by Kate Novak
"What do you want from us?" Joel demanded, his patience with this horror wearing thin.
"Ah, well. It is only fitting that my slave"-he waved his hand in Walinda's direction-"should have slaves of her own. It is also practical. Loyal though she is, the tasks I must set for her may be beyond her powers. I thought to reward her with slaves who would amuse her"-the banelich motioned with his hand to indicate Joel-"as well as those who would be useful," he added, waving his hand at Jedidiah, Holly, and Jas.
Walinda raised her head a fraction of an inch and met the young bard's look with a sly smile. Joel felt a flush rise to his face.
Holly stepped forward in front of Joel and declared hotly, "We are not slaves, and we will never serve such as you!"
"How bravely you speak, little paladin of Lathander," the banelich said with a gravely chuckle. "But how little you know. This one," he said, pointing at Jedidiah, "would do anything to regain the finder's stone. And this one," he said, pointing to Joel, "will do anything to help him. He may even find serving my slave pleasurable."
Joel caught Walinda watching him again, and he turned away, fixing his eyes firmly on Jedidiah. "We'll perform a service in exchange for the finder's stone, but we will not serve you or yours," Jedidiah said sharply. "I presume the task you had in mind is retrieving the Hand of Bane."
The banelich nodded. "Naturally. You are familiar with some of the other planes, the homes of the gods and the tanar'ri and the archons. The outer planes share a common ground known as the Outlands. The hand of Bane is-"
"In Sigil," Jedidiah interrupted. "The Hub of the Universe, the Cage, City of Doors, Place of Mazes."
"You are every bit as clever as your reputation," the banelich said, its undead voice revealing the tiniest hint of surprise.
"Walinda said it was in a place where no god could steal it," Jedidiah explained. "That pretty much defines Sigil, doesn't it?"
The banelich nodded. "You will fetch for me the Hand of Bane. Then I will reward you with this bauble," he said, holding the finder's stone aloft in a skeletal hand. With that, the creature rose and walked back toward the darkness of the cabin.
Jedidiah stepped forward and called out, "Banelich!”
The banelich turned, and Joel felt the bottom drop out of his stomach again. The creature's hatred was so oppressive Joel's joints ached from trying to stand, and he had trouble breathing. He heard Holly whimper and Jas growl.
"Yes?" the banelich asked.
"When I fetch the Hand of Bane,"Jedidiah said, "it will be for myself. I'll exchange it for the finder's stone.'
The banelich pulled the tatters of its flesh back into a smile. It nodded in agreement to the subtle change Jedidiah had made to the wording of their bargain. Then it turned back to the door and disappeared into the cabin.
Joel breathed with relief when the weight of the creature's stare had been removed.
Walinda sat once again in the chair. "It is so good to have you aboard, Poppin," she said smiling at Joel. "And the rest of you as well," she added, her eyes settling maliciously on Jas.
"We will use this ship to fly over the Desertsmouth Mountains and into the Great Desert, Anauroch," the priestess informed them. "Buried under the sand are the ruins of the fabled kingdom of Netheril. There, among the debris of one of their ruined citadels, is a gate to the Outlands, the shared land of the outer planes. Our goal, the city of Sigil, rises from the center of the Outlands."
The gate you speak of is called Cat's Gate. I know the place," Jedidiah said. "You can drop us off at the mouth of the River Ashaba. We'll meet you at Cat's Gate four days hence."
"You will go with me to Netheril now," Walinda declared.
Jedidiah strode behind the chair and leaned over the priestess's shoulder. "Tell me, slave, can you surrender power and still wield it?" he asked sharply.
"No," Walinda replied automatically. She looked up, startled, at the old priest. "So you are acquainted with some of the tenets of my faith. What does that prove? You will still accompany me to Cat's Gate forthwith."
Jedidiah leaned in close to the priestess's ear and whispered, "When you held the finder's stone, you wielded power. But you surrendered that power to the disgusting monster you see fit to worship. Since it holds the finder's stone, I made my deal with it. I will recover the Hand of Bane because I must have the finder's stone back. If you want to help-and reap some of that abomination's gratitude-you will meet me at the gate. In the meantime, I will escort my friends to a place of safety where we can rest comfortably before the journey and I can gather together such items as we will need to find the Hand of Bane."
