Finder's Bane

by Novak, Kate

  The undead creature bent over Joel again and grabbed a fistful of his hair. Joel tried to wriggle away, but the banelich held him fast. “Now we will see what sort of fool your master is,” it said. “I believe he will do anything to purchase your worthless life.”

  The banelich whispered an unknown word, and a black aura surrounded the fingers of its free hand. It brushed aside Joel’s shirt and lay its hand on the bard’s chest near his heart.

  A searing cold tingled over Joel’s flesh, and an agonizing pain shot through his lungs and heart. Joel’s scream was stifled by the rag in his mouth.

  “I need you alive,” the banelich said, “but you must pay for your master’s insolence.

  Unable to respond, Joel glared up at the undead monster with hatred.

  “Yes,” the banelich said, removing its hand. “You think you are strong. Torturing you will be delightful. Then I will trade you for the Hand of Bane and still keep your master’s stone.” The banelich stood up. “I must write your precious Jedidiah a note. When I return, we will journey to the astral plane.”

  The banelich picked up the lantern and strode $ leaving Joel in the dark. Joel heard the clang of a metal door, then silence.

  The chill in Joel’s chest was unbearable. He laid his bound hands over his heart, desperate for warmth. He couldn’t let the banelich use him to force Jedidiah’s surrender of the Hand of Bane. He had to escape, but how? What could he do?

  It took him several moments to gather his wits, but finally it occurred to him that first he needed to escape the pain, and to do that he had to cast a spell. That, in turn, meant he must be able to speak. It took him what seemed like an interminably long time to push the rag out of his mouth with his tongue, but he finally succeeded.

  He gasped for air, then hastily murmured a healing prayer. Warmth spread across his chest and the pain subsided. Now he was able to think more clearly.

  He needed to free himself from his bonds. He wriggled over beside the go-zu-oni’s body and, in the dark, began feeling around the creature for a weapon. Joel could find no sharp-edged weapon on the monster. Its body was colder than its armor.

  Metal armor can be heated, Joel thought, remembering the spell Jedidiah had taught him. Concentrating on the go-zu-oni’s spiked helmet, Joel whispered the words that would warm the metal to a searing red heat.

  The stench from the go-zu-oni’s hair was awful, but Joel managed to burn away the sisal rope at his wrists and ankles without burning his own flesh too badly. Then he crawled in the direction of the door.

  He found the door in the dark. There was no light coining from under or over the door or through the keyhole. Joel put his ear to the door. No sound came from beyond. With no clue to guide him, the bard’s only choice was to risk it.

  Joel stood up and turned the door handle. The handle turned easily. The door opened soundlessly. Only darkness lay beyond.

  With his heart pounding, Joel stepped through the doorway. There was no alarm. He slid along the wall until he spotted a light, not a red light like the lich’s lantern emitted, but a bright magical light with a blue tinge. Joel followed the glow.

  Suddenly he found himself in the streets of the palace, surrounded by unrecognizable buildings. The blue light came from an iron lamppost. Joel began running through the streets without a clue where he was heading but determined to get as far as possible from the banelich.

  He heard footsteps following behind him, and he ran faster. He missed a step down into a courtyard and landed sprawled out on his hands and knees. The footsteps grew closer.

  Joel shouted and rolled over. Shishi’s servant, the old woman in orange pants and robe, stood over him, hissing furiously with her finger over her lips.

  Joel grew instantly quiet. The old woman helped him to his feet, then motioned for him to follow. The bard hurried after her as she led him through a maze of passages and streets until they had once again reached Shishi’s garden.

  Joel rushed into Walinda’s room, but the priestess was out cold, sleeping off the effects of the beverage she’d served him. Joel could smell it all about her. She didn’t appear to have had anything to do with her master’s plan, but she must have known the banelich hadn’t gone to the astral plane—unless the undead creature had left, then returned to arrange Joel’s abduction.

  Joel turned away from the priestess in disgust. He would question her later. Right now he felt sick and exhausted. The old servant stood outside Walinda’s door. On either side of her stood two lion-dogs, not spirits or metallic statues, but flesh-and-blood beasts with sharp teeth and rippling muscles.

