Blackstaff

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

12 Kythorn, the Year of Unleashed Fears (451 DR)

The young man looked down upon his captors. "You have left me but one avenue, my lords. Sure, are you, that you want to force this path upon me? You know not what you do." "You have nerve, boy, I'll give you that. I expect bluster from a sword-bearer, not a boy wizard in humble woolen robes." The wizard hovered near to him and bared his fangs. "Youngling, you are the ignorant one. You wandered off the path and stepped into Silorrattor. You found us, to your despair. Reap what you sow." "Nay, wait, Kaeth," the second said, his voice a grating of iron on stone. "This one carries the secrets of elves, does he not?"

The black-skinned wizard let his gray hood fall back, pointed ears and white ponytail revealing his drow nature. "My agents tracked him from Myth Drannor itself and led him to us, Ahaud. More importantly, he carries secrets from the Seven as well." Yessss… the third projected, a stray tentacle waving outside the edges of its cloak's hood. Let usss ssssuck the sssecretssss from hisss mind… "You forget, Saquarl, of our pact," the fourth figure said from the throne at the center of the tower's floor, her voice softer. She stepped off the shadowy throne's dais and into the light. "All prefects share equally of magic gained, or else we see it destroyed before others benefit from it." The woman shrugged off her umber cloak, revealing a voluptuous figure in a shimmering red gown that flattered her like a sycophant. "I have other ways of making the boy talk. Palron? Ready him for my interrogation." "Of course, milady Xaerna. At once." The floating wizard gestured, and when his arms slashed through the air before him, the young man's robes ripped away. The young wizard was naked and still suspended from his invisible magical bonds. His rent robes and cloak fell to the floor near Saquarl, disturbing the dust.

Xaerna finished her own incantations, and black bats' wings sprouted from her shoulders. She took to the air, looping around her young prey. As she passed, her hands caressed the young mage's muscular form. "Hm. A human in every way. Pity. I prefer my men less hairy, but your secrets won't last us long." The woman's satin gown trailed against the young mage's trunk and legs, and he shivered. "Ha ha!

Mayhaps he's aching for something other than freedom, Xaerna?" Ahaud the drow laughed. "We can extract information from this hostage of ours in so many ways, some for which you are eminently suited. Exactly how long do we have before we need to sacrifice his body?" The black-skinned elf unfurled an oily whip from his belt and lashed it out, its tip snapping dangerously close to the captive's bare feet.

Are we cccertain thissss one walked with the Sssseven? Saquarl the illithid sent to all minds. Nothing on him indicated sssuch an allianccce. "Do you doubt me or my agents, mind flayer?" Palron Kaeth snapped back as he settled to the ground. "No," a fifth figure intoned. "He merely wants confirmation from someone with a pulse." The vampire laughed and said, "Our friendship may have spanned my death, but don't vex me, Luuthis." Far above, no one noticed the young man smile grimly. Luuthis said, "Saquarl, My Lady sees through all lies.

He is who Kaeth claims he is. Do you need me to prove Leira's powers through me are greater than your Underdark-born faculties?" Palron moved over to the fat Northman and threw an arm over his broad shoulders. "None of us doubts Luuthis Fharren's convictions or the powers of your goddess, Lord High Obfuscator. We need only know how long before the boy's sacrifice is of most use to the Three in Darkness we all serve." The young man smiled broadly, and Xaerna giggled. "Fellows, our captive enjoys my attentions." "Hardly," he replied. "You've told me what I needed to know. I'm ready to go, now that my mission is completed." The only sound in the tall chamber was the sound of the vampiress's magical wings beating the air. Then evil laughter filled the chamber from its obsidian floor below to its ceiling just as far above. Saquarl, in moving away from Luuthis, brushed against the pile of rent clothes. The fabric and leather fragments slithered and swarmed around him, wrapping tightly around his head and body so quickly that none of his comrades noticed until Xaerna screamed and clutched her head. The illithid brought her down, her defenses useless against his psionic attack. Palron leaped to defend his vampiric mistress, while Ahaud clambered up the wall like a spider, drawing two very ornate black short swords as he ran. Only the Leiran priest watched their smiling captive as he flexed his arms and legs then clenched his grip, magical energies surging from his hands.

