for me," he told the two women who had extinguished the last of the flaming furnishings.
They scurried over, coughing heavily, and flipped the table upright.
"You may go," he dismissed them without an upward glance. He began to lay all the vestiges of parchment on the smooth surface of the table. Scanning the remnants quickly with his sharp eyes and tracing a bony finger across them, Szass Tam tried to cobble together a binding spell.
Barely looking up, he called over to Nevron, "What luck have you had?" The gray-haired zulkir was on his knees, tearing away at a portion of the smashed council table. He tossed bits of the wood madly behind him, and Szass Tam was hard pressed not to laugh in spite of the circumstances. The Zulkir of Conjuration looked for all the world like a dog frantically digging up a bone.
"I think there's a scroll, or at least a good portion of one, under the table leg-if I can just reach…" his voice faded with the strain.
"Got it," he croaked triumphantly, and when he popped back out from under the wreckage, his hair was askew and a smudge of soot crossed his forehead. But Szass Tam saw that he had a mostly intact parchment in his fist.
"Bring it here," the lich ordered. "Let's see what we have left."
Nevron walked over quickly, though he too continued to cough from the lingering smoke. Out of the whole room, only Szass Tam was unaffected by it, since he did not need to breathe. The zulkir placed the mostly intact scroll with the other pieces Szass Tam had collected on the table. Together, they read over the documents as best they could. An occasional quake rocked the chamber, but the two men were silent for some time. Finally, Nevron breathed in sharply and turned his head toward the lich with a look of horror and awe.
"I can't believe you found this," he said quietly and pointed to one of the burned fragments. "How?" he croaked.
"That is not for you to know," the necromancer replied.
"My whole life has been in pursuit of these runes," he said mostly to himself. "And now, to find them here, broken and incomplete…"
"Perhaps you can now understand why one lifetime is not nearly enough," Szass Tam told him evenly.
"No matter for now," Nevron dismissed the discussion. "Without the other pieces, I don't see how we can bind Eltab. We might be able to stop the lesser minions, but the tanar'ri lord may be beyond our reach."
Szass Tam was silent for what seemed like an eternity. He scanned the puzzle pieces again as though he might have missed the keystone, but it was not there to be found. He balled up his bony hands and pounded the table with a cry of fury. Then he smoothed his robes with those same hands and regarded the other man solemnly.
"I fear you may be right," he admitted calmly, "but we must try, nonetheless."
And he and the Zulkir of Conjuration began to chant.
Tazi flew toward another flock of Eltab's darken-beasts, carving through them with her sword as she had the others. The griffon swooped into the herd like a hunting raptor and sliced at the flapping bat creatures with its razor-sharp talons. Tazi gripped her mount with her thighs to maintain her seat on its back and hung onto its mane with her left hand. She twisted around to spear a darkenbeast that tried to find purchase on the griffon's haunches. She dispatched the creature though it left a track of bloody welts along the griffon's rear left flank. It screeched in pain.
When Tazi turned forward, she ducked low and hugged the griffon's neck as another darkenbeast swooped toward her face, missing her by mere inches. More started to surround the griffon, smelling the blood, and it reared back, flapping its wings furiously as the smaller darkenbeasts cut off all escape routes. One after another dived at Tazi and her mount, and she swiveled from her right to her left to slash at the monsters. But their numbers kept increasing. As they slashed down one, another two took its place. The griffon cawed in panic as several of the flying creatures began to target its vulnerable wings.
Like a black, rotting infestation, one after another of the darkenbeasts attached themselves to the griffon's wings. Using their sharp claws, the demon-king's minions ripped the winged beast's limbs to shreds. Golden feathers coated in blood swirled about, and Tazi could hear the animal's suffering, but she was helpless to alleviate it. The sheer numbers of the dark-enbeasts weighed the griffon down and Tazi could see they were losing altitude.
A creature slipped past Tazi's defenses and punctured the griffon's right eye with its talon. Blood squirted out, and Tazi's mount plummeted beak first toward the ground, spiraling in tighter and tighter circles. The creatures that were clamped to its wings held fast, and as the ground came screaming up toward them, Tazi leaped from the griffon's back at the last possible moment.
She fell hard, taking the brunt of the fall on her shoulder as she tucked up into a ball and rolled forward to land in a crouch, weapon still held high. The griffon was not so fortunate, smashing headlong onto the hard soil. As it lay in a heap near a rock pile, Tazi could see it was done for. Its beak was partially broken and blood gushed out of the wound. The ruined eye dangled from its bloody socket to stare blindly ahead. Its wings were practically denuded of feathers, and multiple talon rakes crisscrossed its haunches.
Despite these wounds, the griffon was still alive, and a few darkenbeasts continued to peck and tear at its flesh.
"Off of him, hellspawn," Tazi shrieked.
