Plague of Shadows

by Howard Andrew Jones

  Kellius and Vallyn dropped gently to the floor with her, and both men released her arms. It felt good to have something solid under her feet. While Vallyn and the wizard approached the tower's center, Elyana glanced once more over the valley. Worm and dragon still battled, though the worm leaked even more ichor than before. The dragon was not unscathed. Both wings displayed great, jagged rents, one of which was trailing black smoke.

  Vallyn faced his lute forward again across his belly while Kellius advanced toward a stone panel set at head level into the structure at the tower's center. No hinges, handles, or pulls were obvious. The stone was smooth and featureless, but as Elyana centered her own magical energies upon it she discovered that the panel was magically inscribed with a disturbing symbol—a skull with chains hanging from the orbits of its eyes.

  "Zon-Kuthon," Vallyn said in disgust. "It just keeps getting worse."

  "It's hardly surprising, though," Elyana said, wishing she'd better prepared herself for dealing with the dark god's faith. "Arcil said he's the one who put up the towers."

  "How are we going to get through?" Vallyn asked. "There's no handle. There aren't even hinges."

  "I may be able to open it." Kellius stepped closer, hands outstretched, fingers quivering.

  Elyana exchanged a quick glance with Vallyn, who was clearly concerned.

  "Are you going to touch it?" the bard asked.

  Kellius didn't answer.

  It was not a time to stand and ponder mysteries. The dragon would have to triumph before too much longer, and then their challenges might become insurmountable. Their exit was in question. Elyana looked over her shoulder to the titanic battle and saw the dragon retreat before another spray of green ichor from the worm.

  Kellius lowered his hands. "There's a gap, here, in the stone." He knuckled one hand as if to rap on a thin gray brick that framed the panel, but did not touch it. "This brick's an illusion, and there's a tiny chamber beyond. I think you're supposed to put your hand inside."

  "A blood sacrifice," Elyana said.

  "You're kidding." Vallyn sighed in disgust.

  "Probably you're supposed to lose a little blood in reverence to ...the god." Kellius hesitated, as if reluctant to say the name. "I just don't know if it's going to take a little blood, or your whole hand."

  "With this god," Vallyn said, "everything but the hand might be seared off."

  Elyana sighed inwardly. "Very well. Move aside."

  "Are you serious?" Kellius asked her. She didn't answer, but raised her left hand. "Which stone is it?"

  Kellius frowned, took a deep breath, then pivoted and thrust his own hand at what looked like an ordinary block.

  "Kellius!" Elyana cried. The mage's fingers passed straight through and his lips immediately pulled back in a grimace. His back arched and he rocked with pain. She started forward to assist him, but Vallyn held her back.

  "It's his ritual," the bard said. "Interference could get both of you killed. Don't speak, lad," Vallyn urged. "Not a sound. Hold it in ..."

  At the same moment, a door-sized section of stone adjacent to the panel and stretching through the stones below it simply vanished, revealing a flight of stairs descending to darkness.

  Elyana caught Kellius by one shoulder as the mage breathed in again and pulled his hand free. Panting heavily, the magic-worker looked first at his palm, then flexed his fingers experimentally.

  "That was very foolish," Elyana told him.

  "You've taken more than enough risks for all of us," Kellius said.

  "What did it do to you?" Vallyn asked.

  "It was ...painful." Kellius' sober look added extra weight to the final word. "As though my hand were being scorched with flame while being skewered with a hundred tiny knives."

  "A pain test," Vallyn mused. "Good thing you didn't shout. Something worse might have happened."

  Kellius rubbed his hand, still looking over it carefully. "That's a pleasant thought."

  "Are you sure you're all right?" Elyana asked.

  The wizard nodded distractedly. Vallyn was already peering into the stairwell, although he permitted Elyana to lead the way in.