  “Rest,” the servant said. “You have nothing to fear now. You will not be disturbed again.”

  Joel bowed his thanks and slid into his own room. He fell to the mat and was asleep within minutes.

  Jedidiah slid Joel’s door open as the Rebel Bard was finishing dressing. “Good morning,” the god greeted him with a look of concern on his face. “I understand you had some excitement here last night.”

  Joel nodded. He told Jedidiah all he remembered about his abduction. Jedidiah’s face colored with anger as Joel spoke, but the god listened without comment until Joel finished.

  “I was a fool not to expect some treachery from the banelich,” Jedidiah said. “I felt safe leaving you alone in Shishi’s quarters. Poor Shishi is beside himself with shame that this happened to you while you were his guest. He’s called in several favors. The powers-that-be are turning the palace inside out searching for the banelich. The go-zu-oni are desperate to prove their honor in the wake of the shame that one of them was bribed. They’re also eager to avenge their comrade’s death. If the banelich hasn’t fled to the astral plane by now, he’s in big trouble. As for Walinda—”

  “I’m not sure Walinda had anything to do with it,” Joel said. “She seemed really drunk last night … but maybe she’s just a good actress. Maybe she brought that liquor over intending to get me drunk so the go-zu-oni could carry me off.”

  The liquor was my fault,” Jedidiah admitted. “I asked Shishi to provide her with some. I sensed she would be amenable to a little bottled warmth. I hoped she might be having a crisis of faith and would admit it to you in a weak moment.”

  Joel shook his head. “No such luck. She wanted someone to stand beside her in awe of Bane’s power, to share her triumph with a little celebration. I suggested that Bane—the real thing, not the lich—might be a desperate coward, and she stalked off. If the door didn’t slide, she would probably have slammed it behind her.”

  “You don’t think maybe she overreacted for a reason?” Jedidiah asked.

  “Because she knew the banelich was listening?” Joel asked.

  “No,” Jedidiah replied. “Because she secretly suspects that Bane may not be all she hopes for.”

  Joel had to mull that one over for a minute. “I’m not sure,” he said finally. “I just can’t understand why she tolerates the banelich’s treatment of her.”

  “If it really holds the essence of Bane, the banelich makes her feel strong, despite its abuse of her. When we first met the banelich, remember how it painwracked Jas and Holly, but you managed to stand against its power?”

  Joel nodded with understanding. “I looked at you and felt strong,” he said. “But I didn’t know you were a god then.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jedidiah said. “You took strength from my presence. Walinda would feel the same in her god’s presence.”

  “Maybe she just thinks she’s stronger,” Joel said. “She mentioned that Bane couldn’t grant her spells when the banelich was in the astral plane,” Joel said. “You don’t suppose that Bane has never been the one to grant her spells, do you? Isn’t there some spell that allows a priest to give spells to someone who isn’t a priest?”

  “Yes,” Jedidiah said. “But that still leaves the question of who’s giving the banelich its own spells.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Joel said.

  “Walinda’s still sleeping. Let�
�s go out in the garden for breakfast,” Jedidiah said.

  Joel followed Jedidiah into the garden. On the little island in the middle of the pond, someone had set a tray with bread and honey and milk and berries. After they had eaten, Joel related in detail his conversation with Walinda. When he mentioned Walinda’s comment about the banelich keeping its heart in a silver box, Jedidiah sat straight up and his eyes widened. A low whistle escaped his lips.

  “I never imagined just how crazy the banelich really was,” Jedidiah said.

  “Why? What does the silver box mean?” Joel asked.

  “It’s his phylactery,” Jedidiah explained. “It holds a lich’s immortality. A lich usually keeps it hidden carefully away. If you destroy a lich’s body, it reforms in a day or so around the phylactery. The only way to really kill the lich is to destroy its phylactery. By carrying it with him, the lich is taking a tremendous risk. If he’s killed, he won’t be able to come back.”

  “Then it would be easy to kill him?” Joel asked excitedly.

