“I can see through the trees!” Listle exclaimed in surprise.
“Can’t you feel it?” Daile asked, shuddering. “They’re not living trees at all. They’re shadows. Dark echoes of the trees that used to grow there.” She swore fiercely. “An abomination.”
“It is the magic of the twilight pool,” Evaine explained. “It pervades the very ground here, perverting all it touches. We must be careful.”
Kern drew the hammer from his belt. “At least there are no monsters here to block our way.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” Trooper noted cuttingly.
“Do you see any monsters?” Kern asked in exasperation.
“No, but that’s not the point.” Trooper scratched his grizzled beard thoughtfully. “I remember a man who might not have been as eager as you to ride into that grove.”
Kern groaned. “I know you’re trying to help, Trooper, but this isn’t really the time for one of your long-winded stories.”
“Nonsense,” the old paladin snorted. “It’s the perfect time. This fellow I’m thinking of was a veteran warrior before you were even a mischievous whim in your parents’ minds. One day we were riding across the Stonelands some leagues to the east of here when we saw a huge white fortress perched high on a hill. I asked him what he thought of the place. He said to me, ‘Well, it’s white on this side.’ ” The paladin paused, apparently waiting for Kern’s reaction.
“I don’t understand,” Kern said with a frown.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, lad!” Trooper’s bushy eyebrows bristled as if for emphasis. “That’s what it means. Believe what your eyes tell you, but only what they tell you, and no more.”
Kern nodded, realizing his foolhardiness. It seemed there was still much to being a paladin that he had yet to learn. But there was no more time. They had reached the pool. He would just have to do his best to remember the lessons Trooper had taught him these last days, and hope he had learned enough.
The riders dismounted. On foot, they crossed the gray, snow-dusted tundra to the shadow-filled grove of trees. Evaine paused, shutting her eyes and spreading her arms wide. She winced, a flicker of pain crossing her brow.
“I can feel the power of the pool emanating from among the trees,” she said hoarsely. “The entrance to the cavern is somewhere in the grove.”
They stepped among the twisted shadow trees.
“I can still feel the suffering,” Daile murmured. “Everything that perished here did so in great pain.”
Gloom filled the air. Kern could see no more than a dozen paces ahead in the murk. The trees seemed to close in behind them with disconcerting swiftness. It was almost as if the trees had moved to block their escape, Kern thought. He quickly discarded the unpleasant notion.
Trooper pulled out an oil-soaked torch, and flint and tinder to light it.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Evaine hissed.
The old paladin froze, then nodded. “You’re right. I doubt they much care for fire.”
“Whom do you speak of?” Miltiades asked, but Trooper did not answer.
They continued on.
Listle looked around nervously, her eyes growing wider by the minute. She began to turn her head this way and that. It felt as if someone—or something—was creeping up from behind them. She felt sure of it. The sensation grew stronger with each passing step.
“There’s something behind us!” she whispered hoarsely.
“Get a hold of yourself,” Trooper growled. “There is magic at work here. Fear lingers on the air, but you have to resist it. We’re only as strong as our weakest link. If you succumb, Listle, we’re all lost.”
She nodded silently, clenching her jaw. She did her best to push the fear from her mind. It wasn’t easy, but if the others could manage, she could as well.
A rough, natural wall of stone loomed before them in the gray air. A jagged opening yawned like a gigantic maw. Evaine did not need to say that this was the entrance to the pool.
The attack came without warning.
A ring of shadow trees closed around them, swinging dark limbs ending in sharp, broken branches.
Kern was knocked from his feet and fell hard to the earth. A tree plucked Daile off the ground. The ranger screamed as she struggled to free herself, but more and more branches snaked out to grip her.
A dozen branches reached for Miltiades. He swung at them with his sword, his blade passing right through the shadow substance of the trees. Quickly he scrambled out of their reach. Evaine chanted the words of a spell. A ball of green lightning appeared in her hand, which she hurled at a knot of shadow trees. The lightning expanded as it flew through the air. It struck the approaching trees dead-on, bursting in a brilliant spray of emerald sparks. The shadow trees marched on, unaffected.