The priest brought up his triangular holy symbol to start a spell when the mage drew his knee across his body as he pulled his left leg up.

Luuthis crumpled, never seeing the flagstone smash into his head.

"Interesting maneuver, child." Ahaud remarked. "We'll have that secret as well before you free yourself." The drow touched the tips of his short swords together, and a purplish-black bolt of magic exploded toward the defenseless mage. "Indeed?" The mage's steel-blue eyes sparkled with contempt for the drow as the blast hit him full force.

The color of the magic shifted immediately to light blue, and the magic leeched into the magical webbing that spread-eagled the man in the center of the tower. Suffused in blue energy, the mage kicked his right leg out and yanked his right arm down and across his body. Two stone blocks attached to the webs hurtled toward Ahaud. The drow disappeared with a pop, reappearing a few yards up the wall, still clinging to it like a spider. "You missed, boy!" he crowed. "Enjoy your freedom a few heartbeats more…" "It will last longer than your life, Ahaud of House Tanor'thal." The young mage spun in mid-air, and the three stones still attached to the spell webs that once held him scraped and rebounded against the walls below him. "Don't count on that, wizard!" Xaerna cried, her face twisted in anger as she flew toward him. "Your death will be as miserable as that whisper of a beard on your chin." Down below, the wizard could see Palron Kaeth hunched over the body of Saquarl, the illithid's neck obviously broken. The scraps that once possessed the illithid swarmed around the male vampire. The young wizard pulled with his anchored left arm, which drew him into the tower's upper reaches and dislodged the stone.

He floated of his own volition, but his final anchor stone crashed into Xaerna's left wing and slowed her pursuit. Ahaud continued the chase, easily running up the smooth black stone walls. Ignoring his pursuers, the wizard began a new spell. He spun rapidly, the arcane webbing and stones it trailed all glowing. Ahaud and Xaerna avoided the stones, and they too cast spells. The fireball left her fingers a few seconds after the drow unleashed his lightning, and while the wizard reflected the bolt right back at Ahaud, the fireball exploded just above him, slamming him against a wall and burning away his hair.

"Pity the much-vaunted Seven Wizards of Myth Drannor failed to teach you better." Xaerna flew to where the naked man smoldered in one of the upper windowsills, and she began casting a paralyzing spell.

Despite the distractions, the young wizard uttered the spell's final syllables looking into Xaerna's eyes. "Xymmaoth Piurasjk Atox!"

Wincing from the pain of burnt skin, the wizard pulled all his limbs together, tucked himself into a ball, and fell backward through the window. The magic he cast remained on the windowsill and the wall, gold and red energies leeching into the stones. "All that effort to escape, and he wishes to fall to his death? And what is that? Ahaud, do you know this spell?" Xaerna demanded. "It's seeping into the stones, and I can't dispel it!" "I don't know, Xaerna. I've never seen its like." Ahaud glanced out the window, scanning down then up toward the tower's peak. "The boy's atop the roof!" The mage shivered as wind and rain lashed against his naked form, but he smiled back at Ahaud as the drow clambered out into the night and started walking up the outer tower. The silent wizard took to the air and looped swiftly once around the tower. Then he slammed into it with his shoulder, screaming in pain as he hit. Ahaud could see the human's shoulder was broken with bones jutting partly from his skin. The drow's satisfied smile lasted only moments as he realized the tower had shuddered beneath the impact. He saw the results of the earlier spell. Red and gold magic weakened mortar and stone. With the magically enhanced impact, the tower fell inward on itself. In a matter of moments, Silorrattor lay in a huge mound of rubble and dust. The son of Arun barely even heard the screams of his former captors over the din of grinding stone. By the time he reached the ground as well, all was silent. Arun's son groaned as even the slight jar from landing sent spasms of pain through his shattered shoulder. Still, he smiled grimly as a cloud of stone dust settled in the rain. "They taught me enough, witch. They taught me architecture, to be sure."

