"Take that!" one of the armored knights shouted, swinging a strangely mottled warhammer at one of the bushes. Branches snapped and splinters flew as the bush toppled to the ground. At the same time, another bush snaked out a sinuous branch to wrap around the hammer-wielding stranger's ankles, intent on dragging him to the ground. But the moment the branch touched the knight, it was instantly transformed into sticky blue cobwebs. The magical bush shuddered and contracted.
The knight spun around to attack another thornbush. Only then did Daile catch a glimpse of his face. She gasped in astonishment.
"Kern!" she cried out.
The strangers halted momentarily in their fighting, looking up at Daile and Gamaliel in surprise.
Daile hadn't seen the young man in many years, not since he visited the Valley of the Falls with his parents one summer, but she could never have mistaken him. It was Kern Desanea, son of her father's close friends, Tarl and Shal of the city of Phlan.
"Gamaliel, can you call off Evaine's defenses?" she asked desperately.
The great cat shifted back into his barbarian form and regarded her for a scant second before nodding. "Surrahk!" he cried. Immediately, the thornbushes shuffled obediently back to the hedge, sinking their roots into the soil once more. They quivered briefly, then were still.
The four wanderers lowered their weapons gratefully.
Kern's eyebrows knit themselves in concentration. "Daile?" he asked tentatively.
She laughed in answer, throwing her arms around him in a joyous embrace. He returned the gesture warmly.
"Daile, what are you doing here?" he asked, taking a step back to look at Daile.
"Saving you, it would seem," she laughed. "It's a good thing we came along when we did. I'd hate to be the one to have to tell Tarl and Shal that their son was beaten in battle by a rosebush."
"At least they wouldn't have to send flowers to the funeral," Listle added with a snort. The young paladin-aspirant shot the elven mage an annoyed glance.
Kern's armored companion stepped forward then, raising a gauntleted hand.
"It has been some time, Gamaliel."
The knight's voice carried a tinny echo that made Daile's heart skip a beat in her chest.
"It has indeed, Miltiades," Gamaliel answered, a rare look of wonderment crossing the usually stoic face of the barbarian. "Evaine will be pleased to see you again, as am I."
Slowly the knight raised the visor of his ornate helm.
Daile clamped a hand over her mouth in horror. It wasn't the face of a man she found herself staring at, but instead a hollow-eyed skull wearing a perpetual, lipless grin.
"Don't worry," the silver-eyed elf whispered to Daile with a conspiratorial wink. "He's much friendlier than he looks."
Daile could only nod, hoping the elf was right.
Evaine had forgotten just how much she liked Miltiades. The travelers found her sitting by the hearth, wrapped in a soft patchwork quilt. To her delight, Miltiades knelt before her and bowed his head.
"It is good to lay sight on you once again, fair sorceress," he intoned.
She clapped her hands together, laughing aloud for the first time since her fateful spirit journey with Shal. Momentarily, color stole back into her pale cheeks. "Nobody calls me 'fair sorceress,' Miltiades," she gently chastised the paladin.
"Then they do you a disservice, my lady," he said quite seriously.
Listle leaned close to Kern. "You know, you could probably take a few lessons in gallantry from Miltiades," she whispered.
"I'm gallant!" he whispered back defensively.
"If you say so."
There followed a great deal of catching up between old friends, as well as a fair number of introductions among new. Much to Kern's chagrin, Listle and Daile took an instant liking to each other. In moments, they were whispering and giggling, casting glances in his direction. The gods only knew what they were talking about, Kern grumped to himself. Two against one was entirely unfair.
Ren's booming laughter soon filled the sorceress's house. Like Daile, Evaine had noticed that the two years since Ciela's death had not been kind to the ranger. But the arrival of their old friend Miltiades brought some youthful animation to Ren's bearded face. For that, Evaine was grateful.
While the others talked, Sirana wandered about the wood-paneled main room, idly examining curious sculptures and old, gilt-edged books, just as any guest might. But Evaine had the peculiar feeling that Sirana's actions were not quite as offhand as they seemed. It was as if she was surveying the room, trying to calculate Evaine's power as a sorceress from the objects she possessed. Evaine decided to keep an eye on the beautiful wild mage.
