by Mel Odom
“He’s nowhere to be found. He set you up.”
Krystarn believed that was the truth as well. She glanced up at the lich, who was hastily casting spells and summoning some of the undead to control the fires. Three of the undead seeking to beat out the flames with their bare hands caught fire themselves, becoming walking torches that spread the threat of loss.
“Get your men,” Krystarn repeated. “Now!”
Chomack called to his trumpeters, who blew the rally call. The battles broke off as the hobgoblin forces sank back toward their chieftain.
Krystarn summoned another spell, then hit the advancing line of undead with the mystic energy. A sheet of fire twenty feet tall formed between the uneven line of hobgoblins and undead. Controlled by their master’s wishes, the undead kept coming forward, immolating themselves on the fire barrier. They twisted and turned away, burning bright.
“You’re going to die a horrible death, drow!” Shallowsoul promised over the roar of the blaze.
“After you,” Krystarn shot back as she raced out of the room. A narrow flight of stairs took them up scarcely three feet, but it opened onto another room. This room was squat and oval in shape. Light from the flaming corpses and burning books threw garish shadows into the room. Smoke rushed into the empty space in great, gray clouds.
Krystarn looked through the three passages open to her, trying to choose the path that would be more valuable for looting. And hoping that there was a way of escape. She cursed the baelnorn for running out on them.
Light flickered from a balcony above her. At first, the drow believed it was a reflection from the fires behind her. Then she saw the light overhead move smoothly along and disappear.
“We are not alone in the library,” Chomack said.
“No.” Krystarn searched the twisting spiral staircases until she spotted the one that took her up to the level where she saw the light. The baelnorn had helped her enter the library, possibly he had done the same for Baylee Arnvold. He could have made a deal with the human ranger. Of anyone in the caverns, Scoontiphp would most know what secrets the library held. She changed her course to the spiral stairway. “Follow me.”
Chomack and his warriors pounded after her. She no longer feared their loyalty. None of them could get out of the library without her.
“Something’s burning.” Cthulad drew in a deep breath.
Baylee silently agreed, and the thought sent a chill through him. All the priceless works of art and knowledge in the library could be at risk. He hesitated at the next staircase the baelnorn plunged up.
No, Xuxa advised. Whatever threat there is to the library, the lich will act against. Including us. And he will be better equipped to handle those threats than you are.
Overcoming his urge to return and trace the smell of smoke, Baylee closed the distance between himself and Scoontiphp. He heard men praying to their gods behind him, and realized that even he had been repeating the prayer for the Mielikki’s grace.
“How much further?” Baylee asked.
“Not far,” the baelnorn answered.
“Have you been here before?”
“No. Never to this part of the library.”
“You’ve been in the library before?”
“Of course. Shallowsoul has always been a threat. And he has been trying to recover the items that went down on Chalice of the Crowns. Not all of them would have been destroyed by the brine and the long years. You found that for him, which was something he hadn’t counted on. It was the last tie holding him to this plane.”
Baylee swung his head, taking in the rooms they passed as they ran down one of the stone hallways. The library honeycombed the underground, deeply entrenched in the bedrock. He caught tantalizing glimpses of displays of the past: vases, pottery, clothing, and armor. And more books than he thought he’d ever see in his life, even more volumes than were gathered in Candlekeep.
He followed Scoontiphp to the right and ran into a large room. Grabbing the lantern hanging from his armor, he flashed it around the room. The ceiling was forty or fifty feet over his head, reached by spiral stairs that whirled around the room. Everywhere he looked were more shelves.
In the center of the room, the lantern light flashed from the swirl of gems caught up in an invisible maelstrom. Baylee walked toward the whirlwind of sapphires, emeralds, rubies, and diamonds, almost hypnotized by their beauty and motion. They moved incredibly fast, their orbits changing constantly.
“This is it,” the baelnorn said. “The center of the spell Shallowsoul has woven to take him from this plane to the next.”
“Are you sure he can take all of this?” Baylee gestured toward the shelves and the rooms. “He can’t possibly—”
“He’s more powerful than you could ever imagine,” Scoontiphp said.
