Chapter Fourteen: Wide Awake In Dreamland
It was evening when we entered the harbor, and we were attacked by vampires almost as soon as we disembarked. Saemon Havarian had been aware of it in advance, and led us into the ambush, meaning that he had been compromised before we sailed; a worrying development. Not catastrophic, as we had not revealed anything of our abilities to him, but somewhat disturbing.
Not as disturbing as the identities of the vampires. One of them had attacked us, and been slain by us, in the Athkatla streets at night. One of them was Valen, the girl who had brought us Bodhi's initial request for a meeting, and she had been human then; as she had appeared to be Bodhi's devoted servant, the turning probably hadn't even been involuntary.
The third vampire was Safana.
We killed them without difficulty. One of them managed to put Yoshimo under her thrall but was slain before she could give him any orders; he did not attack us, or them, but just stood inactive until Viconia dispelled it. Saemon Havarian teleported away before we could ask him any pointed questions. The vampires, once forced into their gaseous forms, escaped into sewer grates and we could not follow.
The attack seemed to make little sense. If my idea that Irenicus had lured us here deliberately, planning to have me facilitate his escape in the course of my rescuing Imoen, and then to recapture me, why would he want us killed on arrival? After puzzling over it for a while, I came to the conclusion that it had been a test; feeling us out, assessing our capabilities, and gaining information they could use in planning our final defeat. It wasn't going to affect our own plans; we had a mission, and would have to continue with it no matter what.
The Shadow Thief representative, Sime, had visited Brynnlaw briefly in the past and had a contact there. She told us that she could not tell us how to gain access to the Spellhold Asylum but she knew a man who could; a man named Sanik, who could often be found in the settlement's tavern, the Vulgar Monkey. Unfortunately, she told us, she had made enemies as well as friends on her previous visit, and wanted to stay well clear of anywhere she might be recognized. She went with us as far as the path from the settlement to Spellhold and said she would stay there, away from the town, and meet us there once we had found the way to pass the lethal wards that barred the path further on.
We left her there, returned to the town, and explored it thoroughly before looking for Sanik. The pirates who infested the place were an unprepossessing lot; the author of Moniské in the Pirate Isles had taken a lot of dramatic license and portrayed them as far more dashing and glamorous, and far less filthy and drunken, than they were in real life. We were attacked a couple of times, neither of which ended badly for us or well for the pirates, and saw a couple of duels between pirates presumably from rival crews. A pickpocket took a small purse that I kept handy for minor purchases such as food, containing only ten danter, but the criminal was a small boy, who claimed that he would be beaten if he returned without having stolen anything, and I let him keep the coin. Our significant valuables were stowed far more securely.
Later we met the young boy's sister, a young woman named Ginia. Brynnlaw, she related, had been a fishing village, rather than a pirate haven, until a Pirate King named Desharik and taken over the town. Her father had objected, and tried to take back his stolen property, but such reclamation was a crime to pirates and he had been executed and his two children given to Chremy as compensation. Chremy had forced her into prostitution, and her brother into acting as a pickpocket, and they were beaten if they didn't come up with enough money to satisfy him. They knew a smuggler, a man named Calahan, who would help them escape the island – but only for a price, and they hadn't dared keep back enough from Chremy to pay Calahan's fee.
"Calahan of Ulgoth's Beard?" Jaheira queried. "I know the man. A decent enough fellow, although not selfless enough to do good deeds without expecting payment."
"I met him too," I said. "I didn't see you when we were there."
"We sailed from Ulgoth's Beard to an island of werewolves," Jaheira said. "It was… not a pleasant adventure. I will say no more."
We found Calahan, and paid him two hundred danter for Ginia and her brother's passage off the island. We found Chremy, and told him we were taking the two away from him; he objected, violently but briefly, and then we went back to Ginia and told her that her passage was paid and Chremy was dead.
There was a merchant in the town, running a shop and a small smithy, and we sold off a few things we had picked up from dead pirates. Chremy had been wearing an ornate medallion and I thought we could get a few coins for it; the shopkeeper declined to purchase it, saying it was an emblem that identified employees of something called Galvena's Festhall, and I decided to keep it for the time being in case it came in useful. Anywhere that employed someone like Chremy couldn't be a nice place.
The Vulgar Monkey tavern, when we went in, wasn't a nice place either. The customers were almost all either pirates or prostitutes. The innkeeper was surly and taciturn. Only a couple of the customers stood out from the crowd and I thought it worth asking one, a man in the robes of a mage, if he was Sanik. Even if he wasn't, I thought it more likely that he would be more forthcoming than the tight-lipped innkeeper had been.
