They crossed swords, and Tazi knew immediately that she was outmatched in size and strength. When she blocked one of his thrusts, she felt the vibration of the force through her entire arm and shoulder. She realized that if she was going to stop him, she was going to have to find a way to outwit him. Tazi knew her life was forfeit regardless. With a cry of anger, she lunged forward and stabbed at him at every turn. The demon-king matched her stroke for stroke.
Keeping one eye on the bubbling core to her right, Tazi thought it was churning even more, and she realized she hadn't felt a tremor for several minutes.
It's building up, she thought to herself. The demon sliced her across the forearm, and the wound burned as if it had been doused in acid. As Eltab started to press the advantage, Tazi vaguely wondered why he only relied on his physical strength and didn't use more of his sorcerous powers against her. She didn't think Tarn's sword could protect her from much more of it. And as she backpedaled toward the core, Tazi started to wonder if she had been mistaken from the start. Had Eltab been strengthening the forces within the volcano, or had he been feeding off of them instead?
She dodged a gurgle of lava at her feet and managed to get behind the tanar'ri lord, away from the core.
"Do you wish to fight," he mocked her, "or do you prefer to dance?"
"I prefer for you to die," she replied, realizing how foolish she sounded.
As she engaged him again, Tazi saw that on the opposite side of the crater, several of the Blooded Ones were scrambling up. Eltab had not yet seen them. Tazi was caught unaware, though, and as a bit of the superheated rock crumbled under her, she tumbled down. Eltab leaned over, and for a bizarre moment Tazi was sure he was going to help her to her feet. Instead, he scooped up a §mall handful of lava and threw the molten stuff at her. She vainly tried to raise her sword against the assault with little success. The weapon stopped some of it, but most of the deadly slag caught Tazi along her right side and leg.
"What I give," the tanar'ri lord told her as he pointed to her now re-injured limb, "I take away."
Tazi lay still. In spite of everything, she held her sword more out of instinct than conscious thought. The lava flowed down the blade and though it emanated its eerie light, the sword could not absorb the heat a second time. The metal burned down as well, and Tazi dropped the blade before it could scald her. As the flaming sword fell to the ground, the initial, numbing shock Tazi suffered wore off. She howled in agonizing pain and writhed along the crater rim. Eltab raised his bone-sword for the killing stroke.
From across the crater, the Blooded Ones responded to their leader's anguish in kind. The handful that had reached the rim screamed back in a berserker rage. The demon-king turned in surprise at the new intruders. The ores, though caught up in a frenzy, didn't attempt to run the gauntlet through the lava. They kicked and smashed at the boulders and loose rock along the volcano's edge and threw their haphazard missiles and spears at the demon-king.
While he blocked the assault, Tazi realized she had lost. Tears of rage and pain streaked her filthy face. The right side of her body was all but useless, and she could smell her burnt flesh over the sulfurous belching of the mountaintop. She watched helplessly as the tanar'ri lord raised his hands in the air, and a wave of lava rose up to shield him from the ores' strike.
Tazi decided she wanted to die on her feet. She pushed against the ground with her left hand and struggled to rise. A glint in her right boot caught her eye.
Still nestled safely in her secret sheath, the crimson gold dagger winked in the firelight. It was all she had eft, and Tazi bitterly realized that she and the bewitching treasure had somehow unleashed the chain of events that wrought the havoc all around her.
As Eltab turned to face her a final time, framed by the wall of fire behind him, Tazi reacted. She grabbed the perfectly crafted dagger and threw it underhand to strike the demon-king.
"This can go to hell," she croaked, "and so can you." With uncanny accuracy, the crimson gold caught Eltab straight through the heart. He looked down at the sorcerous metal shaft that protruded from his chest in shock and disbelief.
"I missed once," Tazi rasped in explanation, "and let a great evil escape. I don't miss anymore."