“But if he’s killed,” Calebaan said, coming up to join them, his eyes captured by the swirl of gems, “all of this will remain behind.”
The baelnorn faced the wizard. “If it can be managed.”
“Getting the phylactery will give us an upper hand,” Cordyan said.
“It’s not that easy.” The baelnorn moved closer to the bejeweled whirlwind.
“Where is it?” Baylee asked.
Before the baelnorn could answer, some of the watch members shouted out an alarm.
The drow, Xuxa warned from somewhere overhead.
“Form up ranks!” Cordyan bawled lustily, the coin in her sword’s hilt shining. The members of the watch scattered across the room, seeking shelter behind the free standing shelves of books.
Baylee sheathed his long sword and ripped his bow loose. He grabbed a fistful of arrows from his quiver and nocked one back. He loosed it at the first hobgoblin he saw. An instant later, the fletchings quivered against the hobgoblin’s chest. The creature slowed its all-out rush into the room and dropped to its knees, staring, perplexed, at the shaft buried in its chest.
The darkness hampered the Waterdhavian group, but they rallied quickly, meeting the hobgoblins near the center of the floor. They were outnumbered, but they were trained by Watch practice to work in closed quarters.
The line of hobgoblins broke against the shields of the watch guard. The watch members used the shelves as a skirmish line, striking from behind them.
Baylee leaped to the top of the nearest bookcase, crouching to keep himself as small a target as possible. He pulled another arrow back and put it through a hobgoblin’s throat. Two more arrows sent hobgoblins down with arrows through thigh and arm.
Cthulad was at the epicenter of a mass of razor steel strokes. He moved among his enemies, taking advantage of their own pedestrian training with their weapons to use them against each other.
Calebaan stayed behind a shelf and used the magic he had available to him. When hobgoblins came too close, he whipped the iron-shod staff with grim and deadly efficiency. At least five members of the watch went down under the hobgoblins’ swords, though. Their infravision versus the humans’ normal sight couldn’t help but be a telling factor in the battle.
Baylee moved along the top of the bookshelf, walking easily. A thrown hand axe bit deeply into the wood only inches from his feet. The ranger pulled another handful of arrows from the quiver and took aim at the hobgoblin who’d thrown the axe at him. The line of hobgoblins were almost upon them now, rendering the bow almost useless. Still, he loosed his shafts deliberately, making them count.
A hobgoblin charged the bookcase, aiming himself at Baylee. The ranger kicked the creature in the face, breaking its nose in a wild spatter of blood. Baylee dropped the bow and abandoned the high ground. He ripped his long sword free of its sheath.
Two hobgoblins rushed at him, screaming foul obscenities as they raised their swords. Baylee met their charge with a lightning fast display of sword play. One of the hobgoblins went down almost immediately, its throat sliced open by the long sword. The other hobgoblin fell back for a moment, long enough to draw a hand axe and bring it arcing toward Baylee’s head.
Baylee
reached up with his free hand and swatted the axe away. Using the movement and speed he’d already invested, he whipped around in a full turn, bringing the long sword in a short, powerful blow that cut halfway through the hobgoblin’s chest. The ranger wrenched his sword free of the corpse.
He scouted the terrain, trying to find Cordyan and the baelnorn. Instead, he found Cthulad ringed by hobgoblins only a short distance away. The old ranger’s skill kept his attackers respectful of his sword, but he was still presenting his back to his enemies as he turned about in their midst.
Baylee filled his free hand with throwing knives and threw them with deadly accuracy. Two hobgoblins died before they could turn around, and three others were out of the fight with grievous wounds. Another hobgoblin turned on him, a sword in each hand.
“Now you die, human!” the hobgoblin declared. It swung its swords in a double-attack, well seasoned in two-handed fighting.
Baylee gave ground, batting the blades aside as he reached for the parrying knife. He flipped the spring release loose and caught one of the hobgoblin’s swords in the dagger. He twisted, but was unable to pry the sword from the hobgoblin’s grip. He blocked the other sword, then stepped forward and kicked the hobgoblin in the crotch. The swords came loose then.
