An hour of steady riding brought the travelers to a low rise. As they topped it, they could see the red tower of Marcus in the distance, huge stormclouds swirling around it. Marcus had laid out the welcome mat in the form of a cyclone of pure fire, nearly as tall as the tower. It was speeding up the hill toward Evaine and the others.
Miltiades spoke up. “Fire elemental! The rest of you ride back down the hill the way we came. I can take care of this beast. It’ll do less harm to my fleshless body.” The paladin was gripping his sword, maneuvering his horse for a charge.
“You’ll do no such thing!” Evaine called out. “Your idea is noble, but suicidal. The only way we’re going to win this battle is to stick together and fight. We can’t let Marcus’s pets kill us one by one.”
Now it was Andoralson’s turn. “That stormcloud will aid us. Prepare yourselves to fight, but don’t do anything until we see if this spell has any effect.”
The druid began to chant, crushing berries of mistletoe in his palm. Thunder and lightning crashed overhead as the eighty-foot wall of flame sped toward the top of the hill. In moments, the skies had opened and torrents of rain were pouring forth, flooding the hillside. An unearthly cloud of steam arose around the creature. As Andoralson continued to chant, a bolt of lightning leaped from the sky and blasted the cone of flame. The monster wavered, but still came up the hill. Three more bolts of lightning struck it. The writhing blaze shrank to the size of a small hut. As the rain swept down, the creature drowned in the waters the druid had summoned. The last tongue of flame was extinguished only thirty feet from the hilltop.
Ren cheered as the creature dissolved into the mud. The companions waited under the trees for the rain to end. Evaine took advantage of the pause to cast a spell rendering them all invisible, then the group began the trek down the hill.
As the five approached the tower, Evaine announced her observation that the structure appeared to have no doors. But four paths worn through the grass betrayed the possible locations of the entrances. Even as a human, Gamaliel’s sensitive nose was able to choose a path tainted with the scents of men and monsters. A simple spell revealed the tall, golden doors Marcus had concealed. Evaine went to work on opening the magically locked entry.
Three times the door glowed green, but three times the door refused to yield. Ren fished out his lockpicking tools and busied himself with the lock, but the mechanism refused to budge.
“I’ve got one more spell I can try,” Evaine suggested.
Ren scowled at the door, then looked at the others. “Save your energy, Evaine. We’re going to need it later. Everybody stand back. I’ve got an idea.”
The ranger mounted Stolen and rode back up the path. After perhaps fifty yards, he turned and ordered the war-horse into a charge straight for the tower. As the beast neared the portal, it reared up on massive haunches and pounded down on the door with powerful forehooves.
The door shuddered and fell inward with a splintering crash, crushing the four mercenary guards who were posted behind the door.
Still invisible, Miltiades took the lead with Ren. Ahead, a long corridor filled with skeletal troops stretched onward, ending with another door. A stench like that of an ancient, moldering tomb nearly overpowered them, but the two warriors spurred their mounts into the massed defenders, hacking and slaying as they pressed on. Bony hands and rusty blades bounced off Miltiades and his magical horse, Stolen’s magical barding and Ren’s chain mail. Dozens of blows landed on the powerful fighters, but none caused so much as a scratch.
The hundred or so skeletons, the weakest of Marcus’s guards, were quick work for the ranger and paladin. Stolen and the ivory steed kicked and trampled as they went, crushing bone with every hoof.
The warriors’ attacks caused their invisibility to fade, but the spell had served long enough to get the group into the tower. Evaine, Gamaliel, Andoralson, and their horses were still invisible, however, although the two warriors had no trouble knowing where they were. Loud crunching and snapping under the horses’ hooves announced their presence as they picked their way over heaps of shattered bones and skulls.
Evaine stepped up to the door. Instantly it glowed green. “It’s not locked,” she whispered. “There’s a huge chamber on the other side. I don’t detect any movement, but there might be creatures hiding within.”
Ren and Miltiades pushed the doors open, spurring their horses forward. The three companions followed closely. All stopped short at the appearance of a fifteen-foot-tall wizard in red robes glaring down at them.