He seemed wary, for some reason, but admitted that he was Sanik. I introduced myself and he relaxed somewhat. I asked about entry to Spellhold and he replied that he would be glad to tell us… if we did something for him first. He was about to give further details when another customer suddenly put an envenomed arrow into his back and Sanik dropped dead on the spot.
The killer seemed about to loose at us, too, although he didn't seem bothered about any other customers having witnessed the murder, and so we killed him. The innkeeper was annoyed at Sanik's killing having been carried out in his tavern, which was supposed to be a neutral space where quarrels from outside were not permitted, and talked freely when we asked him about it.
Sanik, he told us, had fallen for, and married, a girl who worked in Galvena's Festhall. 'Festhall' was a euphemism for 'brothel', in this case, and Sanik's bride Claire was, like Giana, a prostitute. Galvena considered the girls as her property and Sanik taking Claire away as theft. His punishment had been assassination, Claire's was likely to be harsh but non-lethal; Galvena would not want to lose the income she could bring in. I guessed that the task Sanik had been about to ask of us would have been to rescue Claire. Either the timing had been coincidental or else the killer had wanted to prevent Sanik from giving us the mission.
Sanik was dead, and his lips sealed, but perhaps not permanently. We had a Rod of Resurrection, with nine charges remaining, and if our assault on Spellhold, and any subsequent confrontation with Irenicus and probably Bodhi, left us requiring all nine charges then there would be none of us left alive to operate the Rod. I had Viconia use it on Sanik and return him to life.
My guess had been correct. Rescuing Claire had, indeed, been the task he would have required of us. He no longer held us to that, as our raising him from the dead was more than sufficient payment, but I was happy to do it anyway. Sanik told us that the Cowled Wizards had a representative in town, one Perth the Adept, who kept a wardstone to deactivate the asylum's lethal wards. Desharik, the Pirate King, had one too and used it to send insane pirates to the custody of the asylum. Of course, standing up to the Pirate King was proof in itself of insanity, and most of those he sent there were simply people who had crossed him. We could either deal with Perth the Adept or convince Desharik that we were insane. There was no way that I was going to willingly put us into the power of the Pirate King and so we would try approaching Perth the Adept. First, however, we would rescue Claire.
In order to enter Galvena's Festhall we could either go in as paying customers, convince the guards we were new employees with the aid of the employee medallion I had taken from the dead Chremy, or just mount an open assault. I felt I would make an unlikely customer and decided to try passing myself off as a new guard. We could always fall back on an assault as a second option if the deception didn't work.
As it happened, we ended up using all three options. We talked to a male courtesan outside the Festhall and he offered to take me in, posing as a customer, and then use the guard medallion to move about more freely once inside. Once in his room, he suggested that we persuade the cook to slip a sleeping draught, which he had procured to use in his own future escape attempt, to the guards to make our movement easier still. We followed his suggestion.
The cook was easy to persuade, as was the serving girl who took food and drink to the guards, as they too wanted to escape from Galvena. The guards fell for it, drank the sleeping draught, and passed out. We took the key to the punishment cells from the guard captain, found Galvena and a wizard there about to punish Claire, killed them, and freed Claire. We informed all the other employees of their new freedom on the way out, and kicked the guards awake, fought them, and killed them too. Sanik and Claire were re-united, and boarded Sanik's ship to sail out on the next tide. A good deed done, and the arms and armor of the dead guards sold for a good price, and so a profitable one too. And we had the information we sought. Our next objective was Perth the Adept.
We confronted him and he acted in a very odd fashion. He talked as if he was not in full control of his own actions, recognized me as T'rissae, and spoke of carrying out his orders and testing my limits. Then he attacked. We killed him, of course, and took the wardstone and a Book of Infinite Spells from his body. I wondered if he had been put under the vampires' thrall and the 'test of limits' of which he spoke had been ordered by Bodhi, for a similar reason to the ambush at the docks as we disembarked. There was no way that I was going to waste another charge from the Rod of Resurrection to find out the answer, as it was unlikely to be helpful, and so we merely headed off along the path to Spellhold.
We met up with Sime, told her of our success, and she said that she would head back into Brynnlaw and see if she could arrange a passage out once our rescue mission was complete. Galvena had been the main enemy she had been concerned about and, with her and her retinue dead, Sime was less concerned about remaining unnoticed. I had given no thought to our return journey, which was a stupid oversight as it should have occurred to me that Saemon's betrayal had closed off our expected avenue, but perhaps Sime could persuade Sanik or Calahan to delay their own departures. We bade her farewell and continued on along the path.