She grabbed one of the creatures by the nape of its neck and cleanly ran it through. Some of the other darkenbeasts then shifted their attention from the dying griffon to Tazi. One hovered above her head, clawing at her face and tearing out handfuls of her black locks, while she stabbed another through its heart.
Dropping her sword, Tazi reached up and caught the one that was tangled in her hair, her chainmail gauntlets protecting her hands somewhat from the darkenbeast's talons. She flung the screeching monster to the ground and crushed its throat under her boot. With mo
st of the beasts gone for the moment or dead, Tazi picked up her weapon and strode over to the griffon.
She reached out a hesitant hand and stroked the beast's bloody neck. It opened its one good eye and looked at her imploringly.
Tazi raised her sword and said, "I'm sorry for this." But before she could end the griffon's misery, a great war axe slashed down and practically beheaded the winged creature in one stroke. Tazi whirled to see Justikar breathing hard and leaning on his bloody axe with both hands like it was a walking stick.
"Now we're even," he spat at the dead beast.
"Justikar!" Tazi shouted, though she wasn't sure if it was anger or relief at seeing him that made her cry out so.
"It had to be done," he replied.
"But you didn't have to enjoy it."
"Yes, I did."
Tazi sighed and rested against the dead griffon, trying to catch her breath. She wiped at her forehead, thinking that it was sweat that dripped down her face and neck, but her hand came away wet with her own blood. She blinked at her gory fingers.
"Trying to look like me?" Justikar asked her with a smirk, and when she glanced at him blankly, he pointed at his bald pate.
"Darkenbeasts," she answered simply, and the dwarf gave her a curt nod. "Where are yours?" she asked.
"Gone," he replied.
"They're all gone?' she said in amazement.
"They've been slaughtered," he nodded bitterly, "but not before they took out most of Eltab's flock. There's the odd clutch scattered around, though. I can still 'hear' them. And they still listen."
Without another word, Tazi turned away from the duergar and clambered up the large rock pile that was just behind the griffon's body to get a better view. In the red blaze of the fires and the lava that continued its inevitable course down the mountains, she could see mayhem and destruction everywhere. Along the western ridge, bodies were stacked like cord wood. Tazi could make out some of the colors of Szass Tarn's troops, now truly dead. Strewn in between, she saw the occasional lizard claw or bloated lamia tail poking through the carnage. On the eastern slopes, Tazi watched as her ores slashed viciously at the albino lizards. The reptile men had acquired weapons from the fallen zombie legions and were quite proficient at using them. But Tazi's heart sank when she saw that demons still emptied out of the central peak.
She turned back toward the Citadel and closed her eyes. She summoned the last of the undead soldiers Szass Tarn had left at her disposal. They marched out and began to assume the positions of their fallen brethren. Wearily, she opened her eyes again.
"They keep coming," she told the dwarf. "Szass Tarn must have failed in his bid to stop them."
"You think he stuck it out?" the duergar asked. "I'm sure he and those other sour-faced wizards fled as soon as we stepped out onto the battlefield."
"No," Tazi disagreed with him. "Somehow, and I can't tell you why, I think he stayed. For his own, warped reasons he cares about this land more than we do."
"Than I do," he corrected her.
"It doesn't matter now, if we can't stop them," she said. She looked to the peak that erupted again and realized that it was the only one still active. It was also where the demons continued to emerge from.
"All that's left is to stop that demon," Tazi added, "and I think I know where I can find him. Justikar, you have to lead the rest of the forces in my place."
"It makes no difference," he argued. "As many as we throw at them, they match."
"No," she shook her head, "forget that. What you have to do is fortify the barricade now. It's the only chance the people of Thay have. Stack up the dead if you have to, but make a wall to stop the lava flow. I don't care if you have to kill every last one of them to do it. Understand?" she shouted at him.
Justikar smiled broadly at her. "Now you're finally speaking a language I can understand."
Tazi shot him a grin in return and broke into a run toward the central peak. She didn't look back at the dwarf. She had to trust him now; there wasn't a choice any longer. And still Szass Tarn's words about choices and consequences rang in her head.
With the last eruption, a series of lava bombs were released. One came whistling down like a meteor in the night sky and nearly hit Tazi. When it struck the ground, the explosion blew her off her feet. She landed hard and was dazed for a minute. As she lay on her back staring at the red-gray night sky heavy with smoke, an albino lizard came upon her, spear in hand.
It thrust its weapon at her, and Tazi rolled to one side, narrowly missing being skewered by the monster. Its spear stuck in the ground, and she rolled back over it, using her body to snap the pole out of the lizard's claw and knock the shaft to the ground. As she rolled underneath the unarmed lizard, she stabbed up with her sword and killed it. Tazi got to her feet and took up the spearhead in her other hand.
