Traitor's Luck
Chapter VII
By Northstar
The chamber most recently dubbed as the chapel for the purpose of storing Galadrea's body was now filled with all of the dead diviner's and Jareth's apprentices. Many were talking in loud voices, complaining on how everything was going wrong, why wasn't Jareth around and just where in the nine hells he disappeared to. closest to the bier stood three figures in solemn council.
"Hur, it's obvious that Master Galadrea's body has gone to where her spirit was taken," the smallest of the three observed. Brodhurst, a young dwarf who had been one of Galadrea and Jareth's most talented apprentices, had, like Gala, made the lower planes and matters of interplanar travel his business. Even Gala and Jareth acknowledged Brodhurst as one of the most notable planar scholars to exist. And for Jareth to admit something like that out loud was a once-in-a-lifetime occurence.
Natela nodded her head slowly. "It makes sense, Indros. During my time in Menzoberranzan, Matron Baenre, the old one, kept the soul of the first dwarf-king of Mithril Hall a prisoner in a talisman. When it was shattered during the time of troubles, the dwarf emerged whole and healthy, though confused. As soon as his spirit had regained its sense of self, the body had disappeared," she expounded as many of the other apprentices stopped talking to listen to her in morbid interest.
"If that's so, then we know that wherever my sister is, she's healthy and alive," Indros realized with a sense of relief that removed the despairing cloud around his soul.
"Yes, well, I wouldn't count on her being alright. Our teacher is still trapped in a dimensional pocket, after all!" Brodhurst reminded them. As faces fell amongst the apprentices, Indros began to chuckle, then outright laughed.
"You really don't know my sister! You've only seen her when she was your teacher. If she still is the woman I remember, then right now Gala's madder than a minotaur with a sting in his arse! And a thousand times more dangerous, to boot!" Indros explained, smirking in devilish delight.
"What's this about Master Galadrea's body?!" A voice rang out from back near the door. The other apprentices made way for a very bleary and grumpy-looking Joshuan. "Indros, what's happened?" he asked desperately.
"It appears my dear sister's body has rejoined her soul, since she's evidently alive and well," the half-elf informed the just-awakened man. Yawning, Joshuan took the mug of hot brew that was passed to him. Cupping his large hands desperately around the cup like a drowning victim to a rescuer, Joshuan swallowed the nasty-looking drink all at once. The effect was almost instantaneous as his eyes lost their sleepy appearance.
"Now, that's good stuff! Why didn't we have this around before?" he asked, a little more goodnatured. Chuckles swept through the room. Joshuan, his eyes bright with the light of inspiration, turned to the other three members of what everyone had dubbed the interim-ruling council. "We've only been focusing on Galadrea's spirit when we were searching, and limiting ourselves to the Abyss, correct?" he asked rhetorically.
Natela and Brodhurst nodded. "Exactly. I take it you have another idea, Josh?" the dwarf asked his old fellow trainee, for the two had studied together, Joshuan mainly under Jareth, Brodhurst under Galadrea.
"Of course! Natela, you said that those nasty little prisons encompass a small pocket of the border Etheal plane, correct?" Joshuan continued, while the others all stared at him in confusion.
"Well, yes," Natela slowly said. "We know this because the prisons disturb the fabric of the plane and---OH!" she exclaimed as she realized unhappily where Joshuan was going with the idea. Unfortunately, the damage was done and there was no way she would be able to cover this plan up or disrupt it...at least, not without getting caught.
Brodhurst also picked up on the idea. "And you thing we should search for such areas of disturbance in the Ethereal plane and work on destroying the prison from there!" he triumphly announced. Indros's eyes lightened up to their familiar sky-blue.
"Brodhurst, Joshuan, you two are geniuses! With so many of us searching, it shouldn't take long to find the dimensional prison and free Galadrea. But...what happens then?" Gala's brother asked, his hope momentarily dimming at the last thought.
"If it works like these things typically do, the crystal will shatter, freeing Galadrea wherever it was that the crystal was located," Brodhurst continued, then saw Indros's point.
"But if the crystal is in the Abyss...I see your point, Indros..." the dwarf conceded. However, Joshuan smirked in triumph.
"Ah, but I have left out one peice of news I discovered!" Triumphly, he held up a piece of a scroll. "I found this in his Majesty's study, by the spell books!" Joshuan announced to the room at large. The whispering and mutterings died down again.
"This scroll details a marilith by the name of Heratona, and her whereabouts in the Abyss. It seems that she collects the souls of mages so as to feed off of their powers to enhance her own status. It's obvious where the crystal pendant is, and now I believe that the King has gone to retrieve it!" Joshuan finished, and almost immediately cheers erupted amongst all assembled, except for Natela.