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There were some minor monsters on the grounds surrounding Spellhold; Vampiric Mists, Poison Mists, Wandering Horrors, Shadows, Shadow Fiends, and Wraiths. None of them presented any difficulties. There were no human guards. We reached the main door, opened it and went in, and were met by an apparent Cowled Wizard.
"I trust you have good reason to be entering this place," he greeted us. His voice seemed oddly familiar. "It is T'rissae, isn't it?"
"You know my name?" I responded. "How?" I began to get a very bad feeling about this.
"You made inquiries in town," he replied. "I have agents and eyes. Security is quite important when dealing with an institution such as this." I recognized the voice now.
"Irenicus!" Jaheira hissed, but she made no move to attack. I made to draw Carsomyr… but my muscles did not respond to my intention.
Irenicus continued with his speech, saying that no doubt I was here for Imoen, and that he would let me examine the facilities, and Imoen, for myself. He must have been aware that we had seen through his transparent deception but carried on as if it was genuine. I found myself unable to lift a finger to attack him and, it was obvious, my companions were just as helpless.
Irenicus gave us a conducted tour of the place, introducing us to the inmates as we passed their cells. One of them, Wanev, was the former coordinator of the asylum but now appeared to be insane. I guessed that Irenicus was responsible for his insanity. I had to do something… but I could not make my body obey me. Against my will, I plodded along behind him, waiting as he opened each door, introduced the inmate, and then locked it again and carried on with this charade.
"And lastly, the one you seek," he announced. Imoen stood in the final room, staring vacantly at nothing. "She is quite well, considering the circumstances."
"So empty… empty…" she said. Her expression was blank and her voice almost a whimper.
"What have you done to her?" I cried.
"She does not seem able to respond right now," Irenicus said. "Her consciousness comes and goes. It is fortunate that you arrived when you did."
"You mean, you're going to release her?" I said, unbelievingly.
"You misunderstand. It is fortunate for me that you arrived when you did. I am quite through with her for the moment. It is you I am after. I knew you would seek her, and so the path was difficult, but not impossible. All designed to test your potential. The Cowled Wizards no longer run this asylum. With Bodhi's aid, I was able to take control quite easily. She is a fine sibling, if a touch predatory."
My guesses about his intentions had been along the right lines but had fallen short of anticipating the full extent of his schemes. And, somehow, he had neutralized all my ability to resist. How? And how could I overcome it?
He escorted us into a large cell and commanded us to lay all our weapons and magic items upon the table there. I tried to resist but could not. My magic resistance, all my precautions, all were useless. All of us did exactly as we were commanded… save for Yoshimo.
"You have done well, Yoshimo," Irenicus said. "Everything is exactly as I asked."
"Y…yes, Master Irenicus," Yoshimo replied, and bowed.
"What is he talking about?" Nalia gasped out. "Yoshimo! What have you done? I thought you… cared for me!"
"I do, young… no, I have lost the right to call you that," Yoshimo said. "I had no choice."
"No choice but to betray us? You've risked your life for us before. Why turn on us now?" I asked.
"Things are not as they seem, Jabbress," he said. "I made a deal that cannot be broken. You killed my sister, and so I agreed willingly. It is too late now to go back."
His sister? Tamoko! "She killed my foster-father, or at least aided in his killing," I told him. "Even so, I would not have slain her had she given me a choice."
"I was informed only that you had slain her," Yoshimo said, "and shown hard evidence that it was true. And Viconia was wearing her armor when you were captured. I had sworn to avenge her… and there are other reasons why I could not turn back from this course."
"You will hear the name 'traitor' many times, Yoshimo," Jaheira said, "but let me be the first of the group to spit it at you."
"I know well the proper punishment for those called traitor to their kind," Viconia added. "You shall have as much mercy as I have been shown, Yoshimo. Oloth plynn dos, walking corpse."
Minsc and Nalia added their condemnations, Nalia in a particularly heartbroken voice.
"As to how you are powerless," Irenicus explained, "Yoshimo followed my instructions precisely. A few spell components, designed to strip away your resistance to magic and make you helpless to resist my control, added to your meals aboard the ship. Every eventuality was anticipated. Now, have you removed all of your items? Every weapon, every piece of armor, rings, wands, potions, everything? What is that upon your finger, Nalia De'Arnise?"
"It's my family signet ring, monster!" Nalia spat out. "It is bonded to my blood and cannot be removed."