  Beyond was nothing but silence, and the smell of stone and dust. She started down the stairs, and soon found herself in a round room bounded by the tower's walls. The star points had apparently not been incorporated into the interior design. Light from the stairwell opening illuminated a sprinkling of diamonds and gems set into the chamber's mortar, but she paid little heed even as the bard whispered a prayer of thanks. Elyana's attention had been captured by a jumble of large brown bones lying along one wall.

  She drew her sword and advanced carefully. She noted with disinterest that the gems that had set Vallyn smiling were arranged in pictographic images of Zon-Kuthon inflicting pain in a variety of ways upon great swaths of humanity. Most of her attention was on the bones.

  "What was it?" Kellius asked at her elbow.

  "It looks like it's been dead for a long, long time," Vallyn said. "Let's hope it stays that way."

  The bones seemed uninclined to move, which was refreshing in such environs, and she risked another glance to take in the room.

  The stairway stretched down from the ceiling and turned in the floor's center to continue farther down. Its left wall was open, without rail or banister, although three support pillars rose at even intervals along its edge.

  Kellius spoke a short, sharp word and a feeble white light blossomed in the chamber.

  "Wouldn't it be wonderful if the tower's guardian had just up and died?" Vallyn said. "It wouldn't make for much of a story, but it—"

  Kellius interrupted. "Elyana, Vallyn, come here." The wizard was peering down the stairwell, his expression troubled.

  Elyana joined him. "What is it?"

  "Something moved down there. Something white."

  "So much for your hope, Vallyn," Elyana said.

  By way of answer, the bard strummed a quick succession of chords. "I'd like you both to have a little inspiration." The song was different from any she'd heard him weave before, and more powerful, for Elyana felt stronger, taller even, as though more life flowed within her than she usually knew.

  She nodded her thanks and, after a last glance at the motionless bones, started down. In the old days, Stelan would have been at her side. Now she was in the forefront, the wizard following, Vallyn to the rear.

  The chamber proved entirely different from that above. Light shone upon every wall, for each was carved with illuminated figures of surpassing loveliness, endowed somehow with grace and a sense of movement. Elyana did not dwell upon the walls, despite her interest, for two floating apparitions draped in white waited at the landing.

  Elyana was no stranger to ghosts, and her neck hair prickled with a sense of dread as she looked upon them. These two, though, were different from the three disfigured crones she had encountered in the Galtan cemetery. These had been lovely women, and their faces were not diseased or twisted in rage. They looked only sad. Though they themselves looked human, their garments appeared elven in their simplicity of design, flowing but not voluminous, so that the dresses were both feminine and flattering without being constrictive or revealing. Both ghosts wore necklaces depicting a long-tailed bird, and Elyana recognized the symbol with a start as that of the goddess Shelyn, sister to Zon-Kuthon. The white thread of the necklace stood out along their paler necks, and the birds themselves glowed with a pale light.

  The ghosts hovered just beyond the foot of the stairs but did not attack, and Elyana found the dark places where their eyes had been too disturbing to meet.

  One of the ghosts drifted a half-step before the other and raised her head. Her lips moved. Elyana was not altogether sure that she heard the voice so much as felt it.

  "Who are you that comes to pay respect in the ch
apel of Shelyn?"

  Elyana heard Vallyn's sharp intake of breath. "In a temple to her brother?" he asked. Elyana started to speak, but Vallyn suddenly brushed past her and halted on the last foot of the stair to bow respectfully.

  "We are wayfarers," the bard said, "come to visit this tower to pay reverence to the mistress of light and song."

  "We bid you welcome." The lead ghost inclined her head.

  "What's a temple of hers doing in a star tower?" Kellius asked quietly of Elyana.

  Elyana wasn't sure. The two were brother and sister, but Zon-Kuthon was master of pain and suffering, while Shelyn was the mistress of art and music. Zon-Kuthon was said to be obsessed with his beautiful sister, but Elyana was still shocked to find a temple to her within a structure to a god diametrically opposed to her beliefs.

  The second spirit drifted closer to her companion. "Sister," she asked softly, "how did they gain entrance? There is no priest or priestess with them."