“Let her go!” Kern shouted, gaining his feet and charging the tree that held Daile. He swung the hammer at its trunk. Like Miltiades’ sword, it passed right through the immaterial substance of the tree.
“How can we fight shadows?” Trooper cried. He, too, was having no luck with his sword, and Gamaliel’s claws proved no more effective against the shadow trees.
“I have an idea,” Listle shouted. “Everyone, hold your weapons high!”
Kern didn’t know what the elf intended, but there was no time to question her. The circle of trees was tightening around them. He raised the Hammer of Tyr into the air. Trooper and Miltiades did likewise with their weapons.
Listle moved her hands in an intricate pattern. Suddenly all three of the upraised weapons shimmered with magical fire. “Now give them a try,” she said with a grin.
Miltiades turned to an approaching tree. He swung his sword, cleaving an outstretched branch in two. The tree recoiled in agony, the severed branch smoking. With a cry, Kern hurled himself at the tree that held Daile captive. His blow landed squarely on its trunk. The shadow tree shuddered as crimson flame licked up its dark surface.
It still did not let go of Daile.
Kern swore. The flames would consume her along with the tree.
“Daile, you’ve got to break free!” he cried.
“I can’t!” She struggled frantically, to no avail. The flames leaped higher, until Daile was lost to sight. Kern staggered backward in horror as the tree toppled to the ground. In moments the flames died down and vanished. There was nothing left of the shadow tree.
Daile sat on the ground, unhurt, a puzzled expression on her face.
“How—How—” she began.
“It’s illusionary fire!” Listle called out in explanation.
Suddenly Kern understood the logic. “Illusionary fire to burn shadow trees,” he said in amazement. “How did you guess, Listle?”
She regarded him with a strange expression. “I’m the expert on illusions, aren’t I, Kern?”
He did not have time to reply. Cold, misty branches clutched at him from behind. He whirled around, hammer blazing, and another tree was turned into flaming splinters.
With the help of Listle’s magical fire, Kern, Miltiades, and Trooper made quick work of the rest of the shadow trees. At last the grove was silent. If the remaining trees were capable of fighting, they were less willing to try now.
Kern drew in a deep breath of relief. They had survived the first test.
“This cannot be!” Sirana shrieked.
She stood upon a small spur of rock in the center of the pool of twilight. Her body was completely obscured now by the brilliant metallic flecks that swirled madly beneath her skin, but she neither noticed nor cared. She watched an image in the surface of the pool. Kern and his wretched band of friends had just slain her beautiful shadow trees.
“How dare they defy me?” she screamed once more, her voice resounding through the vast cavern.
For the first time since becoming guardian of the pool, she felt a pang of anxiety. She had believed her power to be invincible. Could it be that these fools truly presented a threat to her?
“They will not defeat me!�
� she snarled. “I will have my revenge. And the Hammer of Tyr. Then I will become a goddess!”
But perhaps she needed some help.
Yes, that was it. Why hadn’t she thought of getting help sooner? There was one in particular who could help her defeat the paladin-puppy and his band of idiots. In fact, he would have no choice but to aid her.
She cast her mind forth, using the power of the pool to send forth a summons. A summons that could not be refused.
When that was done, she turned her thoughts to a plan. She needed something else out of the ordinary to neutralize the invaders. But what?
Suddenly a gleaming tendril of water lifted itself from the pool, bearing a staff of dull silver. Sirana laughed.
Ah, yes, the Staff of Twilight. The pool knew her very thoughts. She reached out and grasped the throbbing staff.
Now she had everything she needed.
Dusk alighted on the high crag, spreading wide his midnight-black wings.
A thousand dragons filled the huge valley that stretched before him. For three days he had flown the length and breadth of the Moonsea, using the power Sirana had granted him from the pool to rally the evil dragons. Black, blue, red, and green, he sought them all in their lairs, deep in dank caves and perched on mountain heights. The magic of the twilight pool lent power to his words, and it had been simple to fan the spark of hatred each dragon bore in its heart for humankind.
