Author's Note: I was scratching my head, wondering why this chapter wasn't sitting right with me. I'm afraid I've figured it out. There's not enough suffering! And now I realize I'm an evil nasty person because I'm just not happy unless my favorite characters are getting the unholy crap kicked out of them. Sigh. And looking ahead, the next few chapters are going to go pretty well for our heroes. (Of course, that means that when the crap-kicking finally comes, it's going to HURT. Heh heh. I guess I can wait.)

17...Mended

The mage protested Valen's grip on his arm all the way to his tower and only stopped when he saw the drow sentries that guarded his front door. Valen and Haer'Dalis swept into the attack. One of the drow shouted a warning and pounded on the door but no one came to his aid.

"The larger force will be inside," Haer'Dalis panted, once the sentries were dead.

Petyr laughed. "I certainly hope so," he said. "They're no doubt being devoured and digested as we speak. But I'd best nip up and check on the boy, just in case." He spread his wings and, with a grunt of effort, leapt into the air.

Deekin squatted in the dust with his journal open on his knees. He hummed to himself as his quill scratched away. Valen paced and muttered as they waited. "Why don't you tell us something of yourself?" Haer'Dalis suggested.

"Like what?"

"Where are you from? Why are you here? What brought you to the Underdark?"

"I have an idea," Valen said. "Why don't you tell me about yourself and why you are here."

Haer'Dalis spread his hands. "I am from Sigil. 'Twas a play brought me to the Prime; a play and a bounty and a relentless pursuit." He spoke of his friendship with the Bhaalspawn; of his first visit to the Underdark in her company. "And that was how I came to meet Solaufein."

"Hold just a moment," Valen said. "I thought you were a mercenary. You are an actor? Are you serious? An actor."

"A noble profession and one you need not sneer at," Haer'Dalis replied. He gave a slight smirk. "I do, however, possess a few other skills that come in handy from time to time."

"I've been a soldier in the Blood War for so long, sometimes I forget there is more to life than that," Valen said. "But it wasn't through the Blood War that I met the Seer, but an accident some years ago. One of her enemies summoned a group of demons to attack her people. I, as it happened, was one of those plucked from the Abyss. The Seer says there are no coincidences but I think we all know that there must be. This was one. I was brought before her by nothing but chance...but when I looked into her eyes, and she into mine...my world changed. Little though I knew it at the time." He frowned and looked at the ground.

The kobold looked up from his book. "You fought the Seer?" Deekin asked. "You?"

"I was summoned and bound to do so," Valen replied. "Her side prevailed and we were banished back from whence we came."

They all looked up at the sound of wings. Petyr spread his wings to slow his descent and landed lightly before them.

"So surly that boy has become," Petyr said. "Almost I pity him."

"Did you get the shard?" Valen asked.

"Yes, yes. Here, take the blasted thing. Watch your fingers; it's as sharp as sin. Thought I was going to have to pry it from his grasping hands. Deluded child. I had to speak most firmly to him."

"What of the drow?" Valen asked.

"I could hear their screams from the floors below." He snorted. "A most satisfying sound, I must admit. Any drow who survive the vrocks are unlikely to survive the slaadi on the next floor. Well now. Shall we go celebrate with a drink or three?"


Deekin's Finding Song led them to a temple on the edge of the town. "That not sound like praying," the kobold said as they trudged up the incline. He pulled out his crossbow when he saw Valen had his flail in his hand. "Maybe drow beat us here."

"Maybe so," Valen said. The three quick-marched forward. The temple was surrounded by an open plaza, decorated with ornamental plants in large urns. The plants were withered husks. Scattered artfully amongst the urns were statues of the Seldarine, or so Haer'Dalis assumed, but he did not know the elven pantheon well enough to recognize the gods and goddesses depicted.

A lone avariel cleric stood near the entry, surrounded by a swarm of noxious undead creatures no doubt called up from the dead in the surrounding caverns. Duergar and drow zombies, hook horrors and skeletal remains harder to identify raised claw or weapon against twenty drow warriors.