"Then, my friends, we should start looking for the prison on the Ethereal plane, and hope that King Jareth makes it to Galadrea in time to help her escape from this Heratona's fortress!" Indros announced. "Let's get to it!"
With a renewed sense of hope, all except for the four members of the 'council' left the room in order to get to work. As they stood there, one on each side of the bier, Joshuan shook his head.
"You make a good leader, Indros. They respect you," he commented, respect on his face.
Natela gently put a hand on Indros's arm. "Joshuan's right, love. You have really taken charge...I like that in a man."
"Aye, you've motivated them all right, kid!" Brodhurst admitted, a sour note in his voice. "Which leaves you in the job of running this kingdom while the rest of us search!" the dwarf chuckled ruefully. "I wouldn't wish it on anyone!"
"Oh noooo..." Indros groaned. "Why me?"
For the first time since the kidnapping, truly merry laughter rang out through the castle, bringing hope to all who heard it.
Jareth relfexively winced as the two lesser demondand guards passed by his hiding place. Heratona's castle guards were not the easily trickable manes that made up the bulk of her army, bu lesser demons from the plane of Tarterus. Though stupid, they were extremely observant and brutally bloodthirsty. The Goblin King counted himself lucky he had made it this far without running into any of the marilith's minions.
Now, why does that worry me? Jareth thought as a feeling of unease swept through him, leaving him cold as stone. It's TOO easy...oh shit...
As if someone had read his mind and decided to throw all Hell at the mortal intruder, the passageway was suddenly filled with the light of numerous gate spells, spilling forth all sorts of lesser demons. And the majority of them were looking right square at him.
"I don't suppose we can talk this over?" Jareth muttered as he drew his sword. As one, the ravenous horde of infernal beasts swarmed him, venom-dripping talons reaching eagerly for his pale flesh, screams of horrendous delight at having living prey. With a viper-quick slice, one of those demonic hands was severed.
"Didn't think so!" Jareth replied to his own question as he laid into the demonic horde. With all the grace that came with being one of the Faye aristocracy Jareth easily dodged the clumsy grasps of the fiends.
Effortlessly sliding through openings, Jareth's sword, having been enchanted as part of a series of experiments a few years ago, made short work of the toughest of beastial hides. The demons couldn't even touch the Goblin King as he moved through their ranks like a dancer performing a well-rehearsed scene.
As if sensing danger behind him, Jareth smoothly whirled and launched a freezing globe at one demondand that had snuck behind him. Parrying yet another set of vicious claws, Jareth kicked out and shattered the frozen fiend. Yet still the creatures kept coming.
If this keeps up, they'll wear me out, Jareth grimly realized, and in that moment he knew that that was their plan. They weren't going to kill him, but seriously wound him enough that Heratona would be able to take his soul...and there was nothing he would be able to do about it.
With a burst of anger and desperation, Jareth found his second wind and went fully on the offensive, seeking to end the confrontation as soon as possible. Scores of fiends were destroyed in the next few minutes as Jareth became a living weapon of icy death, slaying fiends with both ice spells and enchanted steel alike.
Then, he saw it--an opening in the mob. Risking a bit of his concentration, the Faye swordsman called for a single word that encased the nearest fiends in ice, and allowed him breathing space. Cat-quick, he slid through the opening, taking several wicked slices from talons in the process. Then, he was out of the melee, the screams of the demonds behind him deafening.
Without stopping to look, Jareth raced through an ornately-carved archway, slamming the doors closed behind him. Sword and spell at the ready, he turned to observe the chamber...
Shocked to the core, Galadrea tried to recover from the onslaught of images that Heratona had showed her of Jareth's past.
*Are you shocked little mortal? I hope so!* came the shrill, cruel laughter of an eternal voice. *You see, your king isn't the person you thought he was! Did he tell you he cares for you? Ah, I can see he did! The Goblin King cares for no-one and nothing that is not useful. He would have tossed you aside one day, mortal. But you know this!*
Galadrea's face froze in anger. The Jareth she knew acted nothing like the creature that had led the forces of Darkness in that place, Barovia. True, he was still arrogant and cruel at times, but he had never shown himself to be the evil fiend that Heratona had shown him as. Though taking an enemy down with him would fit into Jareth's personality, Gala knew that the Jareth she loved was nothing like the malicious creature of the past.
"You are wrong, Heratona. That is one aspect of being mortal that creatures like you can never understand- the ability to change, to grow and learn," she stated calmly, sure of herself and her obswervations. "Maybe Jareth was that malicious all those centuries ago, but that is not the man that exists now. You know nothing, marilith!"
