The Eve of the Maelstrom

by Jean Rabe

  The shifting bands of gray became paler, and tendrils of hair framed a smooth face. “Goldmoon,” Jasper whispered. “It is you.”

  “Jaz-pear!”

  The dwarf’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked, focused on a lighter patch close to the floor of the cave. No Goldmoon. Only his imagination.

  “Jaz-pear!”

  “Groller?”

  The half-ogre saw Jasper move. “Jaz-pear! Wuz fraid you dead.”

  “I thought I was too, my friend. In fact.. Jasper let his words trail off. “I might as well be talking to myself. You can’t hear me. Ouch!” The dwarf tried to pull himself closer to Groller, but his broken leg hurt too much. He saw the half-ogre lying next to him, a trickle of blood on his forehead. Groller must have fallen, too. “We’ll wait for Rig,” the dwarf decided. “Rig’ll miss us, eventually find us. He’ll get us out of here.”

  “Jaz-pear. Hurd bad.”

  Yes, I am, the dwarf answered to himself. My leg’s broken. I’m one big bruise. I’m surprised I’m alive.

  “Jaz-pear. I cand feel by legs. Cand move.”

  The dwarf cursed himself for not thinking first of Groller. Goldmoon would have never thought of herself first.

  He gritted his teeth and inched forward, relying on his good leg. The floor was slick with guano. He gasped. The air was foul, stale and heavy. The dwarf gagged on the scent, felt what little he’d eaten today rise into his throat.

  “Almost there,” he said. “A few more yards.” Might as well be miles, he thought. And once I get to Groller – if I can get to Groller – I won’t be able to do anything for him. “Rig! Feril! Fiona!” the dwarf bellowed. He heard his voice echo off the walls, paused and listened for a response. After several heartbeats the echos died. The dwarf sighed and fought to blot out the pain in his leg and chest.

  He wasn’t sure how long it took him to reach Groller, maybe several minutes, though it felt like hours. His chest burned from his fall and from the exertion.

  “Jaz-pear,” the half-ogre said when he felt the dwarf’s stubby fingers. “Jaz-pear all ride?”

  Jasper’s fingers found Groller’s hand. “No,” the dwarf coughed. “I’m not all right.” The dwarf grimaced. He coughed again and tasted blood in his mouth, a bad sign. Perhaps his good lung had been punctured as well.

  Groller peered through the darkness, making out the dwarf’s face. “Jaz-pear, fix by legs.”

  The dwarf shook his head. My faith isn’t so strong anymore, my friend, he said to himself. He knew the words were lost on Groller. I couldn’t heal Goldmoon. I couldn’t even heal myself after Dhamon struck me. The mystics at the Citadel couldn’t heal me either – my lack of faith prevented them. I can’t heal. We’ll have to wait for Rig.

  “Jaz-pear, fix,” Groller repeated. “Fix by legs.”

  The dwarf sighed and began to carefully prod Groller.

  “Feel dat,” the half-ogre said. “Hurts bad. Real bad. Dat. Feel dat.”

  Groller’s words stopped when the dwarf put pressure on his hips. Back’s broken, Jasper sadly noted. And several ribs. The half-ogre wouldn’t be leaving the cave. Even if Rig finds us, the dwarf thought, he’s not going to be able to get Groller out of here alive.

  The dwarf coughed again, feeling blood trickle over his bottom lip. “Rig might not get here in time anyway,” he whispered. “I think I’m dying. But I have the Fist. Rig and Palin need the Fist.”

  “Fix by legs,” Groller encouraged.

  Jasper closed his eyes. The dwarf had only a little energy left, and it was quickly dissipating. The fall had left him all but incapacitated. The blood felt thick in his mouth.

  “Code,” Groller whispered. “So code down here.” The half-ogre was shivering.

  “Concentrate,” Jasper admonished himself. “Not for me. For Groller. Reorx, Mishakal, please.” He tried to focus, as Goldmoon had taught him, reaching inside himself for the inner strength she claimed everyone possessed. She had taught him how to apply that strength, to call it up and channel it into healing magic and other mystical spells. He looked for it now. But he couldn’t find it. The energy was gone.