However, Evaine had something more important to be concerned with for the present.
She found Kern in a small, sunlit side room.
"I figured that if I wasn't in plain view, Listle and Daile might not have such a good time talking about me," he explained a bit sheepishly.
Evaine, sitting in a chair opposite Kern, smiled. There was something unassuming yet compelling about the handsome young man. Evaine was quiet for a moment, gathering her strength for the question she knew she had to ask.
"Tell me, Kern, how is Shal?" she said finally.
Kern swallowed hard. "Well, she's alive."
Evaine let out a deep breath of relief, closing her eyes for a moment.
"But just barely," Kern went on. "She hasn't woken, Evaine, not since that… journey you two undertook. I don't know what happened during the spell-I don't really even understand what it was you two were trying to do-but ever since that day, Mother just lies there, growing paler and thinner."
Evaine shook her head. That the wizard of Denlor's Tower lived still was no minor miracle and was in itself a great testament to a strong spirit. The attack of the pool's guardian had left Evaine feeling sapped of all strength. Even now, nearly a tenday later, her joints still throbbed, and dark circles lingered under her eyes. Yesterday, she had attempted to light a candle with a routine incantation and had fainted from the excruciating pain that had surged through her body.
"We are lucky Shal is still with us," Evaine said, glad for the warm winter sunlight streaming through the window-panes. "You have a very dangerous enemy, Kern Desanea."
"I know." His shoulders slumped slightly, a troubled look crossing his broad face. "I… I hope the journey the two of you took wasn't for nothing."
"It wasn't," Evaine said firmly. "Don't think that Shal would do anything differently if she was given a second chance, Kern. She knew the risks involved when she agreed to the spirit journey, and she accepted them. Shal was prepared to live or die with the consequences of her actions." She gazed at Kern intently. "You must accept risks that are no less dangerous."
The young paladin stared at her. "I will do my best," he managed to say.
"Good," was Evaine's only reply.
Night descended swiftly this time of year, and it was already dark outside when everybody gathered around the oaken table in the comfortably cluttered main room.
"Shal and I made some important discoveries on our spirit journey," Evaine began. She clasped a mug of fragrant rose-hip tea in her hands. "First of all, whoever he may be, Kern's antagonist is not allied with the evil force that is warding Tyr's hammer in the ruins of the red tower. Instead, I think it's quite likely your enemy hopes to use you to obtain the hammer, Kern."
"Me?" Kern asked, picking at his bowl of venison stew.
"You have been ordained by Tyr to seek the hammer," Miltiades said in his reverberating voice. "And you are the only one who may lift the hammer from its hiding place. Since the attempt to abduct you failed at the temple, it seems likely this foe now intends to wait until you have acquired the relic before striking again."
Evaine sipped her tea, nodding. The paladin's reasoning made sense.
"How can you be so certain you're right?" Sirana asked the undead paladin. It was not lost on Listle that Sirana had shifted her chair closer to Kern's, so her arm b
rushed his slightly every time she moved. "Why wouldn't this elusive enemy try to abduct Kern again on the way to the red tower?"
"And pin his hopes on a tactic that has already failed once?" Listle asked with a bit more vitriol than intended.
"I see," was all Sirana said.
"Let's move on," Evaine said with a disapproving frown at both Sirana and Listle. "Shal and I made another discovery on our journey, one that should concern us even more. Kern's enemy has apparently allied himself with a creature guarding a magical pool in the Dragonspine Mountains. Pools contain enormous and perilous amounts of power-that's something I know about firsthand, as do Ren and Miltiades. That means our enemy has a considerable advantage. What's more, this pool is like none I've ever encountered before. There is something very primordial about its power. I think it's quite possible that this pool is older-older by far-than the others I've destroyed."
" 'For awaiting them still is the twilight pool's shadowed guardian,'" Kern murmured. Evaine arched a single eyebrow, regarding him curiously. "It's the last line of Bane's prophecy concerning the hammer," he explained.