“Hear me now, my brothers and sisters!” Dusk trumpeted, his voice thundering throughout the valley. “The second dragon-rage is nigh! We shall drive the humans from their homes. We shall slay them to the last. And then we will plunder their cities of treasure. Each of you will gain a hoard of gold such as a king only dreams of!”
And, Dusk added to himself, I will have a hundred times that many riches, a treasure such as Faerun has never known. He smiled toothily, immensely pleased. None could hold the feeblest candle to his majesty. He was the most powerful dragon in all the northlands, and the others recognized his stature. But he was more than simply the strongest of his kind. He was their ruler, the emperor of dragons.
Dusk opened his many-fanged maw, ready to send out the order that would bring the dragons soaring into the sky in a deadly rainbow of color, the order that would begin the second dragon-rage. At last, he would have his long-awaited revenge against that wretched city of Phlan, and against all humankind.
Suddenly a voice pierced his mind.
Come to me, Dusk! I have need of you.
Dusk froze. No, this could not be! He felt something clutch at his essence, as if his heart were a puppet on a string.
“I will not, Sirana!” Dusk shrieked. Flecks of twilight swirled wildly in his one good eye.
Heed my call, Dusk. You cannot resist.
“No!” he screamed. Stones all around shattered at the furious pitch of his voice. But his wings had already started to beat, lifting him from the crag. His blood burned in his veins. It was as if he were a fish caught on a fisherman’s line, slowly being reeled in. He tried to resist the pull, but it was too strong, too overpowering. The magical power he had accepted bound him inexorably to the pool.
“Curse you, Sirana! You will pay for this!”
Finally he could resist no longer. Silver sparks blazing in his eye, he soared high into the air, streaking toward the pool of twilight.
Below him the evil dragons let out a roar of anger and confusion. Their leader was abandoning them. Without his influence, glorious thoughts of gold and human cities in flame evaporated from their minds. Their individual suspicious and greedy natures returned. Those that did not wheel to attack the dragons nearest to them immediately leaped into the air and sped back to their lairs to jealously guard their private hoards.
The second dragon-rage was over before it had begun.
The seven adventurers stood before the gaping entrance of the cave.
“Be ready,” Evaine warned.
“For what?” Listle asked with a gulp.
“Anything,” the sorceress replied.
Listle sighed. “I was afraid that was what you were going to say.”
Kern led the way into the dark tunnel, the others following close behind. There was no hope of catching Sirana by surprise. The attack of the shadow trees showed that she was all too aware of their presence. Their only hope was to distract her long enough so that Evaine could cast her spell to destroy the pool. How exactly they were going to do that, no one could say.
Kern held the Hammer of Tyr aloft before him. The weapon gave off a faint blue light, but the darkness seemed to smother the illumination. He could see no more than a few scant feet before him.
The tunnel wound down into the pitch darkness. The air grew stuffier. Soon Kern was sweating inside his armor. It was growing difficult to breathe.
There was no warning when the floor suddenly yawned beneath them.
Kern screamed as he plummeted through jet blackness. He heard the cries of the others around him, heard their voices echoing off stone, but he could no longer see them. Dank air whipped wildly past him. The cries of the others were cut short. Kern felt himself become tangled in a mass of something sticky and rubbery.
Then he hit the ground.
He lay stunned for long minutes. Then, dizzily, he pulled himself to his feet. A dim gray light sprang to life around him. He could see that his armor was covered with sticky blue cobwebs. That meant someone had tried to use …
His head snapped up. He stood at the edge of a dull, metallic-looking pool of water in the center of a vast cavern. He gasped when he saw his companions suspended in the air twenty feet above the pool, struggling futilely against invisible bonds that gripped them.
A form stood on a rock in the center of the pool, holding a gleaming staff. At first, the being’s outline was obscured by the bright sparks of twilight that swirled within its flesh.