  Jedidiah shook his head. “A phylactery explodes when it’s destroyed. Kills anyone near it. It would definitely destroy the finder’s stone. The lich is so arrogant about its power, it doesn’t believe anyone would dare attack it.”

  “Or it could just be too paranoid to give the phylactery to Walinda,” Joel supposed.

  Jedidiah nodded. “It wants her completely enslaved to its will. We were talking about the strength Walinda feels when she’s near the lich. I think her longing for that strength is one of the reasons the banelich insisted on sending her with us,” the older priest said. “Despite the talk about her ‘supervising” us, it has to know she’s no match for the two of us should we decide to take the upper hand. It’s relying on her desire for Bane’s presence to strengthen her loyalty. Of course, it’s playing a dangerous game, risking her soul with heretics like us.”

  “Why?” Joel asked.

  “Not being a god, the banelich can’t feel it, but the strengthening cuts both ways. Walinda can strengthen Bane with her devotion. Without it, the resurrected god will be weakened.”

  Joel looked up at Jedidiah curiously. “Do you feel strengthened by my devotion?”

  Jedidiah nodded. “They say that every time someone mentions a god’s name, whether in curse or in prayer, he is strengthened. Without his name being spoken, a god fades. But the prayers of the faithful, particularly the prayers of a priest, are much more important. And when those prayers come from the god’s chosen priests, that brings a special power.” Jedidiah paused and looked out over the water. “That’s why I had to stand up to the banelich in the desert when you called on me,” he continued, “even though you used my false name. The strength you made me feel was something my heart couldn’t deny, even though my reason told me I was taking a tremendous risk.”

  “Didn’t you care about Jas or Holly?” Joel asked with a stab of irritation.

  “Yes, but not enough to risk you. That’s why I’m going to Sigil with you, because I can’t bear to risk having you going in alone.”

  “How will you be able to do that?” Joel asked, suddenly uneasy, remembering that Jedidiah had said he had a reckless trick that might get him into the City of Doors.

  “First do me a favor. Sing me the tulip song.”

  Joel’s scrunched his face up in confusion.

  “Humor me,” Jedidiah asked.

  The Rebel Bard sighed. He cleared his throat. Then he sang, no longer hesitating over the oddness of the tune or the words. He sang the song with confidence from beginning to end.

  “Excellent,” Jedidiah said. He stepped out of the pavilion and pulled the saurial’s half of the finder’s stone from his boot.

  Jedidiah uttered some words completely unknown to Joel. Then he began singing a scale, each note perfect and distinct, his voice rising over and over again. As he sang, his body began to steam, just as it had when Joel had watched him store his power into his own half of the finder’s stone. Now, instead of blue, the steam was a myriad of colors, ranging through the whole spectrum, as if a rainbow were flowing from his body and being sucked up by the stone.

  Joel watched in fascination until Jedidiah swayed and nearly fell forward into the pond. The young bard leapt up and steadied his god with his hands on his arms. Jedidiah looked exhausted. He also looked old-not as old as when Joel had first met him, but older than he had appeared moments ago. There was something else odd about him. Somehow, to the young priest, he no longer seemed like Finder.

  ‘Jedidiah,” Joel asked in a frightened whisper, “what did you just do?”

  “Since gods can’t get into Sigil, I stopped being a god,” the old man explained. “Remember when I told you that the stolen half of the finder’s stone holds the power that give me the godly abilities to sense what’s going on around me, and around you, and the ability to teleport and to cast any spell?”

  Joel nodded.

  Jedidiah held up the finder’s stone. “Well, now this half of the stone contains the power to use all the abilities that I had left—all my remaining godly endowments: my ability to grant you spells, my ability to shapeshift, even my immortality. Now I should be able to get into Sigil… I hope.”

  “But—but—” Joel stammered, “how could you be so reckless? What if something happens to you? You could die!”

  “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Jedidiah said. “But if it does, then this can help you to resurrect me. Just as the Hand of Bane can restore Bane, this stone will restore me. You and Copperbloom must take the stone to the astral plane, find my body, and sing the song for my rebirth.”

  “Why couldn’t you just let me go to Sigil alone with Walinda?” Joel asked in exasperation. He pulled his hands way from Jedidiah’s arms. “Don’t you think I can handle the job?”