"I'm sure my sister could remove it," Irenicus said, "although I'm afraid your finger would come with it."
"No!" Yoshimo protested. "Please, Master, not that!"
"Do not question me, Yoshimo," Irenicus said. "Your duty is to obey. But do not fear. A single ring – of protection, is it not? – will affect nothing. She may keep it. But nothing else."
Stripped of everything that we could use to attack, or to defend ourselves, we were conducted out of that room. Yoshimo paused, passed his hand over our possessions once, and then followed. Irenicus took the others to the cells, locked Minsc in one, and then made the three women go into another. He Summoned two beings of swirling mists, I suspected that they were Nishruu or Hakeashar, and locked them into the women's cell. If my identification of the beings' identities was correct, this might be a somewhat hopeful sign. Those creatures sucked away the memorized spells from a spellcaster, feeding on the magic; it would render my friends almost helpless once the thrall put upon us by Irenicus expired, but it did imply that he was not going to kill them – or why would he bother? Or did he have something worse than death in mind?
I was taken away separately. They took me down a flight of stairs, to a huge room surrounded by an encircling corridor, and Bodhi awaited us there. She was engaged in imprisoning a Shadow Thief in a glass container as we entered. Other man-sized containers stood around the edge of the room, six in all, and the other five already contained imprisoned Shadow Thieves. A seventh container was positioned on a plinth in the center of the room, connected to the rest by pipes, and Bodhi thrust me into that container and shut the door. She was insanely strong. I could have done nothing against her, without my weapons, even had my will to resist not been suppressed.
"Is this what you did to Imoen?" I asked. "Why? Just to test your machine before you used it on me?"
"Not quite," Irenicus said. "You are perceptive, but have overlooked some parts of the picture. The difference between you and Imoen is only that you are… aware."
"Aware? Of what?"
"Of your shared divine heritage," Irenicus explained. "Surely you must have suspected? Both of you orphans, taken to Candlekeep at the same time, both of you with your memories of your past… erased. A mistake. That Gorion of yours should have told you both what you were. You might have learned not to fear what you are. Imoen is indeed a Child of Bhaal. I suspect her innocent charm and humor must have suppressed the darkness. She showed no symptoms because there was no place for shadow in her soul. I had to show her some very dark shadows indeed to prepare her for the process. It is unfortunate that it had to be done, but it was necessary to get what I need. Now I must focus on you. Do you see the Shadow Thieves in the other chambers? They are the fruits of Bodhi's guild war, and their deaths shall force the divine soul from you."
He made a gesture as if spell-casting and, one by one, the thieves in the other containers screamed and died. I felt a sensation as if something was tugging at me, and I lost consciousness.
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I woke… or did I dream? I was standing in the grounds of Candlekeep, or a distorted version of it, lit by an eerie red light, with the Candlekeep Inn and the outer walls missing, and nothing beyond where they should have been except for a void in which stars could be seen. Imoen's voice called to me, telling me that I could not fight alone, and to find her inside. I followed my usual custom and scouted the whole of the outer area before going in. There was no-one there, the doors to the barracks and priests' quarters would not open, and no sign of any world outside. A dreamscape.
I went through the gateway into the inner courtyard and gardens. The pools and fountains were gone, replaced by black pits, and where grass and flowers should have been was only bare earth. A demon stood on what should have been the pathway to the keep entrance, flanked by beautiful fountains and pools, but was now a bridge over a deep, dark, chasm.
"This path is to the core… the depths of your soul," the demon told me. "Only through sacrifice can you achieve such insight. Do you give of yourself that you will know yourself? Do you let go of what you are, that you might see from a distance? Choose what you will sacrifice to know yourself, to walk within. Give of your health, your mind, your wits, or your youth."
"None of those options appeals to me in the slightest," I said. "Why should I give anything? And what exactly would each cost me? For instance, if I gave of my youth, does that mean I would suddenly be twenty years older?"
"You would lose a little of your agility," the demon explained. "For your health, it would be your hardiness. Your mind, your speed of thought and ability to learn. For your wits, the wisdom you have learned. Choose, or the door holds fast, for you would do more damage stumbling through than another could muster."
"Exactly how much would I lose?" I asked. "How would it compare to what I gained reading the tomes and manuals of improvement?"
"It would be to the same degree," the demon clarified. "It would be as if you had never read the relevant magical tome. No more, and no less. Choose. Until you do, the door will remain shut."