A scraping voice boomed out of the stale air. “Finally you’ve come! Too bad my guards weren’t nearly enough of a challenge for you. Let me see—how would you like to battle a—”
“Sanddunarum!” Evaine shrieked. A jade mist arose from her hand and swirled about the giant wizard. The image warped and shifted, then shattered into millions of emerald facets. Ren and the others ducked, but when they looked up, no pieces of the wizard could be seen anywhere.
“Gods be damned!” the real Marcus screamed in frustration at the destruction of his magical trap. All heads turned to see a red-robed mage hidden in an alcove at the rear of the chamber. “Well, brave heroes,” he taunted, “join me upstairs—if you dare!” The wizard lifted off the floor and flew up a side stairway. The sound of his evil laughter drifted down in his wake, echoing in the chamber.
All along the sides of the room, portions of the golden stone walls shimmered and dissolved. Twelve alcoves were revealed behind the illusionary walls. Masses of zombies and skeletons poured forth from their hidden niches.
Undaunted, Miltiades charged forward on his ivory steed, swinging and crashing through the undead swarm. An unearthly clattering of blades against bones echoed in the stone chamber. Andoralson cast powerful spells against the walking dead, causing waves of the creatures to wither before him. As the first wave fell, the druid became visible again.
Ren turned Stolen to follow Marcus up the stairs, but Evaine shouted a warning to the ranger. “The pool is hidden underground! If we go up, we’re probably walking into the wizard’s traps. Ignore him for now. If we destroy the pool, we may destroy him with it.” Leaping off her horse, she canceled the spell concealing her mount so the ranger could find her, but remained invisible herself.
Ren hated leaving enemies at his back, but the druid and paladin were efficiently mowing down the undead horde. Bodies were stacking up and clogging the room. He nodded, then took the lead down another set of stairs. The crashing of swords, screams of the wounded, chanting of the druid, and Miltiades’s war song reverberated behind them.
The spiraling steps were wide and deep, perfect for fighting, Ren noted. Two complete spirals brought him to a new challenge.
A huge, scaly creature stood blocking his way. The beast was humanoid in shape, but bore the head of a lizard. The sickly green face hissed at them with a forked tongue as it swung a trident taller than Ren.
“Puny human, I am resistant to magic and weapons! I cannot be defeated in battle! Choose your fate—die fighting, or bow and serve me!” The creature stamped the butt of the trident on the cold floor.
Ren stopped short. He gripped his sword, hesitating, deciding his next move. Then a hot green streak blew past his ear. A blinding flash struck the lizard-creature, melting it into a puddle of smoking green ooze and scales. Evaine materialized behind Ren, grinning.
“The dumb beast thought you were alone. Monsters are like traveling peddlers, ranger—their talk is always better than their merchandise. C’mon. Let’s keep going.” The sorceress darted around the stunned warrior, sprinting down the stairs.
Completing another spiral, they met a second lizard-creature who spouted the same speech. Evaine yawned. Ren raised his sword, but as the beast finished its words, the monster hurtled over backward, smashing to the floor. Gamaliel materialized on top of the thrashing beast, his great jaws wrapped about its neck. A spurt of greenish black blood spewed forth, then the monster’s writhing ceased.
>
Gamaliel looked up proudly and communicated to his mistress. I converted to a cat while the clod was babbling about his power. Pthew, this one tastes bad. The feline shook his head and turned down the stairs. A few steps down, the stair opened into an archway leading to a darkened chamber.
This is it, mistress, the cat told Evaine. The pool is right in the center. I can see its noxious glow.
Evaine reached into a pouch and drew out some brightly glowing coins. She blindly hurled them as hard as she could toward what she guessed were the four corners of the room. As the discs clinked to the floor, the chamber was filled with light. Ahead, in the dank stone cellar, lay the pool of darkness.
Evaine and Ren tiptoed forward. Gamaliel silently stalked up to the pool and hissed.
“It’s the same shape as I remember,” Ren noted, “that odd, jagged crescent. But ten years ago, it was filled with clear water. Yecch—I don’t even want to know what that vile goop is.”