Jedidiah strode over to the ship's railing. "In any case, there is no way you can hold us against our will… unless you were to call on the banelich to aid you." Walinda glared at the older priest, and Joel realized what Jedidiah must have already known: Walinda did not dare give the appearance of being weak before the banelich. The priestess shrugged and said, "There is no need to get off at the River Ashaba. This ship can carry you to the Lost Vale. That is where you're headed, isn't it?"
Jedidiah chuckled. "I'm not about to reveal the location of the Lost Vale to you, my dear. Finder has a temple there, and your god has a reputation of being a rude guest in other gods' temples. And after having been enslaved by Moander, the inhabitants of the vale would prefer to avoid the attentions of any more evil gods."
"I will discover it when I fly over the mountains," Walinda said with a shrug.
"You can try," Jedidiah said with a grin.
Joel nodded. The old priest had already explained to him that one could not find the Lost Vale by searching. It had to be entered magically.
"You'd best go inform your lord of our plans," Jedidiah told Walinda, "so he can set course accordingly. Due south of here should be perfect."
Walinda rose. "I will do so." She gave Joel a knowing smile, then went into the cabin.
After a few moments, the ship rose, then began to move southward so smoothly it felt as if they were on a raft adrift in a smooth-flowing river.
Joel joined Jedidiah at the ship's rail. They stared down at the bluff below them and watched the flames of their former campfire recede. "If the banelich is undead," the Rebel Bard asked in a whisper, "can't you destroy it or send it away with a prayer like you did with the skeletons and zombies?"
Jedidiah shook his head. "Walinda has consecrated this vessel to Bane. That makes it the banelich's turf. If I had the power that I put in the finder's stone, I might have taken the banelich in combat. Of course, if I had that power, the banelich wouldn't have come near me. It must have been watching us, and when it saw me pouring power into the stone, it seized its chance. That cloak Walinda has-the one that shielded you from the beholder's sight in the Temple in the Sky-she must have been wearing that. I didn't feel her stealing the stone, but I remember smelling her-the perfume in her hair. If I hadn't been concentrating on turning the undead, I think I would have detected her. At any rate, we could fight the banelich, but there's no guarantee we'd all come out alive, and there's a good chance the finder's stone would be destroyed in the banelich's death throes. I'm sorry, Joel, but I just can't risk it."
"But you can't give the Hand of Bane to the banelich," Joel argued.
Jedidiah smiled grimly. "You were afraid of what Finder would think when you allied yourself with Walinda. Now I have to decide which of two evils would displease Finder more-the loss of his relic containing the power he granted me or the resurrection of Bane."
Jedidiah turned to gaze at Jas and Holly. They were leaning against the railing as far from the cabin as they could get. Holly was still clutching her head. Her paladin ability to sense evil was overloading from prolonged exposure to the banelich's proximity. Jas was stroking the girl's hair comfortingly, even though the winged woman herself looked deathly pale and exhausted.
"We may find another course yet," Jedidiah said, "between now and when we've retrieved the Hand of Bane. In the meantime, I'm going to help your compan
ions. The banelich's painwrack spell can actually do physical damage to its victims. As priests of Finder, we were protected from it by our god, but they weren't. When Walinda returns, try to keep her entertained so she isn't goading Jas and Holly. The strife only serves to amuse the banelich and might possibly be nourishing °
Joel nodded. He watched the old priest tending Holly, singing a Dales lullaby while he used his healing power to ease the pain in her head. Holly fell asleep with her head in Jas's lap. Jedidiah then spoke softly with Jas. The winged woman looked angry and disdainful, but as the bard spoke, her features softened. In the end, she nodded. Jedidiah laid his hands on her shoulders, and healing energy rippled about the woman's body. When the old priest had finished, he sat back beside Jas, leaning against the railing. Apparently the winged woman had come to some sort of peace with Joel's mentor, for she laid her head on his shoulder to sleep.