He dropped his bone-sword and wailed, all the while clawing ineffectually at the dagger. The demon-king literally began to peel into two beings. His whole body was engulfed in a cool, blue flame that started on one side of his body and raced to outline his whole form. Eltab's head snapped back, and he balled his claws into useless fists, unable to dislodge the dagger.
His howls pierced the night, but his hellish rage did not stop the smaller, human form that tumbled from the tanar'ri lord's glowing one. Tazi watched, awestruck, as a red-haired human fell forward, the crimson dagger still embedded in his chest. And the tanar'ri lord, no longer anchored to his human host, toppled backward into the bubbling heart of the volcano, his screams cut off as soon as he hit the molten bath.
Tazi blinked hard and lost her balance. She fell toward the lava, too weak from her wounds to be able to stop herself. As her knees buckled, Tazi felt herself jerked back by a strong arm around her waist. She twisted her head. Justikar's stern face peered back into hers-an almost worried expression in his eyes.
"That makes two," he shouted at her. "Now we're even!"
Tazi couldn't speak. She glanced back at the heart of the volcano, half-expecting to see the tanar'ri lord rise up from the lava, but the world exploded around them. A giant quake shook the peak so violently that the far end of the crater rim crumbled in on itself. The duergar managed to find purchase within a nook along the rim and hung on to it and Tazi.
The remaining Blooded Ones, however, were not as lucky. They tumbled into the core, followed along by the rush of boulders and rocks from the volcano rim. The earthen debris sealed off the heart of the volcano and stopped the last of the lava flow.
Tazi felt the dwarf move stones and rubble off of her. He held her in his sinewy arms, and Tazi could see from where they were that the remaining demon spawn of Eltab's were retreating back into the depths of the Thaymount.
"With him gone," she whispered and didn't even realize she spoke aloud, "Szass Tarn's spells must be able to take hold."
The dwarf simply held her without saying a word. Tazi's head lolled to one side, and she could see somewhat down the mountainside. The lava had been stopped. But mired within the now-cooling flow were thousands upon thousands of bodies. Everywhere Tazi turned, all she saw was a sea of red. Finally, her wounds were toe much. As oblivion called for her, Tazi welcomed the cold darkness.
Epilogue
10th Kythorn 1373 DR
Tazi was lost in the shadows. There was no longer any pain. The severe burning of her flesh had eased and cold night was everywhere. She realized she had never known such peace before this moment, alone in the dark. The rage that had boiled inside her had also faded to only a whisper. And somewhere in the blackness, a voice sighed. She could almost understand the words.
"Tazi." She finally did hear her name and somehow managed to swim up from the icy depths to consciousness.
"Hmmm…" she sighed and stretched her body slowly, reveling in the feeling of comfort. Her eyelids fluttered open and, at first, she didn't know where she was. Tazi could make out that she was in a darkened room, lying in a large bed, covered by a heavy, satin coverlet.
Her head rested atop several down pillows. She was confused but not frightened. Her mind raced as she tried to remember what had happened. She placed a smooth, white hand against her forehead and rubbed her temples with her thumb and fingers.
Her face felt cool and uninjured. What happened to the burns? She raked her hands through her hair, and not only were there no longer any wounds on her scalp, her hair was thick again, and it was as long as it had been before her father died.
She threw the coverlet from the bed and saw that she wore a sleeveless nightgown of amethyst silk with a plunging neckline. But what was startling was that she
could very easily see, through the near-transparent material, that she was whole again. There were no longer any burns or wounds anywhere along the length of her body. Nor did she feel the fever in her mind that had raged there since she had immersed herself in the alchemical blood. It seemed her bond to the Blooded Ones had been severed by their death in the volcano. Tazi was stunned. A soft cough startled her, and she looked about the room for the source. A shadow separated itself from the wall and moved toward the bed.
"Justikar," Tazi said and didn't hide the pleasure in her voice. She could see he had cleaned up. The soot and grime from the past few days had been scrubbed away, and he no longer wore the foolish, jade-colored shirt that Naglatha had forced him to wear. He wore new trousers and a tunic made of home-spun cloth, both in shades of the earth.
