Anusha couldn't contain a cry of alarm. The Dreamheart bounced once, then rolled to the center of the niche and stopped dead like a piece of metal on a lodestone.
Japheth said, his voice far away, "I had a dream the stars spoke my name…"
The man's gaze tracked down to the Dreamheart. Incredulity swept his features. He reached out and, with a fold of his cloak, encapsulated the sphere. With a shake of his hand and a flourish of the shadowy garment, the awful thing was gone.
"What were you doing with that? Were you holding it?" Anusha finally managed. The mere glimpse of the stone pained her. The psychic current flowing through Xxiphu seemed to tug and pull on her skin.
Japheth bent his head down to one hand and massaged his forehead for a moment. Then his hand dropped to his side and he said, "I found a way to reclaim my power, Anusha. A way that doesn't rely on the Lord of Bats. My spells… well, some old and many new… are mine to cast once more." He smiled.
Yeva said, "What was the stone you were holding? Does that have anything to do with your reclaimed powers?"
"I used it as a key to find them, yes."
"Then you are tainted, human," Yeva said. "Even without my body, I could smell the stink of corruption on the orb you hid in your cloak. I'm surprised the aboleths haven't already turned you into one of their slime-fleshed servitors."
Japheth looked uncertain, but he shook his head. "A reckoning may eventually find me, true enough. When I sought to swear a new pact…"
The man's eyes narrowed. He shook his head as if to jar loose an unpleasant memory and said, "But that's just one possible future. Right now, the important thing is that I have reclaimed my spells and rituals. I have power enough to release Anusha's mind from the Eldest. And perhaps enough to tie your spirit to a body that can hold it without Anusha's constant maintenance."
"When?" Yeva said, hope naked in her voice.
"As soon as we free Anusha's dream and clear out of here."
Anusha didn't know how to react. She regarded the revitalized warlock. His rejuvenation seemed too good to be true, like she had slipped into a daydream and just hadn't realized it yet.
Of course, finding Japheth clutching one of the Eldest's eyes in his sleep like a stuffed child's toy wasn't really the definition of too good. It was the same relic that sucked her mind into Xxiphu in the first place! She watched Japheth, trying to discern any change in him from his contact with the relic. Had he really sworn a pact with it?
The man stood up and shook out his cloak. The sick trembling that had invaded his limbs was gone, as if it had never been. The set of his shoulders was as wide and commanding as she'd thought them when she'd trailed Japheth unseen through the streets of New Sarshel so long before. And his eyes were lucid and unmistakably clear of the least residue of the terrible dust he'd indulged overlong. "You've sworn a new pact," she said. "To the Eldest?" The psychic undertow strengthened around her.
"No," he said, his tone definitive. "I've sworn to entities beyond the world of men and monsters-and aboleths who've outlived their time like the Eldest. I have sworn a pact to the undying stars." He looked up, and Anusha followed his gaze. The only thing above them was the blank, damp rock face of the cavity. Japheth continued to gaze at the ceiling as if he could see through the rock and all the earth between him and the empty sky over Faerun.
"I don't understand," Anusha said. "How can the stars offer you power? And… how are mere points of light able to relieve you of your addiction to traveler's dust?"
"Also," Yeva broke in, "if you claim your spells now flow from celestial objects, why did we find you with your hands wrapped around the petrified eye of the Eldest? Are you trying to suggest there is no connection whatever?"
"Honestly, that troubles me too," Anusha said. "I'm sorry to keep pressing you on this, but just what role did the Dreamheart play in your rejuvenation?" She ignored the invisible tide that surged all around her, willing herself to remain in place and focus on the warlock's words.
Japheth raised his hands, a placatory smile on his face. "No need to apologize, it's a fair concern. I'd have the same. It's hard to explain to someone not versed in arcana, but mainly I needed a catalyst. Some arcane source of power I could use to unlock the spells I once enjoyed thanks to Neifion. The Dreamheart provided that. But to answer Yeva's earlier question: Yes. A tiny thread of connection has been forged between myself and the master of Xxiphu."