A drow female shrieked. "What have you done to me, foul priest? Speak!"

"I?" the avariel asked. His voice was sly and teasing. "I have done nothing, mighty Sabal. You feel the blessing of the dark goddess of poison and disease. Pass Talona's test and I shall give you the shard you seek."

"Lolth take you and your test! You will give me the shard or I shall slit your belly and strangle you with your own entrails!"

"Lolth has no power here. Talona rules!" The priest raised his hands and began a chant.

"Stop him!" Sabal screamed. Three of the drow warriors charged forward into the pack of zombies while the others fired hand crossbows. The avariel completed his spell before the warriors could reach him. "Let pain be as pleasure!" the priest cried and he raised his wings in ecstasy. Lightning lit up the cavern in stroke after stroke and poisonous green rain soaked the drow. Some staggered or fell back; others tried to crawl away from the divine storm.

Haer'Dalis drew his swords. "I hate to say this but if that priest has the shard, it appears we must battle on the side of the zombies." Deekin made a face as he sighted his crossbow.

"Might as well kill them all," Valen muttered.

The storm finally ended and the surviving drow rallied. Individually the zombies were no match for the drow. The undead pressed forward in their relentless way, in an attempt to protect their priest. They fell to drow blades. The Red Sister, Sabal, was hunched over with pain, unable to do much to assist her fighters. Valen's flail rattled as he strode forward to attack the back rank of drow crossbowmen. Sabal's attempted warning turned into a hacking cough.

One of the drow managed to force himself through the stinking undead. In a long lunge, his rapier caught the priest in the side before the warrior was dragged down by a duergar zombie. The zombie bit down on the back of his leg but Deekin's bolt to the head was fatal.

Only a handful of drow survivors fell back when Sabal choked out a retreat and of those, several stayed to keep Valen and Haer'Dalis too busy for pursuit. The others were dead or dying. Once the remaining drow fell, the zombies halted. Haer'Dalis kept his weapons ready, fully expecting the zombies to turn on them next but they didn't. It was rather unnerving to be in the midst of so many quiescent undead.

Valen loped off in the direction Sabal's group took but he saw no sign of them and so he returned to the others. "How will we track them down?" he asked Haer'Dalis.

"I doubt that will be necessary. They must come for us and the shards we have gathered."

The priest slumped to the ground. He pressed a bloody hand to his side. Deekin knelt beside him and fumbled through his belt pouch for a healing potion.

"To die, like this," the priest gasped. "To die of naught but a clean wound...this is not...not enough pain." He sucked in another breath. "Talona will be displeased." His eyes rolled back.

"Deekin thinking he dead." He looked at the potion in his hand, shrugged, and put it back in his pouch.

"All in all, I think I am glad of that," Haer'Dalis said. He cast a look at the zombies that stood around, unmoving and unblinking. Some of them lay on the floor where they'd fallen. Those made no attempt to stand. "Go away," he told them. He waved his hands. The zombies did not respond. He turned to Deekin. "See if he has the shard."

Deekin showed no sign of squeamishness as he parted the priest's robes and opened his pouch. "Got it. There's a potion here, too."

"Poison?" Haer'Dalis asked.

"Don't know."

"Leave it then."

Deekin gave him one of his opaque black-eyed looks and pocketed the potion anyway. "Looks special," he said.

"Let's get out of here," Valen said. "I don't like this place."

"This was a place of peace and serene beauty once," Haer'Dalis said. "Now it holds naught but chaos and decay."

"Spare me your Doomguard crap," Valen said. "Let's go back to the palace before these zombies decide we look tasty. Sabal has one shard and we now have the rest."


Sabal awaited them in the palace. She had four drow with her and they looked battered and weary. Sabal drew herself up with a haughty look and then suddenly turned and vomited.

"Deekin never saw elf throw up before," the kobold whispered.