Ren warily circled the crescent to examine it. The lights of the room revealed an oily, glistening fluid that seemed to recoil from the light. “See those little indentations around the rim? When I last saw the pool, it had magical ioun stones inlaid in those holes. Now, they’re just filled with that same foul liquid.” The ranger sighed as he thought of Shal, Tarl, and himself fighting dozens of battles to kill hundreds of monsters all over Phlan. He desperately wished his friends were with him now. He would have been happy just to know they were still alive.
Evaine was already unloading a backpack. “I need five uninterrupted minutes to weave my spell and destroy the pool. Make sure I’m not disturbed.” She set out the magical brazier Miltiades had provided and held her breath as she lifted the cap. If the flame lit, it might hasten the spell and buy some time. For a few seconds, the brazier was still. Then a poof sounded, and the flame sprang forth. The sorceress arranged a half-dozen vials of strange liquids in front of her.
Before Ren could warn her that he might not be able to protect her during a lengthy spell, she was lost in concentration, kneeling before the viscous waters of the pool.
With little else to do, the ranger scanned the walls for possible hidden entrances. Gamaliel sniffed out the perimeter of the chamber, but neither found any hint of secret passages. Eventually Ren took up a post out of sight of the entry, clutching five of his throwing daggers. Gamaliel stood guard on the opposite side of the archway.
Evaine had been deep in concentration for nearly two minutes when the echo of running steps was heard on the stairs. Weapons and claws ready, Ren and Gamaliel were relieved to see Miltiades and Andoralson burst into the room. They were quickly cautioned against making noise.
“You weren’t planning on having this party without us, were you?” the druid whispered. Miltiades used the moments of quiet to activate his scroll of fire protection.
“There’ll be plenty of party favors to go around soon enough. Evaine is casting the spell to destroy this pool, but she needs a few more minutes. We have to buy her that time.” Ren glanced around the chamber nervously.
“Too late,” echoed a scraping voice. The red-robed Marcus appeared on the opposite side of the pool in a swirling crimson mist. “She won’t be destroying anything today except herself.” He lifted a hand and sent a spray of deep red motes of light at the three men. The energy sizzled in the chamber and bathed the room in an eerie light as it raced toward them with deadly speed.
Ren and Gamaliel sprang toward Evaine to block the blast, but Andoralson waved his hand and diverted the energy into the dark pool. The mystical waters gurgled and absorbed the awesome power of the tiny meteors without apparent effect.
Miltiades stalked toward Marcus, humming a chant of praise to Tyr.
The Red Wizard cackled, underestimating the power of the group that challenged him. He lobbed a searing fireball and a scarlet tangle of sticky webs at the undead paladin. The warrior walked easily through the flames and slashed through the webs with his sword. Then the wizard conjured a sixteen-foot snake that slithered toward Miltiades. Before the warrior could dodge, the serpent wrapped its red coils around the paladin from head to foot.
Andoralson conjured a jet of ice pellets that streaked over the pool toward Marcus, but as the sleet approached the wizard, it was diverted toward the ceiling where it froze solid into a fringe of icicles.
One by one, Ren hurled his daggers at the evil wizard. Each of the blades hurtled directly toward Marcus’s heart, but then bounced off an invisible barrier and clattered to the floor. The Red Wizard cackled. “Put away your playthings, boys. You’ll be mine before long.” Ren swore at the crazed mage.
Andoralson and Marcus continued lobbing spells at one another. Fire, lightning, ice, mud, rocks, insects, and steam were all exchanged over the fetid pool, but all were rendered harmless by spells of defense. Rocks and mud splattered against the far walls. Lightning bolts tore chunks out of the stone. Debris began stacking up on both sides of the pool.
Gamaliel held his ground in front of Evaine, his eyes wide, claws extended. She needed less than two minutes to finish the spell. Already, the edges of the inky pool were beginning to boil in a white froth.
Ren suspected the rest of his ordinary daggers would be repelled by Marcus’s magic. It was time to change tactics. From his boot he drew Right, one of his two specially enchanted daggers. As the silver blade streaked toward the Red Wizard, Marcus tossed five miniature hands carved of stone over the pool toward Ren’s feet.
The evil wizard ignored Ren’s dagger, expecting it to bounce off his magical shields. But the weapon pierced the barriers to bury itself in the wizard’s lung.
