Still coughing, Evaine rolled to Gamaliel’s side and forced a healing potion down the cat’s throat. He was healthy enough to stand, but had been weakened terribly by the stone hand.
Andoralson launched the first attack. A storm of tiny, white-hot meteors streaked toward Marcus and the fiend.
Marcus clambered to his feet. “Your spells are nothing to me, weakling.” He raised both hands and began to chant.
Tanetal stood his ground, expecting to be unharmed by the magic. Yet he was knocked to the floor with a loud thud. An unearthly shriek rattled the chamber as the hot meteors melted into the fiend’s leathery hide. The beast hauled himself to his feet, snarling at his enemies, but the look on his face betrayed surprise.
Ren and Miltiades charged the fiend, whacking and slashing with determination. Their blades sang as they landed on the seven-foot monster. The paladin’s shimmering weapon bit deeply into the shoulder of the fiend, releasing a spray of black ooze. Ren’s huge sword found its mark but shattered to pieces, rattling across the floor. The ranger pulled Left from his boot without missing a swing. Both men attacked relentlessly to prevent the fiend from using its magic.
When Marcus completed his spell, a cherry-red beam found Evaine, but the magic sizzled harmlessly against her green sphere of protection magic. With Gamaliel in good health, Evaine struggled to her feet, directing her energy at Marcus.
“Wizard, you’ve blasted me one time too many!” She raised her staff and released a frigid spiral of ice and snow at Marcus.
Her magic was partially negated by the red protections around Marcus, but the cold still harmed him. It ruined the spell he was summoning and slowed him with numbness. Evaine took advantage of his condition, raising her staff again.
A ball of fire, hot as the sun but tinted the cool green of the sea, streaked toward the Red Wizard. Evaine stepped closer to her enemy. Gamaliel slinked along the edge of the wall, so stealthily that he was unnoticed.
Marcus stood his ground, unharmed by the extreme heat. Instead, his bones were warmed by the blast of fire, and he was able to move normally again. Evaine sighed at this unexpected result. Gritting her teeth, she prepared another spell. A greenish white spiral of ice streamed from her hand.
The force knocked Marcus backward into the wall, spoiling another of his spells. He raised a magical golden rod as Evaine neared. “You’ve caused us enough trouble for one lifetime!” she cried. “This is the end of you!”
Marcus gaped foolishly at the sorceress. He tried to conjure one last spell of protection against her magic. Nearby, Gamaliel’s back feet dug in with his claws, then his haunches twitched.
Before Marcus knew what hit him, two hundred pounds of cat landed squarely on his head, snapping his neck. Marcus slumped to the floor with a sickening crunch, his head tilted at a ghastly angle.
Ren, Miltiades, and Andoralson, still battling the pit fiend, were spurred on by the destruction of Marcus. But the wizard’s death had a sudden, unexpected effect on the beast.
With a horrendous roar, the monster drew itself to its full height. “Free! Oh, the power! I’m free at last!” the fiend bellowed. Its skin turned even blacker as the monster reveled in its release from the Red Wizard. It ignored the attackers who still danced and weaved around it.
Miltiades used the chance to chop at the monster’s leg. Ren retrieved Right from the floor where the fiend had dropped it, then slashed away with both daggers. The deep cuts burned into Tanetal’s black hide. The fiend roared an unintelligible command, lashing out with both clawed fists.
One arm swung wildly, but the other found its mark. Ren took the blow full force in the stomach, hurtled through the air, and crashed against the stone wall. The ranger slid to the floor accompanied by the dreadful snap of breaking bones. Without enough breath to scream in pain, the warrior clamped his left hand on his right forearm. Blood streamed freely from a puncture made by the broken bone that now stuck out of his skin. Ribs were shattered, and his right leg rested limply on the stone, bent nearly backward.
None of the companions could come to his aid. The pit fiend thrashed at them, though in its rage it had moved dangerously close to the pool.
A clatter on the stairs announced the approach of yet another enemy. A grating voice broke through the clamor of combat. “My troops have been slaughtered, and you have the gall to summon me! I won’t stand for this any longer, foolish human! You have—”
An irate Brittle rattled around the corner, ranting and hissing. He stopped short as he observed the battle that raged before him.