"I will consider it," I told the demon, and moved off to explore the rest of the grounds. I thought about what qualities I could best afford to lose, if I could find no way around the choice. The increase to agility and dexterity that I had gained from the Manual of Quickness of Action had not improved my combat abilities significantly, only giving me a very slight edge over Viconia in those aspects, but I was still loath to part with it. The extra hardiness I had gained from the Manual of Bodily Health had proved of great value to me; my resilience in combat, my ability to take punishment and keep on fighting, and my tolerance of pain were far too valuable to diminish. I had read no manuals or tomes to increase my intelligence, or my wisdom, and those qualities remained at the level I had been born with. I would not wish to be less intelligent, as sometimes it irked me that Imoen had always been quicker of thought than me… but wisdom… perhaps I could afford to lose a little of that. I overthought things sometimes, planned too deeply, insisted on being in control more than was necessary… a little less of those qualities might not do me any harm.
I was still contemplating my decision when I reached the rear of the keep, where the gateway that should have led to the Candlekeep Inn stood, and came upon a figure standing there. A woman, seemingly a rivvil jalil, but much taller than me, or even than Minsc or Sarevok. Her skin was ivory white, her hair as black as night, and her eyes were purple. I had seen her before, or at least her reflection in a pool, in a dream that had also been set in Candlekeep.
The goddess Shar.
I bowed to her. She was not my goddess, but she was Viconia's, and although she was Evil she had been supportive in our previous dream meeting. "Usstan venduin dos, quar'valsharess," I greeted her.
"And I greet you, T'rissae of House Faen Tlabbar," she responded. "Friend and protector of she who has awakened a side of me almost forgotten. You deserve a boon. I cannot help you in this trial but I can restore to you something I took from you long ago. Gorion asked it of me, and I granted his request, but perhaps it would have been better for all had I refused. Now I reverse it. Remember!" She vanished, not with the swirl of energy of teleportation, but simply as if she had never been there… and I remembered.
I remembered my mother. Maydril Tlabbar. She looked very like Aunt Cierre, save that her eyes were red like mine and not the amber of Cierre's, and she may have been an inch or two shorter and not quite as broad across the shoulders. I remembered traveling with her, never staying long in any one place, spending much time in the wilderness and little in towns or cities. I remembered her telling me of Eilistraee, of how she had learnt of the Dark Dancer and come to worship her, and of her flight from Menzoberranzan. And I remembered her taking me to a place where she had been told she would meet again the Drow who had fathered me. To the same temple, dedicated first to Mask and then to Bhaal, that had seemed vaguely familiar when I visited it, years later, and fought the mad priests of Cyric.
And I remembered the horrors that had taken place there. Her murder, and the priestesses of Bhaal who slew her, and the other Children who were there to be sacrificed. Imoen. Sarevok. A boy I thought might have been the man I had seen, briefly, in the tavern in Trademeet who had cried out and then teleported away. A girl of Kara-Turan race, tiny but fierce, trying to fight with her small fists and feet against the priestesses but to no avail. Many others less memorable. The sacrifices of the Children beginning. And then Harpers, led by Gorion, bursting into the temple and fighting the priestesses. My rescue, and that of Imoen, and the surviving other Children fleeing into the wilds.
And Gorion conducting a ritual to remove the memories from Imoen, and from myself, so that we were not scarred by our experiences. His intentions had been good, but the results… had been mixed. But now I had those memories back and, good and bad, they were precious to me. Shar had, indeed, given me a gift.
"Usstan bel'la dos, quar'valsharess," I said, thanking her even though she had departed; I did not doubt that she would be able to hear. I then continued with my circuit of the keep's exterior.
And came upon a less welcome apparition.
An armored man, wielding a two-handed sword, wearing a horned helm with an aperture resembling a fanged maw. Sarevok had worn one of much the same fashion, and I thought at first that this was Sarevok, but the reality was worse. This was Bhaal, or at least a representation of him, or of the part of him that was within me.
"Fall to your knees!" he commanded. "You can do no other. I am within you. I am your essence."
"I don't kneel," I said. "What do you want?"
"What do I want?! Your life, your soul, your body! I am the instinct that will fuel the father! I am your blood!" With that, he attacked, lashing out at me with his sword, and I had no weapon with which to strike back.
I tried to fight with my fists, dodging its sword blows, but soon realized that it was futile; I was no monk, to hurt an armored man with my bare hands, and I knew just enough to hold my fists so that I did not break my own fingers when I punched. I remembered hearing Imoen's voice telling me that I could not fight alone, and to find her inside, and that seemed to be my only option. I turned and ran all the way back around the keep, with the shape of Bhaal following behind but losing ground, until I was once again at the pathway where the demon awaited. It asked its question again, wanting to know what I would sacrifice, and this time I gave an answer.