They suited him, she thought. What hair he had was combed and he had re-plaited his beard. He also, Tazi noted, carried a bundle wrapped in a ruby-red velvet cloak.
"Don't get all worked up," he said, raising his free hand in warning. "I knew you'd get it wrong and think I had stayed here for the last few days in some sort of vigil by your bedside like a lovelorn suitor."
"Last few days?" Tazi asked and a frown crossed her delicate features. Her memories were fuzzy, frayed around the edges, and she was startled at her lost time.
"Well," the duergar added with the slightest hint of gentleness in his voice, "I expect you'd be a bit muddled after what you went through. When I carried you back to the Citadel after I was certain the crater was truly sealed off, I figured you were dead, as burned as you were."
Tazi nodded and remembered her final confrontation with the demon-king. Burned severely along her right side, more than half her flesh had been charred beyond healing. She had closed her eyes after she knew Eltab was gone and had been ready for death.
"I should be dead," she murmured.
The dwarf nodded. "And you probably would be if it hadn't been for the necromancer."
"What do you mean?" Tazi asked as she sat back against the pillows-though in her heart, she already knew the answer.
"Oh, don't worry," he told her gruffly, "you're not one of his undead. But I wouldn't be too sure he wouldn't have raised you for his own if you had died.
"When I approached the Citadel, he must have been watching from one of his perches. He swooped down right away, and I swear there was genuine sorrow on his face when he saw what a pitiful sight you were. He took you from my arms and brought you to a chamber lower down that had somehow survived the quakes intact."
"And?" she prodded him, but somewhere in the recess of her mind, Tazi saw images and flashes of herself on a cold slab as the skeletal lich worked and conjured over her. She felt, more than she saw, that the lich had cooled the rage that burned within her as well as her ravaged flesh. Tazi squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head a little, wondering what it had taken for a necromancer to heal a living being.
"You all right?" Justikar asked and reached out to her.
"Fine," she lied. "Go on."
"It took longer than he thought, because you were so far gone," the duergar explained. "And because the burns destroyed so much of your tissue, he said there wasn't much to work with. But I'll give that skeleton his due, because he didn't give up on you. I sure had," he added sincerely.
"That's why you brought me back instead of leaving me on the battlefield," she pointed out to the sour dwarf. He squirmed uncomfortably, and Tazi saved him from added embarrassment by immediately asking, "What's that tucked under your arm?"
"You're not the only one to receive a gift from the lich," he said simply. Justikar laid the swaddled bundle onto the bed with great care. He pulled back the material to reveal several ivory bones.
"My brother Adnama. Or, rather, what's left of him. After Tam was certain you were going to live, he had a slave bring the bundle to me. He said that it was a reward for my service to the Thayan people. Instead of raising him up as some dead thing to serve in his significantly smaller army, I could take his remains." The duergar became silent.
Tazi knew how much Justikar had wanted to find his brother and the hell he had put himself through for the quest. Now, to know he was truly dead had to be bittersweet. She gently laid her hand on the gray one that rested on the bones. Their eyes met briefly and something silent passed between them.
The dwarf then shrugged off her hand like it wasn't there, wrapped his precious cargo back up, and stored the package in a leather sack he had near the chair. She looked over and saw that he also had a walking stick and his stolen war axe stacked near the doorway.
"Now what will you do?" she asked him.
Justikar paused from his packing and looked at her for a moment before replying, "Follow in his footsteps, I suppose. I don't really have a choice now that he's gone. We're a dying race, and as I was so recently reminded," he paused with a wink to her, "there is definitely safety and power in numbers. I'll keep searching for our kind. They've got to be down there somewhere."
Tazi pulled up her knees and wrapped her unblemished arms around them. She watched as he made a final check of his gear and slung the pack and the war axe onto his strong back. He walked over to the door to collect his walking stick, and Tazi thought that he was simply going to walk out without another word. But he surprised her and turned to look at her a final time.