Jedidiah closed his eyes. Joel couldn't remember ever seeing the old priest so tired. For that matter, he couldn't remember ever seeing the old priest tired at all.
Joel waited for Walinda to reappear. It was nearly half an hour before she emerged from the cabin. She carried two goblets and joined him at the railing.
"Bane is most generous. He has agreed to the old man's request," she said.
"I don't think it was a request," Joel countered.
Walinda appeared not to have heard Joel's comment "I thought we might drink to our quest," she said, handing him a goblet.
Joel met the woman's forthright gaze. Several thoughts raced through his head. Jedidiah had asked him to entertain this woman, ostensibly to keep her from goading Jas and Holly into any fights, but the old priest was canny enough to realize that Walinda's interest in the Rebel Bard could be used to his advantage. For Jedidiah's sake, to regain the finder's stone, Joel was prepared to let himself be used. Still, there were things he could not do.
"I would prefer to drink to the return of the finder's stone to Finder's priests," he said, holding up his goblet.
"Then I will drink to the resurrection of Lord Bane," Walinda replied.
They sipped from their drinks. The liquid was mead, old and mellow.
"Is there nothing to which we can both drink?" Walinda asked demurely.
"I don't think we have all that much in common," Joel said, laying his left hand on the railing.
"I know," Walinda said "We can toast our escape from the Temple in the Sky."
Joel lowered his eyes with embarrassment.
"It's all right, Poppin," the priestess said, laying her right hand on his left. "I forgive you for abandoning me."
"Are Banites allowed to forgive?" Joel asked in mock surprise.
Walinda lowered her eyes as if she'd truly been chastised, then looked back up at the Rebel Bard. "Perhaps I should have said I understand that you were not at fault. My lord came to my rescue in this ship. He found a way to make it fly. His power grows with my faith," she said.
Recalling Jedidiah's explanation of the spelljammer, Joel replied, "Actually, any spellcaster, priest or mage, can make this ship fly."
Walinda's eyes half closed in anger.
"Your lord didn't tell you that?" Joel asked. "Well, you are just a slave," he added, relishing the chance to make her feel less exalted.
Walinda winced as if she'd been cut. She looked back up at Joel, a sly smile on her face. She slid her right hand up from his fingers into the cuff of his sleeve and squeezed his wrist. "See? We do have something in common. You want to degrade me."
Startled by the priestess's words and the gleam in the her eyes, Joel pulled his arm away from her grasp and looked away, into the night sky. He couldn't think of a safe reply that was either honest or sensible.
"You remind me of myself," Walinda said, "before I met my god. I did not know my purpose. I could command a legion and break any man in interrogation. I could heal soldiers who had earned Bane's grace and raise the dead. I had so many duties, yet my worship seemed to have no purpose. Now I know fully why I am a priestess. I serve Bane. I am his servant, his slave. It is the sweetest knowledge imaginable. There is nothing greater I can be."
Walinda took a sip from her goblet, then continued "You are a priest of Finder. You recreate art, search for new meaning in every variation, use your art to bring about change."
Joel looked back at Walinda with surprise.
"Yes," the priestess said. "You see, I understand something of the tenets of your faith as well as the old priest understands ours. But there is something that transcends the tenets of our separate faiths, something that I have, but so far you can only long for. You do not believe that your service has meaning. Are you just another whisper to Finder? Does he send you your spells automatically, without thinking, in that careless manner the gods sometimes have? If another were to take your place, if you were to become something besides a priest, would it make any difference?"
Joel sipped at the mead, wondering if it was really possible that this woman could have felt all the things that he had. Perhaps, he thought, she's just used some magic trinket to read my thoughts.
"If you heard his voice say your name and command you, as I heard Lord Bane's," Walinda whispered, "then you would know your purpose, and your heart would question nothing." The priestess leaned against Joel. The bard could smell the rose perfume in her hair and the spicy incense that clung to her velvet gown. She laid her hand on his neck. Her hand was very warm. She stroked his shoulder with the tips of her fingernails. Exhausted as the bard was from days of fleeing in the rough countryside, the woman's touch was quite relaxing.
