Tymora's Luck

by Kate Novak

  “Soon, Lady Beshaba,” the Morninglord replied softly, “you will be free from the spite and malice that enslaves your heart. You will become happier and more beloved than you have ever been. Although I realize you would never agree, you, even more than Lady Tymora, should appreciate what I am about to do for you.”

  “Hear me, Lathander,” Beshaba vowed. “If any part of me truly remains in Tyche, she will claw out your eyes the first chance she gets.”

  “Lathander, Selune will never let you get away with this,” Tymora said fiercely. “You cannot hope to keep her from discovering this. She is your ally. She is aware of all that happens wherever you have followers, even here in your realm. Even if you’ve renounced your alliance, Finder’s priest is here, and Finder is an ally of Selune’s as well. Your scheme is already uncovered.”

  “Not really,” Lathander said. “With Sirrion’s aid, I have created a dark zone about this machine that makes it impossible for anyone, even a god, to sense what goes on within. Besides, Selune is far too busy searching for the elusive Iyachtu Xvim and helping keep your church on its feet in your absence.”

  “So you are in league with Xvim,” Beshaba declared.

  “Hardly,” Lathander replied with a tone that suggested he found the idea extremely distasteful.

  “Then how did he know when to attack my realm?” Beshaba demanded.

  “That was an unfortunate mistake on my part, Lady Beshaba,” Sirrion said. “The priests of Xvim had stolen one of your power keys from your temple in Waterdeep. The minion I sent to purchase it said far more than he should have, and the priests of Xvim figured out the rest. Thus, soon after rumors of Tymora’s weakness began to spread, Xvim, realizing you, too, must also be weakened, took advantage of the knowledge to attack you. Unfortunately for him I had not yet drained as much power from you as I had from Tymora. He fled from your wrath and is hiding in Baator.”

  “And why is it necessary for you to drain away our power?” Beshaba asked.

  “First, so that we could capture you,” Lathander explained. “Second, so that the fusion chamber could handle the job of uniting the two of you. It’s an ingenious device, but hardly up to the task of containing and fusing that much godly power. We returned some of your power so you would regain consciousness and I could explain to you what was about to happen. Now, however, we must drain you again so that you will once more fall unconscious and we can remove the bard from the fusion chamber. He couldn’t possibly survive the fusion process.”

  “What’s going to happen to all the power you drain from us?” Tymora asked bitterly.

  “It’s being transferred into the blue crystal sphere,” Lathander said. “It was the last power key Tyche ever made.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Tymora snapped.

  “When you and Beshaba are united, all the power will be restored to you,” Lathander promised. “You will be more powerful than ever.”

  “Interesting,” Beshaba said. Suddenly a great spear appeared in her hand. She drew it back and pointed it at Tymora, who was so engrossed with glaring at Lathander and Sirrion that she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Look out!” Joel cried out as Beshaba hurled the weapon. In the nick of time, he threw himself at Lady Luck, knocking her out of the spear’s path.

  “Beshaba, what are you doing?” Lathander shouted.

  Tymora leapt to her feet and took cover with Joel behind a large shield she created from the chaos matter.

  “If Tymora is dead, Lathander,” Beshaba replied, “obviously you cannot shackle me to her side.” She addressed Tymora. “You would do well to follow my lead, Sister. Soon we will be too weak to act on our own behalf. If you destroy me, so be it. I am willing to risk my life to spite this arrogant peacock. We are now at war,” Beshaba declared. She pointed one hand at Tymora, and a bolt of lightning crashed down just to the left of Tymora.

  Tymora responded by conjuring a magical dagger and hurling it at the Maid of Misfortune. As Beshaba ducked, Tymora grabbed Joel’s hand and fled from the temple, flying into the chaos.

  Act Four

  Scene 5

  Back in the wilderness of the Outlands, Finder nodded to Bors and Kenda. “Give Factol Montgomery my thanks for your timely information.” Then he looked at Holly. “We have a report to make to Selune,” he said, reaching out and grabbing the paladin’s shoulder. He held his other hand out to Jas. The winged woman grabbed Emilo, then took up Finder’s hand. The god whispered, “Argentil,” and teleported the three adventurers away from the Outlands.