"She can barely stand," Haer'Dalis replied. "What did that priest do to her?"

"I'm glad he didn't do it to us," Valen said. "Sabal! Give us your shard and you can go in peace."

"Never!" She began to cough and suddenly she bent over and spewed blood and darker things. She sank to her knees. "Kill them," she croaked. Her remaining drow looked at her. They looked at Valen. Then, as one, they dodged through the pillars and ran out through the palace doors.

"No," she whispered. "No." She crawled towards the nearest pillar. Blood trickled from her nose and eyes and then, as if a dam had broken inside her, blood poured from her mouth. She collapsed.

Elicid sat upon the throne and watched in silence. There was a flutter of wings and Petyr flew in through the doorway. He looked around and stared at the drow's body.

"Phew, what a stench," he said. "The cleaners will not be pleased. Is the drow leader dead?"

"Yes," Elicid said. "She brought her death upon herself yet it was still a waste."

"Death generally is," Petyr said vaguely. "How are you, old boy? Should have come earlier. Can't think why I stayed away." He shook his head. "Glad I came now though. I feel more myself here, somehow."

"Here, where the mirror was shattered, the curse upon us is weaker," Elicid said. "It is here that the mirror must be made whole again."

Deekin ran forward and pulled the shards from his pack. "We bringing the pieces. Let me get the one from the dead lady." The kobold seemed to show no reluctance to touching the diseased drow, Haer'Dalis noted with a shudder. Maybe kobolds couldn't catch elf diseases. He wondered if tieflings could. Not that whatever had afflicted Sabal was any normal disease.

"I cannot repair the mirror," Elicid said. "It must be done by one not touched by the curse." He reached behind the throne and retrieved a small golden frame. He pointed at Deekin. "You, the hero with the soul of a dragon. You are the one who must save us."

"Deekin?" the kobold squeaked.

"Yes, you, Deekin. Take this frame and lay the pieces within in. You will know what to do."

"Deekin have soul of dragon?"

The avariel smiled. "Do my words surprise you? They should not, little hero. They should not."

Valen and Haer'Dalis exchanged looks. A brief startled grin blossomed on Deekin's long face. He took the frame and laid it on the floor. Then he unwrapped each shard and set them beside the frame. With deliberation, he pieced together the puzzle, using his claws to slide pieces together onto the frame until they all seemed to fit. He looked up at Elicid.

"Something supposed to happen?" the kobold asked.

"Now comes the tricky part," murmured Petyr, who stood beside Elicid and leaned casually on the throne.

"You have the power within you to make the mirror whole again," Elicid said. "The magic is here, all around us, twisted and curled into the curse that traps us here. Can you not imagine what we once were? Flying in the glory of the sunlight? Feeling the wind on our wings, the push and the flow of it? Does your soul not have wings? I can almost see them."

With a hum of agitation, Deekin came to his feet. He circled the mirror on the floor and his reflection winked in and out as he moved. His breath came in short pants. His eyes opened wide in a mix of terror and excitement.

"Aaah-aaah-aaaah!"

Haer'Dalis felt raw energy shiver across his arms. "What is that?"

"Salvation," the archmage said. His eyes gleamed as he leaned over to watch.

Deekin's eyes stretched wider and his mouth opened wide. "Aaah!"

A clear stream of power, invisible but for the shimmers it left in the air, poured from his mouth. The shards of glass melted together to form a lucent whole. Deekin stumbled and fell back to land on his rump. Haer'Dalis bent forward and stared at the mirror. It looked perfect.

"Don't touch it," Petyr warned. "Not yet."

"The doorway is prepared," Elicid said. "And now we can move the town through it. All will be as it was." With a sad smile, he added, "Almost." He looked at Deekin. "I will leave the mirror in your hands, little hero. May its power aid you in your battle against the darkness. I warn you, though, to learn from our mistakes. The mirror is like a window, for vision passes both ways. If you turn the mirror's eye against one with power, know that you also expose yourself. Our queen thought to protect us against Halaster's magic and instead, she allowed him to turn the mirror against us. So take care and good luck."