"Easy, Tsarra. I'm sorry-I thought the visions would ease on you in time." Khelben's voice penetrated her consciousness before her vision cleared. "I don't recall your other apprentices being so inclined to faint, Blackstaff." Lord Wands chuckled as he held her on the opposite side. "Are you afraid of heights, my dear?" Tsarra gulped as she got her bearings. They were back in Maskar's study, and she lay on a divan in one corner beneath the windows. The sun was muted and much closer to sunset. "No, Lord Wands, I'm not. I think it was the smell that triggered the vision… or perhaps the sound of scraping stone…" Maskar asked, "What visions are those? From that kiira you wear?" "She sees my past, Maskar," Khelben said. "Amazingly, even before I was Chosen." Tsarra felt his concern and admiration, then was surprised as her master's eyes rimmed with tears. "I'm sorry this onus fell to you, Tsarra." Maskar had also moved closer, and he touched Tsarra on her shoulder. "My dear, are you wearing the Coronal's Beljureled Belt?" Khelben and Tsarra noticed the belt had become exposed from beneath her leather top. Maskar stared at the glowing green gems and gold scales alone, as did Tsarra-the gems and the buckle were the only things that didn't seem to be part of her flesh!

She touched it, and the gold scales shimmered, but they felt like skin. "Yes," Khelben sighed. "I'd not told her, as I didn't want her intimidated by bearing one of Eltargrim's gifts. Do not worry-its wearer can remove it at will. The merging is just another way to hide the belt from thieves." Tsarra smiled and ran a finger along the belt.

"My mother taught me not to revere things over people, milords, and that all items are meant to be respected as tools and used, not feared or venerated." Khelben said, "That woman continues to earn my respect long after her untimely death. Yes, Maskar, you know I would only bring that item from the shadows for one reason." Lord Wands cleared his throat again and said, "So it's that time, Blackstaff? Rhaelnar's Legacy is to be fulfilled? That's the third favor? Do I need to hide a Nether Scroll for you, should a foolish treasure hunter actually reform one?" "No, old friend," Khelben replied. "Rhaelnar's Legacy is a blind that hides a greater secret, one I'd hoped to forestall for another three-score years yet. As my hidden foe now has two components I'd never expected uncovered, an inheritance more powerful than Netheril's writings will soon rise. I need you-we shall locate the scabbard in our own way-to participate in a high magic ritual out on the High Moor on the Feast of the Moon." "High magic?" Maskar said. "I have neither elf blood nor that kind of intimacy with the Weave, old friend." "I have it on good authority we'll have help in that regard."

"Who can promise you that?" The air around Khelben's head shimmered slightly, a hazy halo of stars coming into view. His eyes were rimmed with silver, and Maskar and Tsarra both gasped as Mystra's symbol manifested clearly for a breath before dissolving into the remnants of the sunbeam. "Very well," Maskar said. "What's the task-fully restoring Myth Drannor?" "No, though a few worthies of that realm may join us for the working. No, 'tis something older still. We need your wisdom as much as your knowledge of the Art for our ritual. Besides, you've little delight in these galas of overstuffed shirts. Join us at Malavar's Grasp, and help us tame magic that has slept for millennia."

"Getting away will take some doing, Blackstaff, especially if it needs to happen without undue notice. For me to disappear from my villa during a birthday feast in my honor will draw attention." "You're capable of slipping away without anyone the wiser, Maskar. Besides, it has been a score of years since you reminded people you're a wizard of power with many secrets they dare not invade." "Good point. My reputation is in need of repair, and it's been longer since I've been well and truly surprised by magic. What you're hinting at sounds too intriguing to miss. You have my promise to meet you at the Fallen One's Fingers, aye. I cannot break away earlier than daybreak on the Feast, but I shall meet you at Malavar's Grasp by moonrise, regardless of my family's wish for a three-day-revel." Lord Wands smiled as he shook both Khelben's and Tsarra's hands. "Are you well enough, Tsarra?

We need to move quickly now." Khelben helped her into a sitting position. "I think so," Tsarra said, standing up and stretching. Her balance was restored, and she readjusted her top to cover the belt again. "All right," Khelben said. "Many thanks, Lord Wands. It is now time we consulted with another god. I've a feeling there's much for us to learn at the feet of Oghma. Summon your tressym, Tsarra, and let us make haste for the Font of Knowledge. In the interests of both safety and propriety, we owe Sandrew the Wise a visit."