by Kate Novak
The evil priestess had made no secret of her attraction to Joel. More than once she'd offered him a place at her side. But there were things that Joel found repulsive and frightening about Walinda beyond her worship of a cruel and evil god. Walinda took sick delight in humiliating and physically harming people, even as she was attempting to seduce them. When Joel had insulted her by calling her a slave, the priestess had been perversely excited by his attitude.
The finder's stone sent out a beam of light that arched upward and around the slope. Walinda was on another face of Mount Chamada, somewhere much higher up.
"That's all the direction we need," Holly said to Joel. "You'd better put it away for now. We don't want the light to attract any unwanted attention."
Joel slid the crystal into the top of his boot as Emilo gave orders to steer the flying carpet in the general direction indicated by the finder's stone. The sky overhead was completely black, without a sign of sun, moon or stars. Noxious vapors and steam rose from the mountain, but the mists disappeared into the darkness; there were no clouds to be seen. Conversely, the mountainside below glowed with streams, pools, and fountains of lava, creating just enough illumination for them to travel without running into the ground or getting lost in the void.
They flew for some time in silence, staring ahead into the darkness or down at the glowering mountain, keeping watch for any of the evil creatures who dwelt in this plane. Joel glanced at his companions. Emilo wore an expression of wonder, but Holly and Jas both looked grim. Joel wondered if both women were thinking of Walinda and her treachery. When they'd last met, the evil priestess had abducted Holly and threatened to kill her if Joel didn't turn the Hand of Bane over to her. Joel had been prepared to pay the ransom for the paladin, but Jas had appeared suddenly and rescued Holly. Ultimately Walinda had refused to resurrect Bane, but not for any noble reason. At Joel's desperate urging, the priestess had chosen instead to be the woman who denied Bane power, proving herself stronger than the dead god.
After a while Joel began to feel weary. With no way to measure the passage of time, the bard wasn't sure if he was tired from lack of sleep, heat exhaustion, the noxious vapors, or just boredom, but when he noticed Emilo's head jerk up suddenly, he knew they had to sleep.
Uncomfortable with the notion of sleeping in the air, he said to the others, "Look for somewhere safe and solid to land. We need a rest."
Emilo spotted a canyon and maneuvered the flying carpet between the rocky slopes on either side. Joel pulled out the finder's stone and searched for a patch of ground that might be cool. Spying a touch of green on one slope, he directed Emilo to head for it.
As the flying carpet closed in on the slope, Holly furrowed her brow. The green was an odd triangular shape, and it seemed to reflect the light from the finder's stone. Something snaked about the apex of the triangle and raised itself in the direction of the adventurers.
"Eyestalks! That green thing is alive!" Holly gasped.
"Pull up! Fly backward!" Jas ordered.
The green thing suddenly rose from the ground to its full height, revealing itself to be a giant slimy worm with razorlike fins along its back, large triangular wings attached along the length of its body, and a deadly-looking barbed tail. It soared forward, then arched back in their direction. The creature's wings spanned nearly fifteen feet. A gaping maw full of needle-sharp teeth opened on the lower part of the creature's head.
Jas assessed the creature as it fluttered toward them. It was swift and maneuverable. "We can't fight this thing in the air," she said to Joel. "You'll have to land. I'll distract it while you find a defensible position." She took off from the carpet, carrying only her sword. As she soared toward the creature, Joel noticed that Jas's wings and the creature's were very similar.
Emilo maneuvered the carpet straight down and commanded it to hover a foot from the ground. Joel poked experimentally at the rock with his sword to be sure it wasn't merely a thin crust over a magma flow.
In the sky above, Jas flew straight toward the creature. Both began to rise upward to try to gain the advantage. Seeing she would lose the struggle for superior altitude, Jas leveled off. She'd hoped to soar untouched beneath the beast, but it dropped suddenly, trying to force her to the ground.
Jas jabbed her sword upward as the creature glided over her body, tearing at its belly. At the same time, the creature jabbed at her with its tail. Both Jas and the creature screeched in pain. But while the creature continued to soar in the direction of the hovering carpet, Jas dived to the ground.