Anusha retreated a step. The tide seemed to froth and bubble around her. She was surprised the others couldn't see and feel it.
"Japheth," she said, "I-"
"Listen!" he said. "I did not give up my independence! I remain my own man. Yes, the Eldest served as the conduit for finding my new pact, but that's all. The Eldest doesn't even know I exist. Moreover… the tiny connection I do share will help me find your focus in the creature's mind." He looked at Anusha, his face beseeching. "Find it, and free you from all this. And perhaps Yeva too."
So many battling impulses occupied Anusha, she couldn't honestly say how she felt. And the influence pulling at her wasn't making it any easier to think!
It horrified her that Japheth would bind himself to the very thing trying to consume her soul. But seeing him standing, clear eyed and in command of his body-and apparently flush once again with potent magic… she couldn't deny it fueled a tiny flame of hope.
"Anusha?" he asked, and held out his hand. "Take me to the Eldest, and I will remove your focus from its mind.
But we must be quick. Each hour that passes, more and more of its scattered thoughts return to it. Soon the dreaming thing will rouse, and then it'll be too late."
Anusha exclaimed in dismay, "The tide has me again!"
Yeva leaped for Anusha and grasped her arm. But the mottled woman's own flesh began to steam, on the verge of falling into so many formless motes.
Japheth's eyes widened. He lunged, but his hands passed through her. Anusha felt herself being swept away, just as she had been on the balcony.
The warlock said, "Not again!" and uttered a series of syllables, each one forming a pulse of blue light. The points of illumination spun themselves into a chain of light that snapped around her and Yeva.
The crashing blare of the undertow instantly quieted. Anusha imagined she felt the solid floor of the tunnel beneath her feet once more. Yeva's skin and clothing ceased their dissipation.
"That…" said Japheth, "was close."
The ephemeral cord of light faded away, but the psychic undercurrent remained bearable. However, it was not gone.
Anusha shuddered, then took a deep breath. The warlock couldn't have shown her any more clearly that he retained his mind. If he hadn't taken his new pact, she'd have been no more.
More than anything else, she just wanted to believe him. In the end, that moved her more than reason or odds.
She took his hand, imagining hers solid enough for him to hold. He said, "I can only hold you back for a little while."
"Then come," Anusha said. "Yeva and I found a route out of the nursery."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Xxiphu, Lower Capital
Raidon advanced down a rounded tunnel, Angul naked in one hand. His Cerulean Sign insulated his mind against the sword's overweening ego. Mostly.
Silvery grass filled the corridor, growing on the floor, the walls, and even the ceiling. It was like grass in shape only, the blades seemed slightly metallic. When a peculiar wind gusted down the corridor every few spans, the rustling blades made a sound like the ringing of thousands of tiny bells.
Seren and Thoster walked abreast a few feet behind the monk's lead. Four crew brought up the rear.
Thoster absentmindedly clutched at the amulet hanging over his coat.
Seren's fist was tight around her wand. Instead of the white sari and sandals she normally wore, the wizard was dressed in a heavy red robe and black boots.
Raidon had noted the wardrobe change, but made no comment.
Whe
n they came to an intersection, Raidon paused. He turned and said, "Let's take a moment before we continue."
"Sounds good," said Thoster. The man requested a pack from one of the crew and opened it. He produced biscuits and watered wine and shared them around.
"Hey, Seren," said the captain as everyone nibbled on their small repast, "I was meaning to ask you before… what's with the red?"
Everyone turned to watch the wizard.
Seren said, "My regular clothes are too light for trudging into who knows what we'll find in here. This old robe is much better suited for tunnel crawling."
"Really? Because if I just ran into you on the street and didn't know any better, I'd think you were a Red Wizard."
Raidon realized Thoster was right. She was accoutred just like one of that feared arcane order.
Seren frowned. "Don't worry about it. I happen to like the color red."
Thoster chuckled. "Oh, that's rich."
Seren said, "Don't make me regret helping you earlier, Captain."