  "Perhaps they knew the holy word."

  "Sisters," Vallyn said with a ready smile, "we have come from very far away. Do you not have welcome for us?"

  "They have come for the treasures," the second ghost told her companion, then raised a hand to Vallyn. "This is no place for rest. You must turn back."

  "But we need your aid."

  "Much as we would like to render succor," the second ghost told them, "this is a chapel only for those with a sacred duty to take up arms against the beasts of Rovagug. If you have not come in service of that duty, you must depart."

  Elyana could think of nothing clever; that was Vallyn's duty, and she looked to him.

  The bard licked his lips, then presented his best smile once more. "Ladies, please. You can see into our hearts. You know that we—"

  "Deceivers!" the second cried. "Sister! They are thieves! Thieves! Shelyn, aid us!" And her mouth opened wide.

  The shriek that emerged from the ghost rattled through the whole of Elyana's body and set her trembling. She backed away with little of her own volition, her sword raised in a shaking hand. She knew the fear was irrational, and that it came not from her, yet she could do naught but heed it. The phantom shape drifted up the stairs, one hand cast toward her, its ghostly sleeve billowing in an unseen wind as it came.

  Vallyn scrambled back up the steps, his face pale in panic. Elyana fought her fear and plunged her sword into the advancing spirit. The ghost's face flickered in agony as the elven blade swept through its incorporeal form, and then it was Elyana's turn to feel pain as the slim fingers passed onto and through her upper arm and shoulder.

  She knew a sensation that was somewhere between searing cold and burning heat. Her sword arm ached from deep within; sinew, muscle, and bone felt brittle and withered. Then too there was the irrational fear that left her scattered and nervous.

  Kellius shouted from behind her. "Get back, Elyana!"

  There was nothing she wanted to do more; Elyana retreated two steps, teeth gritted so that she would not scream. The ghost glowered at her and she heard the strum of Vallyn's lute. Kellius pushed past and shoved a gray wand almost directly into the face of the spirit. He uttered a single, sharp word and a blast of freezing energy expanded outward from the tip.

  Elyana felt the cold radiating from the wand even from behind; the dead priestess, exposed to the wand's direct blast, moaned in agony, throwing up hands and arms to shield against an attack that passed directly through her. The energy had clearly harmed her, and she drifted down and away even as Vallyn's own magic went to work. This time he played a swift, intricate pattern. The wounded ghost cried out in pain once more.

  The first of the ghosts had watched, confused. Now she opened her mouth to scream. Kellius's wand blasted a second time as the wizard advanced down the steps, striking both spirits. Ice and snow slicked the lower stair and the stones that lay at their bottom.

  The first spirit shrieked. Elyana did not feel the effect as strongly as the original attack—perhaps she was already scared enough.

  "Not working," Vallyn muttered, striking up a more martial song. Even as his spell faded, one of the ghosts lunged up at Kellius. The sudden change caught the wizard off guard and he brought up the wand too late; he tripped back as he met the phantom's stare, his mouth wide in a scream he was too weak to voice.

  Elyana fought against her terror. They were pinned in—better if they could spread out. She slid around the pillar to her left and dropped to the floor. She landed lightly and came up on Kellius's attacker from the side. The ghost was turning her head as Elyana slashed once through her torso. Elyana pivoted and swung once more, through the spirit's arms and neck. The ghost raised both hands to her face and then broke into dissolving fragments of vapor.

  The other spirit rushed up the stairs toward Kellius only to meet a third blast of frost. She threw back her head in a soundless scream, and then fell into dissipating fragments of mist.

  All that remained of the battle were their own aches and wounds and a light coating of snow and ice that left the stone pavement glittering like a fairyland decoration.

  Elyana quickly took stock of the rest of the room. There was the stairwell, which stretched down another level. There were the walls decorated with images of a slender, lovely woman in simple, flowing garments. In one she played a harp, in another she watched benevolently over a trio of pipers, and in a third, rays of different shades of white and gray beamed from her hands over folk who bowed in gratitude. All the depictions lacked color, of course, but Elyana felt their vibrancy as surely as she saw the gentle curve and slope of the masterfully rendered figures.