She jumped over bodies and ran in a crisscross pattern, dodging flaming missiles and debris. Tazi sprinted as though she wore blinders like a horse. She refused to see or stop for any of the slaughter around her. Ores raged beside her, overwhelmed in their own berserker fury, smashing the lizards and demons with incredible strength. Tazi was lost to her own red haze. She sliced anything that crossed her path and was as unstoppable as the lava flow, slowly working her way up the steep incline of the central slope along the only narrow path that was not presently engulfed in lava. At times, she had to sheathe her sword and use her free hand and the spear to hoist herself up through the rocks and boulders, walking a fine tightrope. She was covered in sweat from the intense heat as she finally neared the core of the volcanic peaks.
Close to the top, she spotted a lamia that had completely encircled a fallen zombie, locked together in a twisted, lovers' embrace. She ignored them and tried to get past. The lamia, however, struck out with its tail and slashed Tazi's right leg, while it continued to constrict the corpse of the soldier. The venomous stinger cut through her leathers, and Tazi hissed in pain. She grabbed the spear with both her hands and drove it into the monster with a grunt of rage. The weapon not only impaled the lamia, but the zombie as well and pinned them both to the ground. The two squirmed there, caught like a strange multi-limbed bug on a dissecting table. She climbed on.
Tazi had to scale the last twenty feet of the nearly vertical face of the volcano. She struggled for handholds and could already feel her leg growing numb from the lamia's sting. She fleetingly thought of her climbing boots, abandoned somewhere back in Pyra-dos a thousand years ago. She wiped at her eyes to clear the sweat from them and rested her head against her outstretched arms for a brief pause. When she turned her head back, she could see the forces of Szass Tarn lined up across the field of battle like a hasty dyke before the floodwaters. She continued up the last few feet thinking that she might be Thay's last chance.
She pulled herself over the rim of the volcano and slid into it a few feet on her stomach, scratching her arms and face. Tazi scrambled to her feet as best she could with her game leg and looked directly into the face of hell. The volcano was framed by heavy clouds of smoke, glowing a dirty red from the fires. The heat was almost too much to bear and near the center of the fiery furnace, Eltab stood with his arms raised, great wings spread wide. In the heart of the tempest, he was speaking a strange language. To Tazi, it seemed older than time itself. But, judging from the way that the center of the volcano bubbled and boiled in time with his chants, Tazi believed he was trying to conjure up even more lava.
"Stop!" she shouted down to the tanar'ri lord, her voice almost lost in the maelstrom. But the demon-king heard her, and he slowly turned around.
His skin glistened like fresh blood, and his eyes were twin suns, blazing brightly. Tazi thought he had even grown taller, if such a thing was possible. His horns were longer and more gnarled, twisted high above his head. His huge wings flexed and twitched in excitement. Eltab gnashed his jaws and saliva hung like icicles from his huge canines.
"Ah," he rumbled at Tazi, "it is my savior."
"What?" Tazi demanded.
"I owe all of this," and he spread his arms even wider, "to you. I saw through that weakling's eyes that you were the one who brought the spells to the dark-haired woman. You gave her the key to my prison, and I am eternally grateful."
Tazi swayed as her leg started to fail her. She drew her sword and held it low at her side. "I'm here to put an end to this," she said gravely.
The demon looked at her through slitted eyes. "I should strike you dead," he told her, "but I see something in you, something familiar." He slowly strode up the slope of the volcano and stopped ten feet from where she stood. Since Tazi was closer to the rim of the crater, she was evenly sized with the tanar'ri lord. He passed his hand in the direction of her leg, and suddenly Tazi felt strength pour back into the limb.
"That is a small measure of my gratitude, woman. There is so much more than that in store for you if you want it," he promised her with the voice of a serpent.
"I don't want your gifts," she spat back at him.
"Are you so sure?" he asked her slyly. "I see you proudly bear the gifts from others such as myself." He gestured to Tarn's mark, and the crystal of Shar's she still wore about her neck. Steorf was right about the chain's strength, she thought absently.
"All I want is your head," she said in a low voice.
"Try and take it then."
Tazi charged at the beast as he waved his hand at her again. This time, however, there was no healing gift. Showers of fire streaked from his fingertips. Tazi realized there was no cover for her to use, and she raised her sword instinctively as a shield. To both their surprise, the eldritch weapon Tazi had stolen from Szass Tarn's armory absorbed most of the demon fire, though a spray of it skipped past the blade. She hissed in pain as her shoulder was scalded directly where the necromancer had left his sign, but she hardly felt it as she watched her sword glowing with Eltab's absorbed bolts. The glow diminished, and the blade was intact. She charged him again.
Eltab backed up, and he and Tazi began to circle around the rim of the volcano. Tazi was very aware that she could not move too close to the bubbling core for longer than a few moments because of the excruciating heat. The tanar'ri lord closed his eyes and flung out his right arm. He roared in pain as an extension of his bones burst through the webbing between his claws and grew to a length of four feet. He fashioned a sword of sorts from his own body, bits of marrow and tendon dangling from it, slick with his blood. Suitably armed, he advanced on Tazi.
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