  “Jasper.” It was Goldmoon’s voice, the dwarf was certain of it.

  “Goldmoon?”

  “You must have faith.”

  The dwarf smiled weakly. Her voice was real – he hadn’t imagined hearing her. Just as she, no doubt had really been speaking to Riverwind for all those years when she stood by the window in the Citadel of Light and carried on what the dwarf had thought was a one-sided conversation. Goldmoon hadn’t realized anyone was listening to her. Probably anyone else would have considered her mad. But Jasper had listened and wondered.

  Maybe I’m the one who is mad now, he mused, to hear voices, to think I might be able to heal. But I have to try.

  “Have faith.”

  “Goldmoon.” He found it then, that tiny spark of inner strength buried deep inside him. It felt warm, and the more he concentrated on it, the brighter the spark glowed. “Faith,” he whispered. “Goldmoon, I must have faith again.”

  A wave of warmth radiated down his arms to his fingers. He placed his hands on the half-ogre’s waist, working around until he touched the small of his back. The warmth felt invigorating. His fingers traveled up to Groller’s chest, to his neck and down his arms.

  Jasper felt the half-ogre moving and used his hands to still him. “I’m not finished yet,” the dwarf said. His fingers found the gashes and bump on Groller’s head. He touched cuts and scrapes, raised spots where bruises were forming. Then his hands ranged down the half-ogre’s legs, which were twisted at odd angles.

  “Shouldn’t have followed me in the cave,” Jasper grunted. The heat from his hands radiated out, mending the broken bones.

  “Jaz-pear, you’re good healer,” Groller stated. “Feel by legs now. Can move now.”

  Jasper’s hands tried to hold the half-ogre down, but Groller was too strong, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

  “Jaz-pear, you’re hurd,” he observed.

  “Have faith,” Goldmoon’s spirit whispered.

  “Jaz-pear, fix y’zelf.”

  “I’m trying, my friend.” The dwarf continued to concentrate on the warmth, coaxing it to flow. “Trying.”

  “Faith,” Goldmoon repeated.

  The warmth lingered in his chest and in his leg, spreading to his own back and dancing along his ribs. He felt as if he was floating, growing stronger. And yet at the same time he knew he was becoming weaker, as the magic sapped the last bit of his physical strength. His leg and chest tingled. The sensation reminded him of his studies with Goldmoon, and previous occasions in which he had healed himself from minor tumbles.

  “Your faith is strong.”

  From nearby he heard Groller’s nasal words. “Jaz-pear, be bedder.” High above, he heard the soft squeals of bats, as he heard his heart beating stronger and heard Goldmoon’s voice drift to nothingness.

  “Tired,” he murmured, as the warmth receded, the spell ended, and the last of his energy was sapped.

  “Jaz-pear, you’re good healer,” Groller repeated.

  The dwarf felt himself being lifted. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “I can walk.” The dwarf’s fingers fluttered to the sack at his belt, as Groller shufled along, carrying him.

  Somehow the half-ogre found his way to a wall. Groller had looked around for the wolf, and found no trace. He wanted to know how Fury had gotten down here – no doubt it was an easier path than he had taken. Where had the wolf gone?

  Groller tucked Jasper under one arm, felt along the wall, and began to use the other arm to climb.

  Where were Rig and Feril, Fiona? Groller wondered. He’d sent the wolf to get them. Can’t wait for them, he decided. Can’t stay down here. Don’t want to stay down here. It stinks.

  Groller twisted his fingers and feet into cracks, steadied himself, and then reached up with his hand. The going was slow, but Groller was persistent. He slid a few times but made progres
s and eventually reached a support ledge.

  This one was narrower than the one he’d found when he was trying to climb down to Jasper. Groller inched his way along, wedging the fingers of his free hand into cracks here and there. Jasper tugged on the half-ogre’s tunic. They were near the opening through which the dwarf had fallen. Groller squinted in the darkness. Jasper patted his shoulder to let him know they had made it.

  Now came the hard part. The half-ogre was going to need both of his hands. He balanced himself carefully on the ledge. “Jaz-pear, hode tight,” he said. The dwarf snaked his arms around Groller’s neck. The half-ogre found another handhold.