  Below the third illustration was a stone byre, and on that byre, arranged in the shape of a man, was an elaborate set of light armor, a lance—and a crown.

  "Blessed Calistria," Vallyn breathed. "There it is." He started to move toward the treasures, but Elyana's hand stopped him.

  "Careful," Elyana said. "There may be unseen protections." She motioned to Kellius.

  The wizard moved forward, taking care not to approach the items too closely. While his fingers and lips moved in a spell, Elyana stepped over to the stairwell and peered down. This was a high tower—what else might it contain?

  "This has to be what we're looking for," she heard Kellius say, and she stepped back over, one eye still cast toward the open stairwell. "Each of these pieces has been fashioned with immense magical energy." The wizard's voice was low with awe. "I've never seen anything like them."

  "Is there any kind of ward?" Vallyn asked him.

  "No," Kellius answered. "These items are simply...sitting here. Well-preserved. Tended by ghosts. For what purpose?"

  "Hmm." Vallyn reached down and tentatively touched the crown. It was fashioned from two thick strips of metal that snaked about each other, one light, one dark. "It seems to me that these poor women were placed here to guard this armor long, long ago. And they've continued to guard it."

  "But why?" Kellius asked. "What's the armor for?"

  "Who is it for, you mean." Vallyn looked thoughtful. "If the star towers were places where the gods reinforced Golarion when it was stitched closed, maybe they're weak points. And should one of the Rough Beast's minions escape from their prison, maybe these are tools to fight them. Look at the symbol on the armor."

  Elyana and Kellius both stepped closer. A swirling sigil was emblazoned into the cuirass, but it was one unfamiliar to her: a swooping shape that evoked a harp—one that was broken.

  "It symbolizes both music and loss," Vallyn said. "I think it's consecrated to both gods together."

  "Why?" the wizard asked.

  "So a cleric of either could wear it, I suppose. Or maybe because a human champion set to fight Rovagug's minions would need the help of both. That's a frightening thought."

  And currently unimportant. Elyana walked to the crown. "Kellius, what does y
our magic tell you of the power of this device?" She wanted to make sure they'd found the right thing.

  "As I've said, armor, crown, and lance all have mighty enchantments. Their power surpasses anything that I've ever seen."

  Elyana nodded once. "Our friends wait, and the dragon will not be long distracted. If we can depart now, we should."

  Vallyn glanced at her quickly. "You don't think we have time to ...scout out the rest?"

  She smiled to herself. Of course—she had promised him a cut. "Take a look below while I pack these things to take with us. But there's gems enough on the floor above."

  Vallyn nodded, humming to himself. He reached out to lightly finger the edge of the crown, his eyes bright with interest, then turned away and headed to the stairs.

  "I'll pack," Elyana told Kellius. "See if he needs help. Urge him along."

  "Of course."

  Elyana knelt beside the treasures. She had heard of magical bags that never ran out of room, but she had never seen one. All she possessed was a small pack. She wrapped the crown in her spare shirt and placed it inside. Then she examined the rest of the gear. There was a breastplate embossed with the broken harp symbol and a complete set of matching scale armor, complete with gauntlets and boots. These she might take with her, but how to transport them? They wouldn't fit in the bag. And how to carry the lance, inscribed with delicate, swirling symbols that resembled musical notes? She reached out to touch it and felt a throb of energy from the dwarven bracelet wrapped around her upper arm. She studied the notes on the haft, deciding that they depicted a simple rising melody. Perhaps she should leave them here, in case a champion should one day come seeking them.

  The bard and the wizard returned only a few minutes later. Vallyn, grinning, patted a bulging packet at his waist. "Diamonds. They were on a wall in the outline of a giant, blood-drenched spike."

  "Lovely. Are you ready to use your transportation spell again?"