Then, with a surge of fury, Kern recognized the being.
“Yes, Kern, it is I,” Sirana’s voice sneered. “Welcome to the pool of twilight.”
19
Twilight Falls
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, paladin,” Sirana’s voice leered as Kern raised the Hammer of Tyr.
He hesitated.
Sirana’s wings fluttered. She waved her silvery staff, and Kern’s friends danced in the air above the pool like puppets on strings. Daile was thrashing like a caged animal, while Trooper muttered a stream of curses. Miltiades and Gamaliel were having no better luck than the venerable paladin. The magical trap was too strong, even for those two most powerful warriors. Unable to use their hands, neither Evaine nor Listle could cast any spell. But the invisible bonds did not prevent Listle from tossing a few choice insults down at Sirana. The half-fiend ignored the elf’s imaginative taunts.
“Strike me with that precious hammer of yours, Kern, and you’re going to ruin this useful staff as well. If you destroy the Staff of Twilight your beloved friends will plunge into my pool.”
The steely waters sucked and gurgled hungrily about the rock in the pool’s center.
“And when they do, paladin, they’ll be fused with zombie corpses that wait in the pool’s depths, ready to help your friends turn into creatures of darkness.” Sirana raised her gnarled arms exultantly. “Now that would be a sight worth seeing. The lovely sorceress Evaine, sprouting from the back of a decomposing troll, recruited into my zombie army!” Sirana’s eyes flashed. “Or perhaps you’d rather see what creatures I have ready to burrow into the flesh of the pretty little elf….”
She flicked the staff, and Listle screamed as she dropped a few inches, dangling closer to the perilous surface of the pool.
With a growl, Kern lowered the Hammer of Tyr.
“There is one way you can save your precious friends,” Sirana’s all-pervasive voice cooed. “Except for the one you call Miltiades, that vile metal can of moldering bones. There will be no saving that … that heinous defiler of my father’s tower. I plan to grind that wretched skeleton to dust!” Uns
een magical hands shook Miltiades violently. His skeletal body rattled inside his armor, though his ever-stoic expression did not waver. “However, I will free the others—even the treacherous sorceress, Evaine—if you will do just one tiny thing. Drop the Hammer of Tyr into the pool.”
Kern scowled, gritting his teeth. He clenched the holy relic tightly. It was his destiny to return the hammer to Phlan. He couldn’t simply cast it into the pool. Yet if he did not, it looked as if his friends would die. Slowly, he extended the hammer out over the pool’s edge.
“Kern, don’t!” Listle managed to cry out. Invisible bonds squeezed the elf brutally, silencing her.
“Do it, paladin!”
Kern clenched his jaw, loosening his grip….
Thunder split the air.
Jagged chunks of stone crashed to the cavern’s floor as a hole burst open in the ceiling above. Something crashed through with a deafening noise.
A vast black dragon.
Kern froze in astonishment, realizing it was the beast Trooper had called Dusk.
The dragon circled menacingly.
“How have you forced me to return here, sorceress?” the dragon hissed.
The half-fiend laughed shrilly. “Just because you are guardian of the pool no longer—and I am guardian in your place—does not mean your pact with the pool is broken. When you accepted the power I granted you, you also accepted shackles that bind you to me. You cannot ignore my call, Dusk!”
“This cannot be!” the dragon shrieked. Brilliant silver sparks danced in his one good eye. “I was on the verge of sending a thousand evil dragons against the cities of the Moonsea. The dragon-rage was about to begin!”
Kern gasped as the beast whirled dangerously close to his friends. They bobbed up and down in the dragon’s wake, like leaves buffeted by the wind.
“Your petty dragon-rage means nothing to me,” Sirana’s voice snapped. “I have need of you here. These vile creatures intend to destroy the pool of twilight. Without its magic, you wouldn’t have the power of a garden snake, Dusk. Now, obey my command. Kill these intruders for me.” She pointed the staff directly at Kern. “And start with this puppy-paladin.”
Pool of Twilight Page 27