Holly leapt off the carpet and whirled around with her sword drawn. The sword glowed with a brilliant gold radiance that seemed to frighten the creature. It veered to its right in an attempt to avoid the paladin's blade, but before Holly could slice downward on the beast, the leading edge of its wing caught her in the chest. Holly gasped and fell backward. The creature soared on.
When Holly pulled herself to her feet, Joel noted that the paladin's breastplate had a gaping hole in it. The creature's wing had sliced right through the metal armor. He remembered Finder had warned them of a razor-winged slasrath. That must be what they battled now. Joel ordered Emilo, "Go find Jas!" The kender took off down the canyon in the direction they'd last seen Jas, carefully weaving his way through the pools of lava that dotted the canyon floor.
Joel rummaged hastily through one of the backpacks. He had spilled most of the contents over the flying carpet before he found the scroll he wanted. By the time he'd unrolled the vellum, the slasrath was closing in on him and Holly. This time the paladin took a stance beside Joel, nearer to the bottom of the narrow canyon where the razor-winged beast couldn't spread its wings without slicing at the rocky slope on either side.
That's when they discovered that the slasrath, like their carpet, could hover overhead. Its wings rippled above them as it stabbed down at Holly with its tail. The deadly stinger at the end of the creature's tail struck her in the chest but failed to pierce the paladin's damaged breastplate.
By the light of the finder's stone, Joel chanted the incantation inscribed on the scroll as Holly fought to hold off the slasrath. When the bard finished, he motioned toward the slasrath's eyestalks, both focused on the paladin.
A light as bright as day burst about the slasrath's head. The beast howled in terror and soared upward. It hovered high above them, shaking its head, trying to throw off the light spell that now blinded it. It flew about in a spiral until it hit the mountainside. Then it lay still against the slope.
Emilo came pelting back up to Joel as fast as his short legs could carry him.
"You've got to come quick," the kender said breathlessly. "I think Jas has been poisoned."
They hopped on the carpet and Emilo ordered it to fly low along the floor of the canyon.
Jas lay on the ground on her stomach with her wings spread around her, effectively camouflaging her from view. Her left calf had swollen to the size of a melon, and her breathing was strained and shallow.
Joel dug frantically through the scrolls until he discovered one to neutralize poison. He set his hand on Jas's injured leg and chanted from the scroll. Blue light flowed from his hand and seeped into the winged woman. The swelling subsided slightly and Jas moaned. After a few minutes her breathing grew steadier and less labored. Emilo pulled out a water flask and helped Jas take a few sips.
Holly looked back down the canyon while Joel and Emilo aided the winged woman. "I'm going to finish taking care of that creature," the paladin said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
Before Joel could stop her, Holly began trekking back to where they'd last fought the slasrath. Joel called after her, but the paladin had already disappeared behind an outcropping of rock.
"Should I follow her?" Emilo asked.
Intent on casting a spell to heal Jas's injuries, Joel nodded without really thinking.
When the magical energy finished seeping into her, Jas sighed and sat up. "I'm getting too old for this," the winged woman grumbled.
> Holly and Emilo returned a few minutes later. Holly sat down and proceeded to clean the slasrath's ichor from her blade.
"I wish you wouldn't run off like that," Joel snapped.
"You blinded the thing. It would be cruel not to put it out of its misery quickly," the paladin countered. "Now we can camp here without worrying about it coming back."
Joel sighed. There was no sense arguing with Holly. The paladin was always certain she was doing the right thing.
The canyon floor was covered with black flinty ash and broken hexagonal columns of stone that had sheared away from the mountainside above. The ground was warm but solid. It was also sterile. Nothing grew anywhere, not even lichen on the rocks.
The adventurers set up camp on the carpet so they could flee quickly if attacked. They shared a meal from Winnie's supplies. Holly insisted that she wasn't very tired and took the first watch along with Emilo.