"I give of my wits, of the wisdom I have learned," I said, having decided that this, for me, was the least bad choice.
"Then you shall come to know of yourself through your mistakes, when you undoubtedly falter through foolishness," the demon said. "A fool can learn much that a scholar does not see. You shall know more of yourself through what you have lost." That was already true, for my memories had been restored, and I wondered if it was my decision to pick this option that had caused the vision of Shar to act as she had. "A gesture of your intent within," the demon continued. "Pass as you should, and do not fear what comes." It stood aside, and I crossed the bridge and entered the keep. Bhaal was only a few steps behind me.
I entered the familiar ground floor of Candlekeep. The shelves, the staircase, everything was as I remembered it, but no-one was there other than Imoen.
"I… I can see you there," she greeted me. "Wait… and we can win."
"Imoen? Are you all right?" I asked. When I had seen her in the upper floor of the asylum she had looked to be unaware of her surroundings. Her voice still quavered, but at least she seemed coherent.
"Shhh… before the shadows return to me," she said. "I have seen what is to come. One alone cannot fight. Together we must battle your instinct. Alone, you would fall, whether you win or lose, but here, in my sight, we can defeat it. Lead the creature here… lead it to me… and we shall fight it together. Together… he does not expect us together, but he has shown me how… It is your only chance… and my last."
The Bhaal apparition did not need to be led to her. It was not far behind me and arrived even as she spoke.
"Now!" Imoen cried. "It is in my sight! I will add my will to yours. He has shown me… how to make it vulnerable."
It didn't seem vulnerable. My punches did nothing against its armor and its sword strikes, even though I managed to at least partially dodge them, cut me and left me bleeding. Imoen, for all her words about joining with me, didn't seem to be doing anything constructive at all. I needed a weapon and there was nothing… at least, not in the main hall, but there might be something elsewhere. I ran into one of the side rooms, grabbed a chair, and hastened out again before the Bhaal creature could follow me into the confined space. I used the chair as a clumsy club, and managed to knock the apparition back, but it did not seem to be hurt.
"I am your instinct, yet you deny me?!" the Bhaal spirit boomed out. "Fight me within your own mind?! I should devour you! How do you stand?"
I hit it again with the chair, and rocked it, and when it retaliated with a slash aimed at my head, I used the chair to block.
"I sense your soul," it growled. "It has taken form to guide from within. You are strange among your kin!"
"My kin are of House Faen Tlabbar," I said, "like my mother, and my aunt. And my Aunt Cierre would take that sword from you and stick it up your…" And an idea came to me.
I struck low with the chair, and drove the chair legs between the legs of the apparition. I twisted and the beast tripped and fell. It released the sword with one hand as it flung out its arms to break its fall. I rammed the chair down on its head, pinning it for a moment, and hurled myself on the sword arm. I twisted the arm with all my strength, using both my arms against its one, and overcame its superior strength and slammed its hand down upon the stone floor. Its grip slackened, I seized the sword, and wrenched it from the apparition's hand. I came up from the ground with the sword in my possession. I recognized it; the Chaos Blade, that had belonged to Sarevok, given to me by the genie of the lamp in the dungeon of Irenicus. It felt familiar in my hand and I would be able to wield it to good effect.
"No," the beast said, as it clambered to its feet. "Your soul is weak, and will not help again. You are empty inside. There is nothing but the instinct!" It sounded as if it was trying to convince itself. I struck before it was fully erect, striking across the back of its neck, and sending it stumbling. Another blow knocked it all the way down onto its face. It rose to hands and knees and I struck across the back of the neck once more. The helmet was knocked up, exposing a gap, and I smote again with all my might. Its head came off and the helmet hit the floor and rolled away. There was nothing inside. I had won. Or had I?
"Something is wrong," Imoen whimpered, as the empty suit of armor crumpled to the floor. "No! Not again!" She screamed, I saw my surroundings melt away into nothingness, and the next thing I saw was the inside of the glass container in which I was still imprisoned. I no longer held the sword.
Irenicus stood in front of the glass and peered in at me. "Well, you are a strong one indeed," he said. "You resist beyond all reason. A pity you are dead on the inside."
"I don't feel dead," I said. "Whatever that apparition of Bhaal was meant to do, whether it was to kill me or something else, it failed. I slew the beast."
"I don't know what you faced whilst mired within the spell," Irenicus said, "but here, in the realms of the living, my plans have gone just as I wished. I have drained you – drained you of the very thing that made you special. It is the worst of curses, and I should know."