"See," the priestess whispered, "you do want to be a slave."
Joel sighed softly. Then her words connected in his brain. He pulled away from her hand and stepped bad from the railing. He could sense the danger in the woman's touch.
Walinda laughed at his reaction. She leaned forward and whispered, "Your reserve is very becoming, Poppin. I could break through all those barriers. Stay with me on the ship. Why walk miles through rough terrain when you can enjoy a smooth ride in the company of someone who knows what you really want? You can tell the old man you are protecting his stone."
"Does the finder's stone need to be protected?" he asked.
"You tell me. Lord Bane is fascinated by it, yet I do not think he understands it. If he thought it would bring him power, he would crack it like a nut. Would it bring him power?" Walinda asked.
Joel frowned at the question. Walinda must presume the stone held some power. Would the banelich really risk breaking the stone to try to steal Jedidiah's power? Could the creature succeed? Should I stay, Joel wondered, to be sure the stone is kept intact until Jedidiah returns?
"Think how you will feel, Poppin," Walinda said, "if you reach the Lost Vale and visit the temple to Finder, yet nothing changes. Finder does not need you." She pointed to Jedidiah. "Finder already has a priest with no doubts. A priest who doesn't question the meaning of his service. But you will never truly know the joy of serving. Your journey is in vain. When it is finished you will not even have your hope left." She drained her goblet and tossed it overboard.
Joel looked at Jedidiah with envy. The old priest was so favored that he carried half of the finder's stone. Or at least he did. Jedidiah had told him the pilgrimage to the Lost Vale was important, but did the elderly priest really understand him, know how he felt? Probably not. Walinda was right; Jedidiah had no doubts about being a priest.
"Stay with me and I will give you new hopes," the priestess offered, sliding her hands about his neck. She squeezed at his throat ever so gently. Alarmed by the choking sensation, Joel dropped his goblet and snatched Walinda's wrists. She did not resist as he pulled her hands from his neck.
Joel released her and backed away another step. "Hopelessness… that's the specialty of the house in a temple of Bane, isn't it?" he asked. "And you are a master in its uses."
Walinda bowed her head in acknowledgment of the compliment.
"I took a vow to make a pilgri
mage to the Lost Vale," the bard declared. "I will not be foresworn, whether my journey brings me closer to my god or not."
"Pride, not faith," Walinda commented. "Very well, Poppin. But I know you will be back. Only one god can enslave as Bane can. And when you return, I shall make you suffer for making me wait. But, then, making you suffer will not displease me either," she added. Then she strode from the deck into the cabin.
Joel shivered in the warm night air. The ease with which a murderess could manipulate his feelings filled him with despair. He wrapped his cloak about him and lay down on the deck, hoping sleep would release him from his fears and doubts. For a long time, he lay awake thinking of Walinda's threat that he would be back Finally he heard Jedidiah singing softly in the darkness, another lullaby, only this one from Berdusk, a cradlesong Joel's own mother had once sung to Joel. Then the Rebel Bard slept.
Ten
Journey To The Lost Vale
Joel awoke to Jedidiah's gentle shaking of his shoulder.
"We've made port," the old priest said. "Time to kiss the earth, as the sailors say."
The sun was just rising over the Dagger Hills. Jedidiah was smiling, but he looked tired.
Joel sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. "Did you get any sleep?" he asked. "Someone should have awakened me to take a watch."
Jedidiah shook his head. "I couldn't have slept here anyway, and it was my turn to take the watch. Besides, there wasn't anything really to watch for. The banelich has made his deal. There aren't too many creatures about to fight a ship in the sky."
Joel stood up and looked around. The ship sat at the base of a magnificent waterfall. The water's flow was not great, but it fell over a hundred feet, sparkling in the sunshine. It would join with several other streams to become the River Ashaba. Holly and Jas were leaning over the railing, watching the water with obvious pleasure. Walinda was seated in her chair, watching the bard. "That woman gives me the shivers," Jedidiah muttered. He turned and bowed low to Walinda. "Until we meet again, lady," he addressed her.