Joel slept fitfully in the Gehennan heat. He dreamt of the Realms being beset with nothing but bad luck-earthquakes, floods, and fires. Others died all around him, crushed, drowned, and burned, yet he remained unharmed. He realized he must be in a dream. Since he knew he was dreaming, he tried to qualm his fears of the disasters he witnessed. If Selune's suspicions were correct, it was not only Tymora's Luck that was being drained, but Beshaba's as well. Eventually the bad luck would end, too. Yet that thought would not quell Joel's dream fears, and the bard thought he understood why.
When Beshaba and Tymora were salvaged from the poisoned Tyche, perhaps they didn't really each possess a different kind of luck. Perhaps their very nature shaped the luck they had. Even were it within her power, the selfish and vengeful Beshaba would never grant anyone good luck, just as the kind and generous Tymora would never curse someone with misfortune. Now another power, was stealing both Beshaba's and Tymora's Luck. If an evil, selfish god had dominion over good luck, "good" luck would cease to exist.
Just when the bard thought his dreams couldn't get any worse, he dreamt again of the children.
OFFSTAGE
Somewhere else in the Prime Material Plane on the world known as Toril in Realmspace, Amber Wyvernspur watched with annoyance as her cousin Cory jumped across the marble tiles of the floor of the family mausoleum. Either Cory was especially lucky from being favored by Tymora or his father had been fool enough to demonstrate the secret pattern to him. A rectangular section of the floor dropped a foot lower than the surrounding floor and slid away, revealing a staircase leading downward.
"We have to hurry," Cory said. "The door doesn't stay open for long."
Tavan and Toran took up the torches they had just lit and took the lead. Cory, Lumen, and Ferrin hurried after them.
"Are there any spiders?" Heather asked uncertainly.
"Giant ones, as big as cats, with furry bodies," Olivia said gleefully. "We'll catch one and make it a pet."
"All right," Heather agreed. She didn't like spiders, but she loved cats.
The two younger girls headed down the stairs, leaving Amber with Pars.
"Pars, you don't have to come if you don't want to," the eldest Wyvernspur child said to her youngest brother.
"I'm not a baby," Pars shouted, and he started down the stairs, backward, so he could negotiate the steep steps without falling.
Amber sighed and followed behind him. The mausoleum had been chill, but on the stairs, warm air rose up from below. The warmth failed to dispel the gooseflesh on Amber's neck and arms.
At the bottom of the stairs the way was blocked with a heavy leaden door, on which was painted the image of a red wyvern. Heather pulled out Uncle Steele's key and turned it in the lock.
"What does that say?" Olivia asked, pointing to words engraved in the stone over the door.
Amber took Tavan's torch and held it up high. " 'None but Wyvernspurs shall pass this door and live,' " she read aloud.
"Neat!" Tavan said as he and his brother pushed open the door.
From the stairs above came a shout, a hoarse, growling war cry.
"What's that?" Ferrin whispered.
Amber looked back up the stairs with alarm. Something outside the mausoleum, something that must have been lurking in the graveyard, had followed them through the secret door. She squinted into the darkness and caught sight of glowing red eyes and the flash of a steel sword. A moment later she was able to make out the outline of a tall, hairy creature with a face like a pig's.
"It's an orc!" Amber shouted, throwing the torch she held at the creature. "Run!" she screamed.
The cousins raced through the door. Amber stopped only long enough to pick up Pars before dashing after the others. There was no time to close the door behind them.
The crypt beyond the door was a vast tunneled chamber with straight walls and a curved ceiling. The children's footfalls and screams echoed along the passage as they ran through the crypt. In the wall at the far end of the room was an arched opening that led to another stairway leading down.
"Wait!" Amber shouted as she passed beneath the arch. "Don't go down into the catacombs! It's dangerous down there!"
The others halted on the stairs and glared back at their eldest cousin.
"It's dangerous up here, too," Tavan whispered angrily. "Or hadn't you noticed, Lady Amber?"
"The orc can't get past the guardian," Amber said.
Tavan and Toran climbed back up to the landing beside the arched entrance and looked back into the crypt. By the light of the torch Amber had thrown, the children could make out at least five orcs hovering at the doorway at the opposite end of the crypt.