Thoster raised a hand in surrender.
"Anyway" Seren said, "I am a Red Wizard, even if Thay wants me dead and the others won't have me. I didn't choose to leave the fold, they left me! So… get used to it, Thoster. And you too, Raidon. I'm not going to hide who I am any longer."
The captain said, "Yeah, but a Red-"
Seren interrupted, "Maybe you should consider following my lead, Captain."
Thoster's face colored. He suddenly seemed very interested in his biscuit.
Raidon knew he was seeing the surface of some secret the wizard and the captain shared. And he supposed the wizard was suffering from some sort of personal trial, probably brought to a head by their run-in with the bounty hunter. He considered digging deeper to find out what it all portended. It bothered him that he wasn't more interested.
It is unimportant, sent Angul. Our quest takes precedence.
Raidon agreed. He swallowed the last of his small meal and stood, brushing his hands on his coat. "Let's go."
*****
The vegetation thickened as they moved deeper into Xxiphu, becoming denser and higher. Finally Raidon was wading through growth that reached his waist. Each step was something of a struggle.
It reminded him of a time, back before the Spellplague, when he'd taken little Ailyn out to the country to enjoy the day. How she'd loved running through the long grass in the meadow. She would get lost in it, but jump every so often just high enough-
"This route you've selected for us, my Shou friend," said Thoster, "puts me in mind of a three-legged cat on deck during high seas."
"I don't even know what that means," muttered Seren.
Raidon paused, allowing the wisps of his past to evaporate. He said over his shoulder, "It looks as if the grass thins out ahead. Regardless, I sense this is the quickest way to the Eldest. This is the way we proceed."
The captain swept off his hat and executed a mock bow, his face just avoiding the top of the grass. "After you." Raidon didn't waste breath telling the captain he could return to his ship if he was unhappy with their route. He resumed trudging down the vegetated corridor.
The Cerulean Sign reacted strongly to the grass-but it reacted nearly as strongly to the stone walls of the corridor and even the air. In Xxiphu, few things were not tainted.
As the half-elf promised, the grass thinned out, coinciding with a widening in the corridor. A silver bulb sprouted in the center of the area from a particularly thick piece of grass… actually more like a stem than a blade. The pod was just larger than a man, though its exact dimensions were not fixed, it gradually thickened and thinned, contorting like quicksilver in slow motion. Raidon saw his features distorted in the bulb's undulating body. He concentrated on it to the exclusion of everything else, and the Cerulean Sign cooled.
"Stay clear of the bulb," Raidon said. "It's possibly dangerous."
"Hells, do you really think so?" said Thoster. "I thought it was just a boil on a halfling's ass."
Raidon's back muscles twitched, a movement too small for anyone else to notice. The captain's constant wiseacre comments were beginning to wear on him. He knew the privateer was being willfully facetious, but he replied anyway, "If you value your life, stay clear. I sense this growth is set here as a sentry-it's not a random weed."
So saying, Raidon began to edge around the expanded space in the corridor, giving the bulb as wide a berth as he could.
Seren moved to emulate him. "At least the grass is shorter here," she said.
Thoster chuckled to himself a moment, then followed. The crew member "volunteers" brought up the rear.
Halfway around the chamber, the Sign's temperature dropped more precipitously.
The monk had the distinct sense through the spellscar that something abominable approached from the direction they were headed. Raidon held up his hand, calling a halt. He looked back to make eye contact with the others and put a finger of his other hand to his lips. He hoped the captain would refrain from his mocking comments, if just this once.
A scraping, belling cacophony issued down the tunnel. It sounded like silvery grass being shoved aside in a wide swathe.
Raidon could just make out a shape lumbering toward them, but the reflective vegetation still hid its exact nature.
Seren began to chant arcane syllables. He heard the captain draw his golemwork blade. Raidon readied himself to slay whatever threatened their progress with the eager length of Angul.
The shape crested the last of the high, silvery blades. It was an aboleth the size of a chariot.
Thoster said, "Blood!"