“Fiend! Is Marcus really dead?”
A roar from the fiend cut his question short. Brittle quickly raised his sword as Miltiades charged forward to face him.
The two skeletal warriors stared at each other for less than a second, then nodded silently in an unspoken greeting of honor. In the next instant, blades flashed and crunched as the two became a whirl of steel and bone.
Evaine and Andoralson directed their most powerful spells at the fiend. Swirls and sparks of green and blue energy illuminated the chamber in an eerie glow. The beast laughed off nearly half the magical attacks. Gamaliel circled around behind the monster, poised himself for a leap, then sailed through the air to land on black wings. Four paws, claws extended, raked and gouged mercilessly.
Andoralson cast an illusion, duplicating himself ten times. The real druid was lost among his images. All eleven conjured illusionary monsters, directing them at Tanetal, but the fiend merely waved them away with his hand. In moments, the druid stood alone. Nearing exhaustion, Andoralson gasped for breath as he raised his hands to cast another spell.
Ren lay slumped against the wall. He struggled to reach a healing potion in his pocket, lifting it to his lips. The blood that poured from his arm and trickled from his chest gradually slowed and stopped. The ranger’s bones were still broken, yet his life no longer drained away. Yet he was helpless to do anything.
Brittle and Miltiades continued their deadly dance, matching each other blow for blow, parry for parry. Swords sang and crunched as the pair’s exquisite but horrifying choreography led them around the chamber.
Evaine never ceased directing jets, clouds, and streams of emerald energy at the enormous black beast. Nearly half her spells fizzled uselessly away, and no matter how the monster was harmed, its injuries gradually healed within minutes. Evaine racked her brain for some inspiration, but she had little time to think amid her furious spellcasting.
Gamaliel still clung to the fiend’s back. Black ichor flowed down the monster’s muscled form, puddling at its feet. A stench like stagnant water accompanied the blood.
The skeletons continued their duel. Every few seconds, a sword found its mark and a shard of bone chipped off to sail across the chamber. The two were so embroiled that both were virtually oblivious to their surroundings.
Evaine had nearly completed another spell when she noticed the paladin’s danger. By the time she dispatched her magical energy, it was too late even to shout a warning. Both skeletal warriors had stumbled dangerously close to the pool, bobbing, weaving, and dodging. And then it was over. Evaine watched as the pair teetered for a moment, then tumbled into the pool of darkness with a syrupy splash.
The inky fluid bubbled and boiled as the magical water tried to drain the souls of those who battled within. Every few moments, a bony hand or glinting sword tip broke the surface of the vile water, but there was no way to know which warrior had the advantage. It was only clear that the two skeletons battled for their souls. Occasional syrupy blobs splashed over the rim and sizzled on the stone floor, only to ooze back to the pool by sliding up over the edge.
At last a skeletal hand reached out of the pool, gripping the side. Then a second hand grasped the edge, and a bony form began to pull itself out of the murk. Evaine’s heart sank as she realized that it wasn’t Miltiades, but Brittle. The enemy warrior struggled to haul himself up. But another bony hand reached up and yanked the evil creature back into the pool. M
iltiades still lived—but for how long?
The pit fiend laughed in delight. A minute globe of darkest night formed at the tips of the fiend’s talons, then slowly drifted toward the druid. In the globe’s writhing mists, Andoralson saw his worst nightmares come to life but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the evil images.
“No!” he shrieked, toppling to the ground. The druid kicked and struggled, screaming and gibbering at nightmares invading his mind.
Now the fiend reached behind him and plucked the clawing Gamaliel from his back. The giant cat hissed and snarled, gold eyes ablaze, but the fiend tossed him aside like a toy. The feline tried to right himself as he sailed through the air, but landed on the stone with a sickening thump.
Tanetal took a step toward Evaine. “We meet at last, little soul. I desired to meet you ever since I felt your presence in my chamber. The fires of your magic burn oh so brightly. I look forward to tasting your life force. Latenat!”