"Just so there is no misunderstanding between us," he told her, "should we meet up again, make no mistake. We are not friends. And if our paths do cross again," he warned her, "I can guarantee you that the circumstances will not be pleasant."
Tazi swung her legs off the bed. "And these were pleasant?" she quipped. She placed her feet on the ground and slowly rose, testing her legs experimentally. She realized she needn't have bothered because they were unscathed.
She padded across the thick carpeting to the drawn curtains on the far side of the room. Hesitantly, she grabbed the heavy drapes and wrapped her fingers in their velvet softness. She steeled herself and drew them back to let sunlight stream into the dark room.
In the bright morning light, Tazi had an unrestricted view of the slopes of the Thaymount. Steam still slowly rose from the lava flow that had obviously cooled considerably. It was no longer an angry red, but a dull charcoal gray, and it stretched as far as Tazi could see.
Embedded in the sea of molten slag were bits and pieces that initially looked for the entire world like driftwood and flotsam tossed about on the frozen waves. But Tazi knew what they were. Thousands and thousands of arms and legs and claws and wings. They were all that remained of both armies, now indistinguishable in the face of the awesome force of nature.
"I know they were fell creatures, the dark creations of twisted minds," she said, unable to tear her eyes from the terrible sight, "but it was a high price. They saved the people of Thay, but it cost so much." And she closed her eyes.
"Their numbers will be restored soon enough," Szass Tam replied in a deep, rich voice.
Startled, Tazi turned around and saw that the dwarf had slipped away. In his place, the necromancer stood. And he had restored himself to his previous form. Gone was the skeletally thin frame and wispy tufts of hair. Instead, he appeared to her as he had the first day they had met. His hair was thick and black again. His black eyes gleamed out from his full face. He was dressed in his thick robes of crimson and black, and he smiled at Tazi.
She realized that she was backlit by the sun, and her nightgown left nothing to the imagination. She started to raise her hands to cover herself, but then she stopped. Tazi knew that the necromancer had seen her inside and out and there were precious little secrets between them now. She held her position and met his gaze.
"I have you to thank for this," she offered and looked down at her own body. She noticed that she still bore his mark on her left shoulder, though it had faded to almost a smudge.
He tipped his head in acknowledgement. "I prefer you this way," he smiled, "at least, for now Oh, I believe this is yours as well." From a fold in his
robe, the necro — mancer produced Tazi's crimson dagger. She accepted it and marveled at the lich's confidence that he freely handed her a weapon capable of stopping a demon.
"I thank you for this." Not to be outdone, Tazi also added, "You didn't need to go to all that trouble just for me." She motioned to his appearance. "I see you for what you are, you know"
Smiling more broadly, Szass Tarn replied, "Why, Thazienne, I was about to say the same of you. We are well met, I think."
She turned from his critical stare and looked out the window again. The sight continued to pull at her heart. "It was a heavy price. I hope the Thayans realize what was sacrificed for their sake."
"They shall never know, Thazienne," he informed her.
"What? " Tazi asked, turning from the window.
Szass Tarn walked over to a small table that held a tiny plate of fruits ^nd a steaming pot and cup and seated himself. He motioned for Tazi to join him. She sat down and placed the dagger carefully on the table, keeping it in plain view
"You see," he explained reasonably and began to pour her a cup of tea, "it would not do for the people to know what transpired here in the Thaymount. We cannot have them see the Red Wizards as fallible."
"So you lie to them," she replied. She carefully accepted the full cup, suddenly leery of scalding herself.
"For their own good," he added pleasantly. "They need to have familiarity, constancy. The mind looks for consistent patterns and does not want to discover the out-of-the-ordinary. It is healthier for them to go about their daily lives without interruption."
Sipping her tea, Tazi added, "You mean, it's easier for you if they go about their business, none the wiser. You would do well to remember familiarity breeds contempt. Be careful, or you'll be hoist in your own petard one day."
The Crimson Gold r-3 Page 23