I realized that something indeed had been taken from me. The powers that I had gained from my Bhaal essence, the few extra spells, had gone. It wasn't a great loss, although I would rather have had them than not, and my paladin abilities and the clerical spells I had been granted were unaffected.
"All this, just to get a couple of Cure Light Wounds spells, Draw Upon Holy Might, and Slow Poison?" I asked, unbelievingly. "You could have gained as much just by hiring a minor priest as a henchman."
"You warrant no villain's exposition from me," Irenicus said, and then gave one anyway. "You are barely sentient now. I have taken your very divinity and drained you of your soul. The curse that was wrought against Bodhi and I has now ceased, and yours has begun. You will wither, you will wane, and you will die."
"That was ungrammatical," I pointed out. "It should be 'the curse that was wrought against Bodhi and me has now ceased'."
Bodhi laughed. "She has you there, brother. Say it again, without including my name, and you will see that she is correct."
He stared at me. "I have just told you that you are going to die, and you correct my grammar?"
"I'll take all the victories I can get," I said. "Plenty of other people have told me that I'm going to die. None of them have been right so far. I'll worry about it when it happens."
He shook his head. "Your attitude baffles me, but it is no longer important, as you are doomed. Bodhi, remove this pedant from my presence, and Imoen as well. Do with them, and the others, as you will. We are restored at their expense, and need them no longer. Our revenge to come is now all the sweeter."
"As you would have it, my brother," Bodhi said.
"Of course. See to it as quickly as possible," Irenicus told her. "I will tell our 'friends' in the dark of our coming. We shall plan our assault from here." He turned his attention back to me. "I bid you farewell, Child of Bhaal. We shall not meet again." He strode away, leaving the room, and Bodhi pulled open the door of my container.
"There is one more act to play out, little one," Bodhi said, a rather inaccurate description as I must have been five or six inches taller than her. "My brother thinks only of revenge, but I see no reason not to have a little fun first. We're going to play a little game, you and I, and your friends and mine, and I expect to enjoy it a lot more than you will."
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Bodhi and Yoshimo took me back upstairs, with Bodhi staying close to me, and Yoshimo keeping back where I would have no chance to snatch his weapon. I took the opportunity to ask Yoshimo more about his betrayal.
"I suspected that Irenicus had arranged for you to join us," I told him, "but I thought he just wanted to ensure that my group had an accomplished thief available, so that we would not need to take time finding and recruiting one, and could set off for Spellhold with the minimum of delay. You played your part very well. I genuinely thought you had been dragged into this whole affair against your will, and that you had become our friend. Well done… traitor."
Yoshimo avoided my eyes. "I did come to admire you, even like you, Jabbress," he said, "but I had no choice but to continue with my mission."
"Yes, you said something about 'a deal that could not be broken'," I remembered. "Were you put under a geas?"
"I was, Jabbress," he confirmed. "I agreed to it, and sealed my fate. A willing geas cannot be broken. I was set on my course, and could not diverge from it without suffering an agonizing death."
I was no expert on arcane magic but I had read enough to be fairly sure that he was right. A geas forced upon the recipient could only be broken by a mage of greater power than the one who had cast it, and it would have been hard to find one more powerful than Irenicus, but perhaps it could have been done; we had, after all, met Elminster himself more than once. But a geas willingly accepted was, to the best of my knowledge, irrevocable. "In that case," I told him, "I forgive you. Oh, I will still kill you, if I get the chance, but only to remove a threat, and not out of hatred. Do not expect Viconia to be so merciful."
"You are kinder than I deserve, Jabbress," he said.
"It's in my job description," I said.
Bodhi laughed. "You have been an amusing enemy," she said. "It is a shame that you turned down my offer and chose to ally with the Shadow Thieves instead. Working with you, for a short time, might have been entertaining. Now there is only one more piece of entertainment that you will give me."
If she was going to stage a duel to the death, the scales would be heavily weighted against me, unless she was generous enough to give me access to my weapons and armor, and I could not see that happening. I might have probed for more information but at that point we arrived at the place where the others were imprisoned. Imoen awaited us there, still silent and with her expression vacant, guarded by three vampires. Bodhi's messenger girl Valen, the mage who had fought us in Bodhi's lair in Athkatla, and… Safana.
She gave me a cheery smile. "Sorry about this, Jabbress," Safana said. "Being part of your group was a lot of fun, while it lasted, but being a vampire is incredible. You should have let me turn you when I offered, instead of cutting off my head. That fucking hurt!"