The beast took another step. Evaine launched her poisoned dragon darts at the creature, while Ren hurled his own dart with his left hand. All of them found their target but bounced off the monster’s filthy hide, clattering to the floor.
The ranger summoned enough strength to fire Left at the pit fiend. The blade struck and seared into Tanetal’s dripping wounds. The beast bellowed in pain, but lumbered closer to the sorceress.
In desperation the wizard launched two more green blasts at the fiend. The first spell merely charred its black wings, while the second fizzled away. The monster’s dry chuckle drove her to a fury she had never known.
Evaine tried to get away, but the creature pursued, half-galloping, half-flying. Before she could cast a spell to hide herself, a giant scaly hand had wrapped about her waist. The beast picked her up as if she were a doll. The scent of blood and ichor hung thickly around the creature. It slobbered in delight as it examined the sorceress, contemplating what to do with its new prize. Then the fiend spoke in surprise and curiosity.
“Sweet child, your soul is powerful and old. What have you done to reach this extraordinary age?” The monster gazed at her with new respect, grinning as it realized she was more valuable than it had anticipated.
Evaine struggled in the fiend’s grasp, but could do nothing. The fiend’s grip was so tight she was forced to gasp for breath.
Looking about, the sorceress saw no help in sight. Andoralson still thrashed and screamed, tortured by his own nightmares. Gamaliel lay unmoving, and Ren could only drag himself across the floor toward the giant cat. Miltiades was trapped in the pool, if indeed he still lived at all.
Evaine screamed as the fiend’s dark mind probed her own. It was trying to examine her soul and learn her secrets. The sorceress fought the probe, knowing the fiend’s curiosity might serve to buy her time.
A clatter on the stairs crushed her hopes for finding a way out of this disaster. What new enemy or minion approached?
A bright blue light shimmered down the stairs. Within seconds, Evaine saw that the glow came from a gigantic warhammer held aloft by a blond man charging into the fray. On his heels was a red-haired woman in a flowing purple gown.
“Start singing your funeral march, bard!” the man shouted. He swung the hammer high overhead, releasing it toward the fiend. The blue radiance sailed cleanly through the air, thunking squarely into the fiend’s chest.
The monster roared, dropping Evaine to the ground. Breathless, she crawled away quickly. Andoralson suddenly quit shrieking and thrashing.
The woman in purple began launching streams of violet energy at the beast. The blue glow of the hammer reduced the fiend’s natural resistance, allowing the spells to tear into the monster.
Tanetal roared and bellowed as he faced his new attackers. He charged the blond cleric, swiping with his claws.
From his corner, Ren tried to shout a warning. “Tarl! Shal! Look out for—” But the ranger was too weak. The words evaporated as he coughed and wheezed behind his broken ribs.
The purple wizard launched one more spell. But as the energy left her fingertips, she collapsed to the floor with a loud moan.
Tarl called the hammer back to his hand and began swinging at the fiend. The hammer bounced off the creature, sizzling as it struck the horny skin. But the fiend was barely slowed. It swiped with deadly talons, ripping four gashes into Tarl’s arm.
Evaine lay on the stone, panting. She struggled to clear her mind from the monster’s probe. There had to be a way to defeat this beast, but what was it? Why couldn’t she grasp the answer?
Tarl shrieked as the fiend gripped him about the waist and lifted him off the ground.
“Not so fast, creature of darkness!” A deep voice shouted a warning to the pit fiend. A dripping Miltiades had crawled out of the murky liquid in the pool of darkness. Brittle was nowhere to be seen. As the beast turned to its new challenger, a skeletal hand splashed syrupy foam into its eyes.
Dropping Tarl to the hard stone, the monster clawed at its face, then turned to the paladin, laughing. “Again you challenge me? Foolish creature! Come to me so I can swat you down like the pest you are! Look at your friends, all helpless! Let me squash you now so I can savor you with the rest of my prizes! Latenat!”
The paladin gritted his teeth and raised his sword. He stepped forward in determination.
Tarl regained his breath and clambered to his feet.