" 'The twilight pool,'" Evaine repeated. "Never in all my studies have I come across any mention of a pool of twilight." The sorceress shrugged. "Well, one thing seems clear enough. If you find the Hammer of Tyr, Kern, don't plan on taking a rest right away. Be ready for another attack, and a powerful one. You can be sure it will come-and when you're at your weakest."
"Thanks for the advice," Kern said with understandably little enthusiasm.
Ren had been quiet through all of this, listening carefully. Now he spoke. "Well, Daile, what do you think?" he asked as he scratched his gray-shot beard.
"About what?" she asked in puzzlement.
"About going on another journey. I think Kern here could use a bit of help." He grinned mischievously. "Unless, of course, you'd rather hurry home to repair the keep's old stone walls."
Daile smiled happily. "Let the wind blow the leaves in," she said. "Kern, if you want my company, you've got it."
"I would consider it an honor," Kern said with a grin.
Suddenly a thought struck him, his smile vanishing. "I just remembered something," he said gloomily. "The prophecy said that five are to quest for the hammer. But if both you and Ren come with us, Daile, that will make six."
"Oh," Daile said, her spirits sinking. She sighed. So much for quests, she thought.
Kern gave Miltiades a troubled look.
"I cannot resolve this for you, Kern," the paladin said solemnly. "The prophecy speaks clearly. Only five can enter the red tower in search of Tyr's hammer. However, I will say this. How I know I cannot say, but it seems right to me that both Daile and Ren should journey with us."
"It's settled then," Kern said firmly.
Daile smiled excitedly. She had her quest after all.
It was late when Listle sought out Evaine. The sorceress sat near the hearth, gazing into the crimson flames.
"Evaine?"
The sorceress looked up, then smiled warmly. "Listle. What is it?"
Listle sat in the chair opposite Evaine, her silvery eyes earnest. "I need to ask you something." She took a deep breath, steeling her resolve. "What do you think of Sirana? I… I don't trust her."
There! She had said it. Maybe it marked her as little more than a jealous child. But Listle couldn't help but wonder if Evaine had noticed anything strange about the wild mage.
Evaine regarded Listle thoughtfully. The elf felt suddenly uncomfortable under the sorceress's piercing gaze.
"If you fear I'll believe your suspicions are motivated by jealousy, Listle, do not worry," Evaine said finally. "The wild mage is hiding something, of that I have no doubt. She is not all that she appears. You've sensed that, as have I." Her green eyes sparkled sharply in the firelight. "But then, you understand such matters well, do you not, Listle Onopordum?"
All color drained from Listle's face. She stared at the sorceress. How could Evaine have possibly known?
"Don't be afraid, Listle," Evaine said gently. "Your secret is safe with me. But a word of advice. The longer you keep a secret, the harder it is to reveal the truth. And in the end, the truth will be known. It's inevitable. You would do well to remember that."
Listle nodded. She could find no words to reply. Evaine knew!
"And keep an eye on Sirana," Evaine added. "It's up to you to make certain she tries nothing treacherous."
"I… I will," Listle whispered. "Thank you, Evaine." Trembling, she rose and hurried from the room, turning her back to hide the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
A moment later a figure stepped from the shadows and into the firelight. Beaten steel gleamed dully. A faint coldness tinged the air, along with a dry, dusty scent.
"She has a great deal to learn," Miltiades said quietly, standing beside Evaine's chair. His metal armor made no noise as he moved.
"Give her a few years, Miltiades," Evaine replied softly. "She hasn't had much time to come to grips with her true nature." She gazed up at the paladin. "Certainly not as much time as you and I have had to accept ours."
"You're right, of course."
"I know," she said with a crooked smile.
It was strange, Evaine thought. While she knew how formidable Miltiades could be in battle, somehow she had forgotten that his demeanor could be so gentle and gracious. It seemed a bit incongruous in a skeletal warrior of fearsome aspect, but Evaine knew it was the man he had been in life that was important, not his undead appearance. In fact, when she closed her eyes and listened to Miltiades speak, it was difficult to imagine him as anything but a living, breathing man.