  The next moment Jas found herself swimming beneath a bright full moon in a cold sea. She burst from the water, pulling the kender with her. Of Finder and Holly there was no sign. Cradling Emilo in her arms, she fluttered above the surface of the choppy water with huge white mothlike wings, shouting for the god and the paladin. The moonlight glittered along the waves, but Jas was too panic-stricken to appreciate the beauty all about her.

  She couldn’t understand why Finder had teleported to this place, but she knew that Holly, in her heavy plate armor, would never be able to make it to the water’s surface. For a second, she wondered if Finder was still so angry with the paladin that he would allow her to drown, but she dismissed the idea with a shake of her head. She was sure Finder couldn’t be so cruel.

  After several fearful moments, Finder bobbed to the surface of the water, cradling Holly, coughing and spluttering, in his arms.

  “What went wrong?” Jas asked.

  “I tried to teleport to Argentil, Selune’s hall, but someone has placed a barrier about the Isle of the Gates of the Moon. We slid into the sea when I hit the barrier.”

  “Lathander,” Holly whispered. “He knows you know his plan. He’s trying to keep Selune from discovering it.”

  “Can’t Selune sense us out in the ocean?” Jas asked.

  “Not if Lathander’s taken the precaution to shield us magically from her senses. He’s much more powerful than I,” Finder said. “I can’t beat him at this game.”

  “My presence will give away your every move,” Holly said. She held up a small white flower and ripped it in half, whispering, “Morning Glory.” The paladin vanished.

  “What happened?” Emilo gasped. “Where did Holly go?”

  “She returned to Lathander with a piece of magic, like the one I gave you to return to Fermata,” Finder explained.

  “So what now?” Jas asked. “Back to Fermata?”

  “No,” Finder said. He set one hand on Jas’s head and the other on Emilo’s and murmured the word, “Precipice.”

  Then next moment they stood at the top of a high cliff covered with heather and overlooking a river. The river poured into a lagoon before it plunged over an even higher cliff. Spray from the waterfall rose all the way to the top of the highest cliff, moistening the heather and making the air smell sweet. The sun shone brightly, creating rainbows in the mist.

  As Jas set Emilo down beside her, the kender held his hands over his stomach. “I think I’m getting dizzy from all this popping in and out,” he said. “Oooh. Jas, your wings look just like the phoenix’s wings,” the kender added.

  Jas looked at the flame-colored feathers sprouting from her back and grimaced. “That’s just ducky,” she muttered. “Where are we, anyway?”

  “Somewhere near Lathander’s realm, or at least as near as I dare try to teleport,” Finder replied. “If Lathander has a barrier around Selune’s realm, he’s sure to have one around his own.”

  “So what now?” Jas asked.

  “We make our way toward his realm and hope we can sneak up on him,” Finder said.

  “How do you sneak up on a god?” Jas asked.

  “Well, between maintaining the barrier around Selune’s isle, shielding me from Selune’s senses, keeping the dark region in his realm from prying eyes, and trying to put Tyche together again, he has a good deal on his mind,” Finder said. “We’ll have to seize any chance that comes our way and hope he’s too distracted to notice.”


  “Distracted,” a quavering voice said behind them. “I get distracted all the time.”

  The god and his companions whirled around. There stood an ancient old man in gray robes, his face and head covered with long, flowing, white hair.

  “Sometimes the least little thing can distract me,” the old man said. “I reach for the cheese cutter, and I remember I’ve left the barn door open. Of course, eventually all the cows come home to roost, but still, if you let them wander in strange corn, they start claiming alien spelljammers took them jumping over the moon. Then I sit down to dinner and realize I’ve forgotten to bring out not only the cheese cutter but the cheese as well.”

  “Oh, boy,” Jas murmured, having met more than a few senile old men in her life.

  In spite of the dire nature of his quest, Finder was so amused by the old man’s ramblings that he chuckled in spite of himself. “Sir, I know just how you feel,” Finder answered the old man. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Finder Wyvernspur, and these are my companions, Jasmine and Emilo Haversack.”