The pit fiend roared, rattling the entire chamber. Drawing itself to full height, the beast focused its gaze on Evaine. A low humming emanated from its throat. Twin beams of icy blackness shot from the fiend’s eyes, engulfing the sorceress. Evaine thrashed and struggled to escape the beams, but she was trapped in the field of evil magic.
Her screams pierced the chamber. Tarl threw the Warhammer of Tyr at the fiend, but the monster barely twitched. Miltiades chopped at the beast, but his blade barely scratched its leathery hide. Evaine was losing the struggle. In the seconds since the magic had overtaken her, her hair became shot with gray and she appeared to age ten years. Her friends watched in horror, powerless to help her.
Andoralson struggled to his feet. “In the name of Sylvanus! Release her, beast from the pit!” The druid threw himself between Evaine and the fiend. The beam of evil magic washed over the druid, engulfing him.
Evaine slumped to the floor. The others stood by as Andoralson aged before their eyes. His hair turned white and deep lines etched his face.
Evaine sat up abruptly to stare at the seemingly invulnerable monster that towered over her companions. The words of the succubus echoed in her ears—something about the creature’s name. She had mentioned the first part of a clue, but what was the second part?
Evaine clambered to her feet, shouting at the pit fiend. “Tanetal, creature from the pits of the Nine Hells, I command you in the name of all the true gods to return from whence you came! Tanetal, creature of darkness, I strip you of all powers on this plane! Tanetal, surrender your hold over others of this world and return to your dark abode!”
The pit fiend blinked, and the beams disappeared from its eyes. Andoralson lay twitching on the stone floor. Tanetal stood staring at the sorceress. Wisps of smoke floated up from the stone around it.
Miltiades and Tarl backed slowly away from the fiend, weapons still raised. The smoke rose thickly, engulfing the monster. Tanetal stood helplessly staring at his destroyer. “No! You cannot send me back! I have powers, great powers! I—you—you may command me! Call me back and I will serve you humbly! We will grow strong with the powers of the pool! You do not know the power—”
The fiend’s words were lost as a whorl of smoke engulfed it and the stone beneath its feet opened. The once-powerful beast was captured in a supernatural vortex, sucked into a plane of darkness. With a deafening rumble, the chamber shook, the stone floor closed, then all was silent. A final wisp of sulfurous vapor drifted to the ceiling.
The only sound in the chamber was the panting of the exhausted companions.
Andoralson lay silently on the stone.
His hair had turned a ghastly white, and his skin was drawn and livid. Tarl ran to his aid, but too late. No sign of life was left in the druid.
Tarl bowed his head and began a prayer to Tyr.
“Sylvanus,” Miltiades called. “He worshiped Sylvanus.”
Tarl nodded and prayed. “He died nobly. His god will have favor on him,” he said after a time. The cleric lay his cloak over Andoralson’s body.
Ren and Tarl finally looked up and stared at each other for a moment, then simultaneously voiced the same question. “Where on Toril did you come from?” The two chuckled, then immediately Tarl ran to speak prayers of healing to mend his friend’s broken bones. As Ren’s strength returned, he briefly told Tarl of the past months he had spent searching for Phlan.
Evaine bolted to Gamaliel’s side and knelt on the floor. She lifted his great head and cradled him in her lap. The cat whined faintly—he was badly wounded, but would survive. Ren had administered the healing potion in time to save the feline. Tears streamed down the wizard’s face as she realized how close she had come to losing her beloved companion. All the magic in the world would not have brought him back.
Miltiades, still dripping with the murk of the pool, gently approached Shal. “Do not be frightened of me, miss,” he began. “May a warrior of Tyr offer assistance?” He knelt and offered a bony hand.
Shal looked up, the agony in her face masking her shock at his skeletal appearance. “Tarl,” she whispered hoarsely. “The baby. It’s time.”
As Miltiades relayed the message, Tarl helped Ren to his feet and the pair staggered to Shal’s side. Evaine stuffed a cloak under the cat’s head and joined the cleric.
Tarl held Shal’s hand and helped her stretch out on the floor. Evaine immediately called orders to Miltiades to gather cloaks, blankets, and her traveling pack. Gamaliel mustered the strength to creep over to Shal and lie next to her to keep her warm.
Pools of Darkness Page 27