The orcs were grunting and growling at one another as if they were arguing about something. Finally two of the orcs entered the crypt and began moving slowly across the length of the stone chamber as silently as cats. They were dressed in shabby, torn clothing, but they were both armed with swords.
They're going to get us," Toran hissed.
"No. Look," Amber said, pointing toward the crypt's ceiling.
The shadow of a great wyvern, even more silent than the orcs, floated along the ceiling and hovered over the trespassers. Suddenly a great shadowy tail plunged downward twice-a quick stab into the back of each orc.
The orcs howled and fell forward stiffly, without any effort to break their fall. A shadowy wyvern's neck and head snaked down over its kill, lifted one of the orcs in its huge maw, and bit it in half with a sickening, crunching sound.
Pars began to cry. Amber covered his eyes, whispering, "Don't look, honey."
The orcs who had remained standing in the doorway screamed and shouted in their own language, but they made no effort to rescue their companions. Unfortunately they didn't leave, either, but stood eyeing the children at the other end of the room with hatred, waving their swords threateningly.
From the stairs where he stood transfixed with the other children, Gory murmured, "Uh-oh."
"I think we have another problem," Olivia said.
Amber looked down the stairs. Climbing up toward them were several black-scaled creatures with white horns and tails like rats. Amber recognized them as kobolds, monsters at least as vicious as orcs. They were no taller than Pars, but they held loaded crossbows, aimed directly at the children.
"I guess this is the proverbial rock and a hard place that Uncle Giogi's always talking about," Lumen muttered.
Inspired by the thought of his father, Gory declared, "Enough is enough!" He drew himself up to his full height and shouted down at the kobolds, "We carry the goddess Tymora's blessing. If you know what's good for you, you'll flee now."
The kobolds tittered and guffawed. The one in the lead drew himself up to his full height and, in a broken version of the common tongue, replied, "We carry blessings of Beshaba. We ask her kiss you with misfortune, you die."
ACT THREE SCENE 2
Joel awoke drenched in sweat and anxious. He'd dreamt the Wyvernspur children were trapped in a cave by foul monsters. They had called upon Tymora, but Tymora's Luck was gone from the Realms, leaving
them helpless. The bard shook his head. Selune had said she would check on the children, but perhaps his warning had come too late. Of course, it was possible that the dream had nothing to do with reality, but Joel doubted it. He rolled over, praying that Selune was able to do something for Finder's mortal family.
Soon after falling back asleep, the dreams returned. Joel dreamt of the earthquake in Tymora's garden. In his dream, however, the birch tree fell on top of him instead of away from him. He tried to push the trunk off his body, but it was soggy and rotten. A section broke off, leaving his hands covered with slime.
After several more attempts, Joel managed to wriggle out from beneath the tree.
"Joel," the tree called.
Joel whirled about. Buried within the rotting tree trunk was Finder. The tree fell away from the god. Then Finder began to age until he was an ancient, toothless old man. Joel gasped.
"Find Beshaba," Finder said. "Take her to the Spire."
"Is she here in Gehenna?" Joel asked. "And why the Spire? How do we get there?"
Finder didn't answer Joel's question. The god's flesh fell from his skeleton. Then the skeleton's mouth clacked, "Barghests use fear."
The ground began to shake once more, until gradually
Joel realized it wasn't the ground shaking. Emilo was shaking him awake, calling his name.
"I'm awake," Joel said, some unknown fear making his heart pound and bringing him to instant alertness. "What's wrong?" he demanded of the kender.
"It's Holly," Emilo explained. "She started muttering to herself. Then she cried out, 'Danger! Run!' and ran off." Emilo pointed deeper into the canyon.
Joel shivered despite the hot air. "There's something wrong here." His breathing grew very fast. "There's something terrible. Something dangerous all around us," he declared. With a rising sense of panic, he rose quickly to his feet, only to be seized with sudden, overwhelming fear. He started to run down the canyon and disappeared in the darkness.