  “Haversack?” the old man asked. “Have we met somewhere?”

  “Yes, sir,” Emilo said. “A few days ago, in some other place. You made me unnoticeable except to people from Krynn so I could help you discover if someone was an impostor or not.”

  Jas and Finder exchanged surprised glances.

  “See,” the old man said, holding a finger up in front of Finder, “you don’t have to remember everything. Sometimes you can get other people to do it for you.”

  “I’ll find someone to remember that for me, sir,” Finder replied.

  “Ha!” the old man laughed. “You are a sharp one, aren’t you?” Then he turned to Jas. He put a hand on the woman’s cheek. “You’ve grown to be a lovely young lass,” he said. “Why, I remember when you were just a wee tiny baby.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have me confused with someone else?” Jas asked in a kindly tone.

  “You are Rose and Michael’s little girl, aren’t you?” he asked.

  Jas’s jaw dropped. “Those were my parents’ names,” she said, surprised.

  “You look just like your mother,” the old man said. “Now, Finder, my boy—”

  “Yes, sir?” Finder said.

  “This is for you,” the old man said, handing Finder an envelope.

  Finder turned over the envelope. It was addressed simply to “Our Friend.” The god opened the envelope and pulled out a plain white card edged in gold. “It’s a wedding invitation,” he noted.

  “Yes. Someone I know threw it away. Very unlike him. I had to wonder if it was really him.”

  “But it isn’t addressed to us,” Finder said.

  “It doesn’t matter. That’s the wonderful thing about weddings. Everyone is welcome. Turning away a guest would be very bad form,” the old man said.

  “But this invitation is for a wedding that took place last month,” Finder pointed out.

  “Oh, that doesn’t matter,” the old man said. “Better late than never to give best wishes to the happy couple. Anyway, it will get you where you want to go. It’s a portal key. Just hold it up and say … and say … Oh, dear, I seem to have forgotten. Let me think for a moment. ‘Don’t leave me in the lurch?’ ‘Stop on a dime?’ Hmmm … That’s not it. How about, ‘Plant a little birch, make a little rhyme?’ No. Oh, now I remember. You say, ‘Get me to the church on time,’ and you’ll be there.”

  Finder laughed at the irony of the words. “I really appreciate this, sir. Thank you,” he said. “But it occurs to me you haven’t told me your name.”

  “My name?” the old man repeated. “My name is Fuzz-bat.… No, wait. Fezbutt,” he said with less certainty. “Or maybe it’s Fizz … Fizz … Fizz Something. I’m quite sure.”

  “Oh. I thought it might be something else,” Finder said. “But I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Fizz Something.”

  “What did you think my name was?” Fizz Something asked.

  “Well, the way you’ve come to the rescue, completely out of the blue, I thought you might be Ao,” Finder replied. “The Overpower of the Cosmos.”

  Fizz Something laughed hard for several moments until he started to cough and wheeze. When he had recovered, he looked up at Finder. “What an interesting guess,” he said. Then he teleported away.

  “What was that all about?” Jas asked, completely confused by the exchange between the god and the old man.

  “That was Fizz Something,” Finder said. “A god from your world, I believe,” he said to Emilo.

  “No,” Emilo replied. “He’s just a nice old wizard.”

  “Right,” Finder said. “Just a nice old wizard.”

  “So the invitation is a portal key?” Jas asked. “It must have been someone pretty important for such a fancy invitation.”

  “It’s for the marriage of Aurora Brightday to Allain Crimson, to be held in the realm of Morning Glory,” Finder explained. “And it’s high time we wished the happy couple joy.” He reached out for Jas’s hand. Jas, in turn, took Emilo’s hand. Finder held up the wedding invitation and called out, “Get me to the church on time.”

  The heather-covered precipice over the river disappeared, replaced by an orchard of peach trees. The sun was just rising over a distant mountain ridge. Birds flitted about over their heads, twittering excitedly.

  Suddenly a tall, dark girl in plate armor came running toward them.

  “It’s Holly!” Jas said.

  Holly ran straight to Finder. “Hurry!” she begged. “Lady Beshaba is trying to kill Lady Tymora, and Lord Lathander won’t do anything to interfere.”