  He climbed like a spider again, hanging from a rocky wall that tilted at a slant toward the opening. Groller’s fingers ached from the rocks, and from supporting the weight of the dwarf. He scrabbled for holds and swung his legs about desperately.

  The frantic movements upset the bats nearby. Their squeals filled the air. Groller couldn’t hear the bats, but he felt them. The air was stirred by their wings, and a few of them struck him with their movements.

  Finally Groller’s legs found a deep crack, and he was able to continue his climb. A few moments more, and the two were lying in the tunnel.

  Jasper was the first to move, but then Groller took the lead again, using his sore fingers to guide them along the passage. He spotted Fury ahead of him in the tunnel. The beast pawed at the ground and then whirled away. The wolf was apparently alone and had not brought Rig or Feril with him. Perhaps something had happened to them, Groller thought. The half-ogre hurried along, twisting his head to make sure Jasper was following.

  The passage coiled like a snake, just as he remembered, and he saw the wolf pawing at the ground again. Groller started to run. Fury turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

  Groller sped around an outcropping and into the mouth of the cave. It was dark. For a moment the half-ogre suspected he’d made a wrong turn and found a different chamber. But then his eyes saw gray patches.

  Jasper practically barreled into him, as the dwarf rounded the corner.

  “Several hours, at least.” Jasper recognized Feril’s voice. “I’m exhausted,” she said. “We’re stuck here until I can get my strength back – unless you can find another way out of this cave.”

  “It’s darker than night in here.” That was Rig’s voice. “Like a tomb.”

  Jasper heard other sounds, an odd clicking-clacking that came from beyond the chamber.

  “I wonder where Groller and Jasper are? They should have been back by now.”

  “We are back, Fiona,” Jasper said.

  “And just where have you two been?” Rig demanded. “We’ve been fighting spawn. They’re still out there. Feril sealed the cave off to keep’em from killing us.”

  “Whew! What’s that smell?” Fiona asked.

  “Uh, bat droppings,” Jasper answered.

  The dwarf tugged on Groller’s tunic, and the half-ogre followed him into the large chamber. Groller headed toward Feril and the wolf. Fury’s golden eyes greeted the half-ogre. Groller stared at them.

  “Bat droppings. You find bat droppings, and we find spawn,” Rig said. “Where were you?”

  “Exploring,” the dwarf said. Exploring this cave and myself, he silently added. Finding my faith. He took a deep breath and walked toward Rig. His lungs felt healed – both of them – and his faith was restored. A smile spread wide across his face. “Groller and I just did a little exploring.”

  Chapter 14

  SUNKEN SHIPS

  “I’ve been exploring the possibilities surrounding Takhisis’s return,” Palin said. “Something... bothers me.” The anxiety in his voice was evident as he stared into the water-filled crystal bowl. Gilthanas’s face stared back at him through the widening ripples.

  “Bothers you more than the dragon goddess coming back?”

  “No,” Palin said with a laugh. “There is little worse that could befall Krynn. It is where she will return that is bothering me. If we guess wrong —”

  “No one will be there to stop her,” Gilthanas finished. “If we guess right, we might not have the power to stop her anyway.”

  “But we must guess right if we are to have the slightest chance.”

  “Agreed. What are the options?” The elf’s voice sounded soft and hollow.

  Palin steepled his fingers. The lines on his face were noticeably deeper, especially around his eyes, as if he had aged in the past few weeks. He released a long sigh. “The Master is confident Takhisis will appear somewhere near the Window to the Stars. It is an ancient place in Khur.”

  “I have heard of it.”

  “The Master says all his divinations point to that area, and yet...”

  “And yet?” Gilthanas asked finally.

  “The Shadow Sorcerer is adamant that the site will be Ariakan’s Rest. There is wisdom in his words as well. It is a mystic place for the Knights of Takhisis.”

  “Takhisis appeared there before,” Gilthanas said.

  Palin nodded. “My associates refuse to come to an agreement. Neither will consider the other’s position. They have almost come to blows over the matter.”

  “Our forces are too small to split up,” the elf said.

  “And the two places are far apart.”

  “Are you alone?”

  Palin nodded.

  “Then tell me, whose counsel do you trust more? Perhaps that should make the decision.”