Reversing his long sword in his hand and grabbing it by the hilt again, Baylee drove the point through the hobgoblin’s throat and twisted, leaving the creature dying behind him. He glanced over at Cthulad, who was finishing up the last hobgoblin before him.
“For a man who would rather talk than fight, lad,” the old ranger said with a grin, “you’re a remarkable warrior.”
Baylee brushed his shirt sleeve across his face, removing the fresh blood that covered it. “I never said I couldn’t fight, just that I like to figure a way around it where I can. There’s no way for that here.”
“Agreed.” Cthulad took a glance around the large room.
Only a few feet away, a hobgoblin rushed a member of the watch, knocking them both back into the mad whirl of gemstones. They flew off their feet, twisting into the invisible vortex, still wrapped in a death embrace as each sought to kill the other with their daggers. Before the struggle could last more than a few heartbeats, they were sucked into the center of the whirlwind. The gems moved with such speed and force that they penetrated the bodies of man and hobgoblin and left only corpses twisting in the storm winds.
Nevft Scoontiphp stood near the swirl of gems. He thrust his hands out to his sides, his robes snapping and cracking with the pull of the wind. His bone-white hair fluttered around his face. Without warning, lightning jumped from his hands.
A tongue of wild lightning climbed to the top of the room and ignited into a ball of white fire that illuminated the impromptu battlefield. It stayed there, lighting the whole, cavernous room. The rest of the lightning gathered around the whirl of wind and gems that were the lich’s planar spell.
“You have no time, Baylee Arnvold,” the baelnorn shouted grimly. “If we are to succeed here, you have to get the phylactery and destroy it. Hurry.”
“Where is it?” Baylee beat back an attack by a hobgoblin, succeeding in striking a deep wound in the creature’s arm. It fell away, screaming in pain.
“At the top of the stairs,” Scoontiphp answered. “A room is there with a selection of vases. Shallowsoul’s phylactery is an emerald drum the size of a man’s head.”
Baylee stepped aside as another hobgoblin rushed at him with a hand axe raised. He kicked the creature’s shins as it streaked past, tripping the hobgoblin. The creature had only a moment to scream, then it slipped into the spell zone. The hobgoblin’s head exploded when a large diamond slammed through it.
“The drow!” Scoontiphp said. “She overheard about the phylactery!”
Baylee crossed swords with two hobgoblins in his way. Sparks flew from the steel as he blocked and riposted. One of the creatures died in a handful of seconds. He side-stepped the next, gazing up at the circular stairs.
Krystarn Fellhammer ran to the stairs. At first, Baylee thought the drow was going to climb over the railing and start running up. Then he saw her lay a hand against the railing, pause for just a moment to kick her boots off, then start scurrying up the railing levels like a giant spider. Her hands and feet stuck to the stairway railing easily, moving rhythmically from one to the next.
Xuxa! Baylee called.
I’m coming, Baylee! the azmyth bat responded.
The ranger fought his way across the room. The hobgoblins and watch members were totally mixed, separated into pockets of battles. Behind them, Baylee spotted a couple dozen undead in various stages of decomposition.
Blocked by the battles spread out across the room, Baylee vaulted to the top of the nearest bookcase, then pulled himself up and ran across, leaping the gaps.
Xuxa flapped into view beside him. What is going on? she asked.
Baylee pointed at the drow, already nearly halfway up the fifty-foot expanse to the top of the room. She knows where the phylactery is too.
It is up there?
According to Scoontiphp, yes. The bookcase in front of Baylee had been knocked out of line. He wheeled and turned to the left, barely able to make the longer leap. The bookshelf teetered uncertainly under his feet for a moment, then slid over into a slow topple. By that time, the ranger had reached the end of it and made the leap to the next. He glanced over his shoulder, groaning in dismay as the books went tumbling, spines cracking as they slid across the floor and across the corpses.
When he turned back around, one of the biggest hobgoblins he’d ever seen was climbing up the end of the bookshelf coming at him. Baylee stopped, bringing the long sword up in front of him.