*HOW DARE YOU?!* came the angry scream that vibrated the confining facets of the prison. As Gala shrank back and tried to ignore the painful lashes of energy that ran through her, she caught a gleam out of the corner of her eye. Raising her head slightly, she saw the figure of one of her old students...Brodhurst, she remembered vaguely through the pain.
I've got to let them know I'm here! Gala realized through the torture. A though suddenly came into her mind. Why not let the pain that was being inflicted on her take its natural course? With that, Galadrea stopped ignoring the racking agony that was her spirit, and accepted every drop of pain that could be wrung from the assault.
Galadrea's scream was audible throughout the entire Border Ethereal.
The agonizing shriek cut Brodhurst and the rest of the searchers deep into their hearts. As one, Joshuan and the others magically homed in on Brodhurst's magical signature and planewalked to the source of the heart-shattering cry. There, it was plain to see, was a glassy disturbance in the Ethereal matter. Yet, it was as if it was unstable, for the jewel-like facets were vibrating, allowing the mages to see into the prison. What Joshuan saw almost killed him.
Writhing in the spacial void created by the facets was Master Galadrea, who no longer had a voice to scream with. Even from where they stood in horror Joshuan and Brodhurst could see the evil force that was lashing their old teacher.
"Damn it, what are we waiting for?!" Brodhurst shouted, and at the cries of outrage, all began to add their powers together into one powerful stream of magical energy that would shatter the prison.
Hearts and minds joined together, adding the separate magical essences into one great pot. Mentally reaching into the pot, Joshuan and Brodhurst began to weave the magical forces into a single, destructive force. The magic that ran through all involved was like liquid lightning, both ecstasy and torment combined into one. Then, it was complete.
Guided by Brodhurst, and supported by his friends, Joshuan launched magical bolt into the dimensional prison encasing Galadrea. Time slowed to nothing, and a dead silence rang out as the magical force cascaded into the faceted prison.
The crystal walls shattered, and time sped up.
The foolish half-elf was finally asleep, Natela thought in disgust. Insisting on staying with him, Natela had not participated in the effort to locate Gala's prison on the Ethereal. It was bad enough she had provided the opinion that such a rescue was possible, and she'd be damned if she was going to aid one little bit in rescuing that bitch. Indros Solardin, you are a fool...
In the dead of the Underground's night, Natela Vandree donned her piwafwi, the midnight-black enchanted Drow cloak that allowed the dark race to go unseen by non-drow eyes. Silently, the treacherous drow priestess made her way past the magical laboratory, and slipped down the dark corriders of the castle into the Escher room.
With the inherent Drow power of levitation, navigating the room proved no challenge, and Natela disappeared into the dark heart under the Labyrinth. Landing lightly, Natela found that her co-conspirator was already waiting.
"Did you bring it?" the dark priest once known as Petya asked ominiously.
Shaking her lustrious white curls, Natela gave the priest a seductive smile. "Did you doubt I would keep my word? Of course I brought the amulet," she returned, taking a simple but elegant piece of jewelry from the inner lining of her cloak. Silently grinning, she held it out.
"You are Drow, after all," Petya dryly countered, to which Natela bestowed an evil smirk.
"Too true. Now, lets begin, shall we?" she asked impatiently. At the answering nod, Natela took her place on one side of the ancient obsidian alter, while the dark priest moved to the other.
"Lloth! Goddess of the Drow, Queen of Spiders, Lady of Chaos, hear me! I, Natela Vandree, high priestess of House Vandree call upon your divine power to open a gate from Menzoberranzan, greatest of your cities, to this world called Underground. Lloth, answer your servant!" Natela cried, throwing her hands above her head, the five-headed snake whip at her side wriggling in anticipation. Slowly, dark light began to emanate from the black alter.
"Bane! Unholy God of Violent Death, the Feared Destroyer, your servant Petya calls forth your diviner power to open a gate from this world called Underground to Menzoberranzan, greatest of the cities of the Drow. Bane, answer your servant!" Petya intoned solemnly, bitterness and hatred vying with the love of destruction in his one clear voice.
"Powers of Darkness, answer us! Open the gate from Menzoberranzan, city of the Drow, to the world called Underground!" The two servants of darkness cried in unison, each channelling the power of their evil dieties into the amulet of portal summoning.
Suddenly, the alter burst with dark lightening, spiderwebs engulfing the amulet as at the far end of the forgotten temple a black gateway opened. Silently, as if mere shadows, shapes poured through the open portal between the realms. Slender black-clad figures moved into the room, taking up guard positions.
Almost immediately, the blue light of a driftdisk came through the interplanetary door, at the top of which sat Matron A'glenar Vandree, matriarch of house Vandree. The takeover of the Labyrinth, and through it the entire Underground, had begun.