  “Joel, there are going to be protections around the Hand of Bane. Some guardian, probably several. That’s why Bane needs us to get it. Why risk his priestess’s life when he can risk mine or yours? And besides that danger, you’d still have Walinda to contend with. She’s a vicious, selfish woman, determined to have her way. She maybe without spells, but she is by no means powerless. She would arrange some way to keep you for herself whether you were willing or not. Or if Bane requested it, she would relish sacrificing you, in the most horrible manner imaginable, to gain his favor.”

  “But you’re mortal now. You’re taking the same risks,” Joel argued.

  Jedidiah’s shoulders sagged like a beaten man. Ten years ago, when I became a god, all I really wanted was immortality. Well, immortality plus eternal youth. I hadn’t planned on becoming a god. It just happened. I’m not saying I wasn’t pleased, but until that moment in the desert when you called on me, I’d never really understood what being a god meant. Joel, there isn’t any point in my being a god without you. Not to me”

  Joel looked down, embarrassed by Jedidiah’s confession.

  “Anyway, now we travel just as friends,” Jedidiah said. “I hope.”

  Joel looked up and smiled. “Always,” he said.

  Jedidiah held out the finder’s stone. “You have to carry this now. I trust you to do a better job holding on to it than I did holding on to the other half.”

  Joel took the stone. It felt warm to the touch. Inside, a tiny light seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Joel tucked the stone into his shirt. He and Jedidiah spent the rest of the morning singing songs in the garden.

  Walinda woke shortly before it was time for them to leave. If she was surprised to see Joel, she didn’t show it. At Jedidiah’s suggestion, they made no mention of the abduction.

  Shishi accompanied them to the Hall of Confused Dreams, where they would find the portal to Sigil. Walinda was quiet and sullen, as if she really were suffering from a hangover.

  As they approached the door to Room , Jedidiah drew out the key he’d bribed from Miss Pan Ho. He unlocked the door. The room was empty save for a shimmering gray portal against one wall.

  Shishi blinked by t
he doorway. “Thanks for the songs, Finder,” the spirit said. “Er—priest of Finder,” he added quickly.

  Walinda, her eyes closed, appeared oblivious to the exchange.

  “Farewell, Shishi. Until we meet again,” Jedidiah said, bowing to the lion-dog spirit.

  Shishi twinkled once, then zipped away.

  Jedidiah shut the door and locked it, leaving the key on the floor just before the door. Then he turned about to face the magical portal to Sigil. He motioned for Walinda to step through first.

  The priestess disappeared in the portal as if she had been swallowed by quicksand.

  “Let me go through next,” Jedidiah said, “just so I’m sure you’re not there alone with Walinda, in case I can’t get through.”

  Joel nodded. Jedidiah stepped through the portal and disappeared just as Walinda had.

  The Rebel Bard took a deep breath and followed his Mend through the doorway into the city of Sigil.

  Fifteen

  Sigil

  The three questing adventurers found themselves on a sandstone-paved street between two rows of dingy, cramped stone houses with iron bars covering the windows. The wall from which they emerged was covered with a collage of tattered paper sheets, each imploring the reader to purchase some item or other for reasons of health, wealth, or love. Joel placed his hand on the wall and discovered that it was solid from this side. That was just as well, since the chaos all around them had no place in the Palace of Judgment. People and creatures of all sorts bustled through the streets on foot or in sedan chains, or even a few in carriages drawn by haggard, long-eared ponies. None of the passersby seemed to take any care to avoid any of the other living obstacles in their way. They simply shoved through the crowd or ran it down.

  More disturbing than the rudeness of its citizens was the city’s air. While the air of the Outlands had seemed to Joel fresh and new, the air of Sigil tasted used and thin, as if breathed by a million lungs and tainted by a hundred diseases. Scents of every sort assailed Joel’s nose: food, sweat, sewage, smoke … mostly smoke. The light fog hanging in the air was gray with smoke. Joel found it necessary to breathe twice as fast as normal. Jedidiah tried to take a deep breath and was caught up in a coughing fit.