The aboleth's five scattered, red eyes rotated in their sockets to focus on the invaders. A mucous haze engulfed Raidon. The smell was overwhelming. He heard Seren gag and cough, losing her spell before she could release it.
Angul flared. The thin coating of slime that had misted across the sword and Raidon burned away in a puff of steam. The words "Aberrations shall be purged*dropped from Raidon's lips before he realized the sword had got its hooks into him again.
Not that it mattered. The aboleth would be purged.
Raidon leaped. Rather, he tried to. Instead, he fell onto his elbows when his feet failed to leave the ground.
Several dozen silvery blades had wrapped around his calves without his notice.
Thoster called, "The grass is alive!"
A sharp tug around the monk's ankles pulled him closer to the center of the tunnel, where the mirrorlike pod undulated. He saw that besides himself, Thoster and two of the crew were similarly ensnared. Even as he watched, the sinuous grass transferred one of the screaming crew members to the globe. The pod languidly nodded down on it s stem as if to deliver a blank-faced kiss to the flailing figure being dragged tait.
The moment one of the man's thrashing arms touched the pod, a shiny tide rushed to cover the crew member's entire body, cutting off his screams. Not even a boot or grasping hand protruded a heartbeat later. The pod lazily resumed its former upright position at the end of its stalk, still thickening and thinning, though perhaps slightly larger than it had been. Other than that, there was no evidence that a man's life had just been snuffed out. Raidon used the Blade Cerulean to cut the strands tangling his legs. He snapped to his feet.
"Cut the stalk," Seren yelled, pointing at the bulb.
Kill the aboleth, Angul urged, pulling him around to face the malevolent watcher.
Raidon charged the aboleth.
It vomited a fist of slime that whined past his head.
His advance was slowed by the rippling grass, which kept tripping him. He managed to avoid most of the blades, but not all. His attack failed several paces short of punching the blade through the aboleth's belly.
Instead, he was forced to use Angul to cut away the sea of entangling, angry blades that writhed around him like a nest of headless hydras.
The aboleth's eyes tracked him. He felt their malign power attempting to burrow into his brain and overwrite it with new thoughts and n
ew goals.
Raidon shook off the influence. His mind was too well schooled to be suborned. Or perhaps it was the Blade Cerulean, who didn't like competitors.
Fending off a tentacle slap with a savage cut from Angul, he advanced once more. He managed to pare away one of the aboleth's tentacles. The creature didn't seem to care that one of its four limbs lay severed and squirming in the grass. It was as if the aboleth had no fear for its own safety.
Not that Angul cared either, for considerations of defense or even caution. By extension, neither did Raidon.
The haze surrounding the creature pulsed, becoming momentarily thick as mud. Then it sleeted everything in glistening slime the color of bilge water and no less smelly. He heard the shouts of his compatriots, caught in the same ooze burst.
Raidon found himself slimed under a layer of hardening muck that sought to immobilize him, making him once again easy prey for the silvery grass.
The monk put his free hand to his chest and summoned energy from the Cerulean Sign. A blaze of pure blue light burst from it. The illumination shattered the hardening shell of slime.
Even as the aboleth tried to blink the afterimage of the cerulean light from its five eyes, Raidon crossed the final distance between them. He slid the entire length of Angul into the aboleth's brain.
The aboleth's death gurgle rattled down the corridor. Raidon pulled Angul free. The blade burned the creature's nasty blood from its length with a sheet of fire.
"Hey, Raidon, some help, eh?"
He turned.
Thoster remained caught in the entangling grass. The privateer was half again as close to the pod as he'd started.
A coating of hardened slime resisted the man's every move. The captain slashed his clicking sword to sever strands of grass, but for every strand he cut, two more twined around him.
Seren had enshrouded herself in a translucent globe of protective spell light. The defensive magic had apparently shielded her from the ooze burst and-so far, at least- resisted the increasingly frantic attempts of the silvery blades to penetrate it. He could hear her chanting the arcane precursors to another spell.
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