Elicid rose from the throne and limped forward. For the first time, Haer'Dalis noticed there was something wrong with his legs, a wound or deformity that made them unequal in length. Elicid bent and touched the surface of the mirror with both hands. The air thickened, so dense and heavy that it seemed to force the breath from his lungs. Haer'Dalis blinked against the darkness that fell over his eyes.

It was dark because the lights were gone. The palace, with its magelights and marble floors was gone. They stood in a dark echoing cavern, just the three of them.

Haer'Dalis cast a light spell. Sabal lay dead upon the ground but all traces of the avariel had disappeared. Deekin touched the mirror with a tentative claw. When nothing happened, he picked it up.

"Deekin afraid to look," he said. He wrapped the mirror in a spare blanket and put the bundle in his pack.

"I think you are right to be afraid, little hero," Haer'Dalis said.

"Not nice to make fun of Deekin," the kobold said.

"I do not mock you. You have done a great deed."


Deekin curled in the stern of the boat and, with a protective hold on his pack, slept.

"Do you think the mirror will be of much use to us?" Haer'Dalis asked Valen.

"To be able to view our enemy's troop movements from any distance-do you see any value in that? Or to keep track of our own forces when they are scattered across a large battlefield? Yes, of course I think it will be of use to us."

"If you intend to use it against the Valsharess, you must take care," Haer'Dalis said. "Lest we fall into such a trap as these avariel did."

"The Seer will know what to do," Valen said with confidence. "And as powerful as the Valsharess is, I do not believe her to be anywhere near Halaster's equal."

"That man has much to answer for."

"No doubt but I don't see any of us bringing him to task. Not from what I've heard of his power." He gave Haer'Dalis a curious look. "Do you?"

Haer'Dalis sighed. "I hope I can convince Solaufein of that."

"Will he go after Halaster? Because of the geas? Is he such a fool as to take on such an impossible battle?"

Haer'Dalis raised a brow. "We are here, aren't we?"

"Does he think we have no hope against the Valsharess? Despite the Seer's prophecy?"

Haer'Dalis shrugged. "He follows his Goddess, wherever She leads, whether it is to victory or to destruction."

"Do you think the battle is hopeless?"

"Do I believe we face doom? My dear Valen, you know the tactical situation far better than I do."

"The Seer has hope," Valen said. "As for me, well." He rolled his shoulders and settled back against the wall. "I follow her, to whatever end she leads me."

"You and Solaufein are much alike."

"How so?" Valen asked, not looking pleased at the comparison.

"I would say that you have both been at war for so long that you know no other way of life."

"Hmm." Valen said. He looked out over the water. "You have known him a long time?"

"Not long, as elves reckon time. We have traveled dark places together."

"He is not like other followers of Eilistraee I've met."

"Are they all alike?" Haer'Dalis asked. "I had not noticed."

"I think you know what I mean."

"I will if you explain it."

Valen frowned. "The others in the Seer's camp, the ones who followed her here from the surface-most of them are more, shall I say, peaceful. Or at peace with themselves, perhaps. They do not seem as dangerous as other drow I've met. Like the ones from Maeviir House, as an example."

"Ah. Solaufein left the Underdark about three years ago. For an elf, that is no time at all and certainly not much time to shake off the habits of a lifetime." Haer'Dalis gave a thoughtful blink. "Eilistraee converted him to Her worship through a dream, or perhaps a series of dreams. He says little of this. In Ust Natha, it was death to worship any save Lolth. Until he came here, I don't know think he had ever even seen another Eilistraeen. He has certainly never been a part of their community. He was always alone in his faith."

"Through a dream?" Valen asked skeptically.

Haer'Dalis shrugged. "He is a Prime. What can I say?"

"They're all mad, when it comes to their gods."

"Aye."