"You can't turn an Undead Hunter, idiot," Bodhi said. "Stick to doing what you're told. Is everyone ready, Tanova?"
Tanova? That was the name Centeol had mentioned when she told of how Irenicus had transformed her into her grossly obese, almost immobile, form as revenge for something done to his wife. Was the vampire mage Tanova actually the wife of Irenicus? And how did the clone of the darthiir queen Ellesime fit in?
"More or less, Bodhi," Tanova replied. "They might have a few low-level spells left, possibly, but nothing to worry us."
"We might as well go ahead, then," Bodhi said. "We'll kill the Hakeashars and then move the prisoners out."
The vampires hustled my friends out of their cells and took us through the asylum to a platform overlooking a hall with staircases leading up from it at each side. None of the stairs went to the platform.
"And now your lives come to an end," Bodhi said. "A pity, in a way. Your abilities have piqued my interest and, since you are to die, I would have you do it in an entertaining fashion. My dear brother can be so dour when he wishes. He is set upon revenge for his banishment, and can think of nothing else. A failing of his mind remaining flesh, I suspect. Undeath has given me focus, and an interest in the abilities of powerful creatures. An interest in you. I shall make your death glorious, as well as entertaining."
She paused, and seemed to be waiting for me to say something, and so I obliged. "What do you have in mind?"
"A game that you will have no choice but to play," she said. "You will run my gauntlet, and you will do so because of the slim chance you can make a difference. The hall below leads to the darkest part of this asylum. It is supposed to be a test of clarity, to sort out the sane from the insane, but I think the director who created it was madder than any inmate ever confined here. He is under my influence now, and his creation is mine to play with. It is a labyrinth, full of tests and traps, with riddles to solve and monsters to slay – or to slay you. Enter the maze and seek your exit. I give you time to run, after which I will come to feed. If you do escape, you might even manage to foil Irenicus. His plans will take time, just about as long as my hunt. Run my gauntlet until your life ends – or you break free."
"It's not going to be much of a glorious contest with none of us armed," I pointed out. "At least give us a few weapons. Non-magical ones, even, just something with which to fight."
"You will find the maze well stocked with weapons and armor," Bodhi said. "Of course, most of them are in the hands of foes, which might be something of a drawback, but if you conquer you will be able to arm yourselves. But I am not completely heartless… at least now that I have Imoen's soul. Some of her must be rubbing off on me. I'll give you something with which to start off. Has anyone any non-magical weapons? Valen? Safana?"
"I picked up a cutlass from the last pirate I ate, Cap'n," Safana said. "It's once-enchanted, though."
"I could lay my hands on a quarterstaff," Tanova said. "Perhaps a sling, too."
"That will be sufficient," Bodhi said. "They can have those, but nothing more."
"Your pardon, Mistress," Yoshimo said, "but I have remembered something that I heard T'rissae say once. She lamented that she had never been kissed. I feel that it is a shame that she should die without ever having had that experience. May I give her that kiss, in token of our parting?"
Bodhi raised her eyebrows. "I would have thought it would be that Nalia girl that you wanted to kiss," she said.
"That would feel too much like rubbing salt into a wound," Yoshimo said. "T'rissae has said that she forgives me. I do not expect the same forgiveness from Nalia."
"I must try rubbing salt into a wound some time," Bodhi mused. "It sounds amusingly painful. Very well, then, Yoshimo. You may kiss the girl before she dies." Her tone sharpened. "But take off that fancy sword first. The thrall must have almost worn off by now and I'm not risking her getting her hands on it. She's too competent, and it's much too dangerous."
Yoshimo bowed, slid Celestial Fury's scabbard from his waist sash, and laid it on the ground. He came up to me and put his hands on my shoulders. "I am sorrier than I can say, Jabbress," he said. "There was nothing that I could do. Accept this goodbye kiss as a token of my sorrow." He rubbed his hand across his mouth, and then pressed his lips to mine and kissed me. He opened his mouth and his tongue probed my lips. I had read of this type of kiss, and it had sounded pleasurable, and as I might be going to die soon, I felt I might as well experience it. I allowed my lips to open and his tongue entered my mouth. And pushed something in with it. Something hard, and circular, and I realized what he was giving me.
The Ring of Gaxx.
Glossary of Drow Phrases
Jabbress = Female commander
Oloth plynn dos = Darkness take you
rivvil jalil = human female
Usstan venduin dos, quar'valsharess = I greet you, goddess (not Lolth)
Usstan bel'la dos, quar'valsharess = I thank you, goddess (not Lolth)