Marcus crumpled to the floor with a howl. Blood oozed from his chest. Struggling to breathe, he summoned something black into his hand, gripping it tightly.
Gamaliel pounced on the stone hands, swatting two of them into the pool, but the three that remained melded with the floor and grew into hands of black marble, each larger than a bear. Ren and Gamaliel were suddenly grasped by their throats and pulled to the floor by the giant hands. The life was being choked out of them. No amount of scratching, clawing, or wrestling could loosen the stony grips.
The monstrous red snake still surrounded Miltiades. The paladin was no longer visible.
A black marble hand was wrapped around Evaine’s throat, pinning her to the floor and choking her. The pool of darkness boiled and frothed, emitting the foul odor of sulfur, but it was unclear whether the sorceress had finished her spell.
Andoralson stood helplessly staring at his friends. Then a tremendous thud echoed behind him. He whirled around to face the archway leading to the stairs.
“Latenat!” a gravelly voice bellowed. Before the druid’s eyes, an enormous black-winged creature was beginning to materialize.
Light From Darkness
Andoralson choked as the enormous pit fiend materialized in front of him. Leathery flesh, huge batlike wings, and talons longer than the druid’s hand stood between him and the stairway. The creature’s eyes blazed a deathly red. The stench of old blood quickly filled the chamber, but the beast surprised the druid by ignoring him. Instead the fiend strode around him to the opposite side of the pool where Marcus lay bleeding. The snarl that arose from the fiend shook the walls and sloshed the foul waters of the pool.
“I had them, you idiot! The people of Phlan were ready to follow me out of the city straight to this pool! How could you be so foolish as to summon me? Latenat!” the fiend roared.
A trickle of blood escaped from one corner of the wizard’s mouth as he wheezed and struggled for enough air to argue. “I’m dying! Quit your ranting and save me!”
“You have a punctured lung. You’re not dying, fool. Latenat! Argh!” The fiend hissed as he grasped the dagger to pull it from Marcus’s chest. Its touch seared the fiend’s tough hide. Tanetal wrapped the wizard’s cloak around the hilt and pulled.
Ignored by Marcus and the fiend, Andoralson seized the opportunity and ran to Evaine’s side. She was still pi
nned by the hand, her throat bruised and swollen. Not knowing whether his spell would work, the druid took a chance and directed a swirl of blue energy around the stone fist. In seconds, the rock dissolved into a puddle of mud. The sorceress rolled over, coughing and choking, trying to clear the mud from her face.
SMASH! An ear-splitting shatter erupted next to the druid and wizard. They saw Miltiades, white bones dripping in blood, bashing away at the hand that gripped Ren.
“We thought you were a goner!” Andoralson gasped.
“Not a chance!” the paladin answered without ceasing his swings. “I don’t breathe, so I cannot suffocate. These bones are sharp. It was just a matter of time before I sliced my way out of the snake.” Another blow shattered the giant hand and released Ren. Miltiades immediately set to work to free Gamaliel.
But the bashing had also caught the attention of the pit fiend. He looked up to see a strange skeletal warrior smashing the black marble hands with the hilt of his sword. His work had released a human and an enormous cat from the marble traps. “What has been happening here? Latenat!” he bellowed at Marcus. The wizard could only gurgle in pain.
Tanetal concentrated for a moment, then breathed wisps of evil blackness into the wizard’s wound. It wouldn’t heal the damage, but it would numb the pain and stop the bleeding for several hours. Marcus instantly regained the strength to shout orders. “Listen, you fool! Do you hear that clamor? Phlan’s people are preparing to escape the cavern. Dispose of these weaklings before they spoil everything! They must be dead before my souls find their way to this pool!”
The wizard rose to his knees. “Kill them all now! They’ve dared to hurt me, and they must all die. They’ve tampered with my magical pool! You take care of the men. I’ll crush the woman and that wretched beast!”
The companions had survived Marcus’s last wave of spells, but now, in their weakened state, they faced the pit fiend in addition to the crazed wizard. And Phlan’s citizens would soon be in danger.
Pools of Darkness Page 26