The hobgoblin raised his battle axe in both hands, the haft spanning his chest. “I am Chomack, Taker of Dragon’s Teeth, Chieftain of the Sumalich. You will die by my hand.”
Baylee didn’t even think about an introduction. He stepped immediately forward, bringing the long sword over in a skull-splitting sweep.
The hobgoblin chieftain raised his axe, taking the blow on the haft. Sparks leaped from the steel haft. Handling his weapon as if it weighed nothing, the hobgoblin struck back, uncoiling his arm in a backhanded slash.
Baylee narrowly avoided the blow. The axe head raked across the gnomish leathers, slicing them open across the midriff. A flap folded down, exposing his skin beneath as well as the thin line of the cut the blade had done. Parrying another axe blow, Baylee was barely able to get out of the way of it even with the parrying dagger slipping the heavy head slightly.
Moving quickly, Baylee leaped from the bookcase he was on to another free-standing stack, taking care to push at the one he left with his feet. The stack slipped sideways, falling away from him. He’d hoped the hobgoblin would go down with it, that the eight-foot fall would be disabling.
He hadn’t counted on the hobgoblin actually beating him to the next bookcase. He only had one foot down when the hobgoblin swung the battle-axe from side to side. He managed to leap again, feeling the axe slice across the top of his leg.
He had to stretch out to make a landing on the next bookcase. He landed on both feet and his left hand, the handle of the parrying dagger thumping hard against the wooden top. He pushed himself up, tripping the spring blades on the parrying dagger to close them, then sheathing the weapon.
Chomack dived at him.
Baylee turned and fled to the left. Pound for pound, he didn’t want to go against the hobgoblin. He didn’t fight to see who was the better sword. He fought to win, and the hobgoblin had size and strength on his side. Landing on the next bookcase, only three more shelves away from the stair railing where Krystarn Fellhammer was still climbing toward the top of the room, he reached into one of the pockets of the gnomish leather. He brought out a handful of caltrops and scattered them across the top of the bookcase in front of him.
Chomack obviously didn’t see the move. The hobgoblin landed heavily on top of the bookcase, then immediately roared out
in pain, trying to find a way of standing that didn’t cause agony. He drew up a boot that held four caltrops sticking out of the sole. Blood already seeped from the wounds.
Baylee unleashed a blow at once, slashing the hobgoblin across the chest. The force of the contact drove the big humanoid back, sending him roaring onto three of his fellows battling a pair of watch members below. All four hobgoblins crashed to the ground.
Chomack’s battle-axe dropped to the top of the library shelves. Curious about the make and design, Baylee lifted it by the haft, finding it far lighter than any he’d ever hefted. A slight tingling raced through his arm. A hobgoblin reached up for him, wrapping its fingers around one of the ranger’s ankles. Instinctively, Baylee chopped with the battle-axe, amazed at how easily it parted flesh, muscle, and bone. The amputated arm dropped away as the hobgoblin roared in pain.
Using some of the ties on the gnomish armor, he secured the battle-axe, then draped it across his shoulders. The weight was negligible and it held to his back easily.
Turning his attention to the drow, Baylee raced across the remaining bookcases. The dark elf was past the halfway mark on the stairs.
28
Baylee sheathed the long sword and took out the enchanted rope again. Throwing it upward, he said the command word. The magic in the rope caused it to slither up at once. It attached to the tallest staircase railing. With another word, Baylee commanded the rope to knot itself.
Once the knots were in place, the sixty-foot rope shortened to fifty feet, but it was long enough to reach him. He gripped it tightly, then swarmed up the rope. Perspiration soaked the gnomish leathers, and his muscles ached as he pulled.
The unnatural grace Krystarn Fellhammer exhibited unnerved him somewhat. He hadn’t gone over ten feet before the rope beneath him quivered, letting him know someone else had grabbed it. He reached for one of the small throwing knives hidden in the gnomish leather workman’s armor, ready to sacrifice the rope if he had to.
“It’s me,” Cordyan yelled up.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