  Act Four

  Scene 6

  Joel spat out the dirt in his mouth as Tymora formed a protective cocoon around them.

  “My hero,” the goddess called him as she helped pat out the fire that singed his hair and clothing.

  The Limbo-like chaos they had just flown through left Joel dazed. The disorganized elements didn’t seem to bother the goddess in the least.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” Lady Luck said. “You are lucky for me, Rebel Bard. But I think it’s time you were going.”

  “Going where, my lady?” Joel asked.

  “You cannot stay in the fusion chamber. You cannot negotiate the chaos matter, and I cannot protect you and defend myself from Beshaba at the same time. Beshaba will either kill you or use you against me, and I cannot allow that.”

  “The magical barrier surrounding this place holds living matter prisoner,” Joel said. “There is no way for me to leave.”

  “I think I have a way around that,” the goddess replied.

  “Lady Tymora,” Joel objected, “if I leave the fusion chamber, Lathander and Sirrion will begin to merge you with Beshaba immediately. The longer I stay here, the more time I buy for Finder to rescue you.”

  Tymora smiled and placed her palm on Joel’s cheek. “You are so like Finder was when he was young, before he grew afraid of death. Such valor is commendable. Still, you must go.”

  “Finder will not be pleased if I do not render you every assistance I can,” Joel insisted.

  “Finder would be less pleased if you should die, though he does not know that,” Tymora said. “He needs you. Take care of him, Rebel Bard. Be his luck, as you were mine.” She kissed him on the cheek.

  Joel opened his mouth to object more strenuously, but his face was suddenly too stiff to move. His limbs felt as stiff as stone. Then he realized that his limbs were stone. His whole body had become a statue. Then his mind went black.

  Finder, Jas, Holly, and Emilo burst into the clearing beside the tent near the intersecting streams.

  “They’re in there!” Holly cried out, pointing to a shimmering portal hovering over a stone altar.

  Just as the paladin spoke, a stone statue came sliding out of the portal. It was covered with dirt and dripping with water. Little patches of flame flickered over its surface. Nonetheless, they were able to recognize the statue.

  “I
t’s Joel!” Jas gasped. “He’s been turned to stone.”

  Finder motioned with one hand, and the statue levitated to his side. Then he touched the stone, and Joel slumped into his god’s arms, flesh and blood once more. The bard moaned softly. He felt as if he’d been sleeping on rocks for days.

  As Joel’s head cleared, he noticed Lathander, standing beneath the portal with his back turned toward them. The god spun around to face the intruders. He looked surprised to see Holly standing with Finder.

  “Paladin, what is the meaning of this? Why have you brought Finder here?” the Morninglord asked Holly.

  “Forgive me, Lord Lathander,” Holly said, “but something isn’t right here. Lord Finder should have an opportunity to speak on behalf of Lady Tymora.”

  “There is no time, paladin,” Lathander said. “If we delay the fusion any longer, Beshaba may destroy Tymora or vice versa. Then Tyche can never be resurrected. Lord Sirrion, are you ready?”

  “It will take only a few moments more to drain off enough power from both goddesses to make the fusion safe,” Sirrion replied.

  “You have your priest, Lord Finder,” Lathander said. “I suggest you leave now, before I grow annoyed by your intrusion.”

  Finder set Joel down beside Jas. The bard leaned heavily on the winged woman, hardly able to move a muscle.

  “You can grow peeved, piqued, and provoked, for all I care,” Finder said. “I’m not leaving without Tymora.”

  “You cannot hope to defeat my plan,” Lathander said. “I am far, far more powerful than you.”

  “I need only hold you off until Selune grows suspicious,” Finder said.

  Lathander glowered at the younger god. “You cannot stop me,” he said.

  “Did you think that if you succeeded, Selune would forgive you?” Finder asked. “That because she was friends with Tyche, she would be pleased that you sacrificed Tymora?”

  “Once it is done, Selune will have no choice but to accept it,” Lathander argued.

  “If you thought your cause was truly just, you wouldn’t be reluctant for the Moon Maiden to know what you intend,” Finder retorted.