Yet it was a reverie that was shattered each time she gazed at the yellowed bones of his face.
"You should go to sleep," Miltiades said after a silence. "If Gamaliel discovers you are still awake, he's liable to grab you by the scruff of your neck and haul you to bed like a kitten."
"You're not kidding," she said with a wry laugh. She sighed wearily. "But I can't sleep tonight, Miltiades. I can't stop thinking about the twilight pool and its guardian." She remembered something. "Here, I want you to have this." She pulled a small object from a pocket. It was an ornate brooch of gold, set with a single diamond-clear crystal. "I have a similar gem. These will allow us to keep in contact, no matter the distance that separates us."
Miltiades took the brooch. "I will not lose it."
"You'd better not!" Evaine said with mock severity. "These things aren't a copper piece a dozen, you know." Her face softened. "Be careful on your journey, old friend." Slowly, she reached out a hand and touched the paladin's gauntlet.
She breathed in sharply, feeling sudden pain, and snatched her hand back. His gauntlet was cold! Terribly, terribly cold. It hurt just to brush it with her fingertips. She looked at the undead paladin.
Strange, she thought, that his visage could seem so tragic even though it was devoid of flesh.
"I am sorry, Evaine," he said quietly.
"No," she said firmly, her eyes as hard as jade. "Don't be sorry, Miltiades. Don't ever be sorry. We are what we are."
The skeletal man said nothing in reply.
10
A Prophecy Fulfilled
The denizens of the coffin walls rattled their bones in a mockery of laughter. Bits of broken teeth and tatters of mummified flesh rained down on Kern. The darkness of the nave hungrily swallowed the light of his holy shield. He shook his head against the dizzying stench and struggled to control the dream.
Behold, Hammerseeker! I have a gift for you.
Like moldering curtains of suffocating velvet, the darkness parted, revealing a sarcophagus fashioned of corpse-pale stone. A death mask was carved into the heavy lid, showing the likeness of a young man with blankly staring eyes. The face was Kern's. With a sound like grinding bones, the lid of the sarcophagus slowly shifted to one side.
Come, climb within, paladin of Tyr. You cannot refuse my gift.
Kern steeled his will. Somehow, h
e had to turn the nightmare to his own advantage.
"I… I was wrong to resist you," he said dully, keeping his gaze blank. "The majesty of… of your darkness is too great."
At last, you have gained wisdom, youngling. The voice in the darkness spoke with satisfaction.
"Never could I have slain you," Kern went on in a fawning voice, preparing himself for a gamble. He took a deep breath. "Never could I have come close enough to strike at your one weakness."
Weakness? the voice shrieked. Kern shuddered under the brutal force of its outrage. I am as powerful as the darkness itself. I have no weakness!
Kern bowed his head in a perfect semblance of trembling submission. "Of course, Great One! I was foolish to believe the tales I was told!"
Laughter gushed out of the nave like putrid water. Pitiful youngling! Were you told that you could simply cut the thread that binds me to my web? How terribly easy it must have sounded! Ah, how cruel are those who spoke such lies to you. Something stirred in the darkness, something with spindly, ghost-white limbs. No magic you possess could ever sever me from the source of my power, youngling.
Kern felt a surge of hope. He was certain that, in its pride, the creature had let slip an important secret. But what was it?
Enough of this, Hammerseeker! The end has come, and you have lost.
Suddenly, Kern's hopes were transformed into terror. Tentacles of shadow snaked out of the sarcophagus, coiling tightly around him. He struggled in horror, but could not break free of their stranglehold.
At last, triumph is mine!
Kern screamed as the tentacles dragged him into the cold, confining interior of the sarcophagus, pinning his limbs in place. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.
The coffin lid began to slide into place…
This time Kern owed his life to Sirana.
He woke up gasping, the wild mage bending over him. A strange, colorless mist enclosed him.
Pool of Twilight hop-3 Page 13