  Palin shook his head, shrugging his stooped shoulders. “I don’t know.” The Master was the personification of the Tower of Wayreth, he thought, and the embodiment of high sorcery in the form of a man. He could wear the face of any sorcerer he chose. The Shadow Sorcerer was wrapped in mystery, as well. Perhaps he was a man, perhaps a woman. Palin had come to rely on both mages heavily during the past several years. But he did not trust one above the other.

  “How can I help?” asked Gilthanas.

  “You’ve got magic on your side,” Palin began, “and a dragon. If Silvara is willing, the two of you could explore the area around the Window after you’ve taken Usha and Blister to the coast, to Ak-Khurman. Check for signs and see if you notice anything unusual.”

  “Khur’s a big country. It will take time.”

  “It will take the others time to obtain the crown. With the Shadow Sorcerer’s help, the Master was finally able to contact Feril and Rig. It took some doing. They had sealed themselves in a cave, several miles away, to avoid dozens of spawn. The Master told them you found Dhamon, and they decided to head to Ak-Khurman.”

  Palin sighed. “And I cannot risk destroying any more of the arcane items here to power a spell to send them to Ak-Khurman.”

  “In Ak-Khurman —” Gilthanas began.

  “Feril and the others will meet Blister and Usha there. Then they’ll all head to Dimernesti. Usha has plenty of steel with her to rent a ship.”

  “And Dhamon...?”

  “What of him?” asked Palin.

  Gilthanas let the question hang in the air. Quickly he explained how the mysterious shadow dragon and Silvara had broken Dhamon’s link with Malys, and how the former Knight of Takhisis no longer appeared to be a threat.

  “Do you trust Dhamon?” the sorcerer asked in a cracked voice.

  “I trust Silvara.”

  Palin cocked his head. “If there is no threat, he could be helpful. Still...”

  “Your wife and Blister are capable and, I believe, safe in his company. But I’ll take the glaive away from Dhamon to be sure. He’s different, Palin, changed. But I suppose anyone would be after what he went through. Silvara claims he is completely out from under the red dragon’s control. And, as I said, I do trust Silvara.”

  “Then he can accompany Usha and Blister.” Palin seemed to relax a little. “We will deal with the matter of Goldmoon’s death later. Be careful on your journey, my friend. The wilds of Khur are dangerous.”

  “I have learned to be careful. And you?”

  “I will go
to Ariakan’s Rest.”

  “What signs should we look for?”

  Palin pursed his lips. “Dragons gathering,” he answered finally. “Wherever Takhisis intends to arrive, there will be other dragons and their minions. And there will be Knights of Takhisis.”

  *

  “Look, there’s some more knights!” Blister waggled her gnarled fingers toward the marketplace, indicating a trio of Legion of Steel knights who were questioning a merchant.

  “Keep your voice down,” Dhamon urged. He drew Usha and Blister under an awning. “We don’t want to raise their suspicions. We’ve done nothing wrong, nothing to cause them to bother us,” he whispered. “In fact, they might be able to help us. But just in case...”

  The knights moved on to another merchant and his shoppers, one stall closer.

  “Let’s get to the harbor by another route, shall we? Just in case,” Usha suggested. “The Legion of Steel is honorable. It has protected the people in this town. But —”

  “Just in case,” Blister finished.

  The trio ducked around a corner and followed the dusty streets that wound between homes and scattered businesses. The buildings were large, some three stories tall, and made of stone with tiled roofs. Wood seemed to be scarce; even building signs and shutters were made of slate. A new home was being built on a narrow lot between two older structures. Since they’d arrived at Ak-Khurman, they’d noticed several new constructions.

  “Doesn’t seem to be that many people,” Blister said. “Certainly not for all these buildings.”

  “Anticipation,” Usha said. “This is one of the largest cities in Khur, and it’s the only one with a safe port.”

  “So they figure more people will move here?” the kender asked.

  Usha nodded. “Khur barbarians loyal to Neraka are driving people from the plains. The people have nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe.”

  “And I thought the dragons were the only ones who did nasty things like that. Hey, Dhamon, when you were... you know... working for Malystryx, did she make you do nasty things?”