Key of Stars

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

The Year of the Secret (1396 DR)

Citadel of the Outer Void

Storm light ripped flickering lines across Taal’s eyelids. Agony clogged his throat, ran like magma in his veins, and crouched on his back like a red-hot anvil, holding him face-down against a surface that rubbed at his skin like sandpaper. All around him, shrieks like a chorus of fervent devils pierced his ears.

He was dead. His soul had been dropped into the Nine Hells for an eternity of torture.

Except … that couldn’t be.

Anything beyond the discontinuity, including the Citadel of the Outer Void, lay outside the dominion of the gods. Even the disposition of immortal souls! Instead of being taken up by Kelemvor, spirits of the slain would simply fall and gutter out like dying embers.

He couldn’t be a disembodied soul feeling the first lashes of eternity’s punishment; the fact he was having these thoughts at all meant … he was still alive.

Why? Taal wondered.

He’d openly defied his oath. He’d aided an enemy of Malyanna, then instructed that same enemy to kill her.

The memory spiked fresh lava across his skin, and he cried out.

And still he didn’t die, though the pain was so extreme he wished he could expire to escape its viselike jaws.

If the oath didn’t have the clout to kill him, there at the Citadel of the Outer Void where his mistress’s power was arguably stronger than anywhere else, had it ever had the power to slay him?

It didn’t seem likely.

The disconnect reminded him of something. Something that hadn’t completely hung together, though he’d accepted it at the time. When they’d arrived at the ziggurat’s base, Malyanna had crowed how she’d known all along about his secret misgivings in serving her. According to the eladrin, those misgivings were sufficient to allow him to deactivate the defenses of the Citadel; they showed he wasn’t an aberration or touched by aberrations, because he served his oath first.

But Malyanna had sworn him to an oath that would kill him if he swayed from serving her. And she was a priestess of the Sovereignty! Wasn’t that the definition of being “touched” by an aberration? Whether forced into service or choosing to take up service willingly, he was a servitor; he had no choice but death or do the will of Malyanna, thanks to the magic she’d imparted when he had sworn the oath.

Yet he wasn’t dead, and he had been able to bypass the Citadel’s defenses.

Which meant what? he wondered.

It meant, he realized, that despite what she’d originally claimed and repeated over the years, Malyanna hadn’t woven a ritual of lethal enforcement into the oath he’d sworn to her.

The only thing that powered the oath, he realized, was the strength of his own belief that once one’s word was given, that word should never be foresworn, no matter what.

He remembered Raidon asking him how that made any sense at all, given that the world was a changeable place. Situations change, people change, and new information comes to light. He’d always believed that being unwavering in one’s beliefs and in one’s duties and obligations was a sign of true strength-the sign of someone above the common, changeable rabble, who could flip-flop on an issue with hardly a care.

As he lay there puzzling it out, it came to Taal that sticking to one’s stated intention-or oath-regardless of how the situation changed, was more reasonably the sign of a simpleton.

The monk from Faerun was right.

For the very first time since he’d taken his oath, Taal felt shame.

Always before he’d felt at least some pride at his ability to keep his word no matter what the provocation. He recognized, finally, at the end of everything, that it had been fool’s pride all along.

If he could do it over again, he’d break that oath the moment he realized Malyanna was playing him false.

The searing pain lifted away from him like a kite on the wind.

Taal rubbed his eyes. He rose.

The abominations who’d answered the call of his mistress surged all around him. Their combined utterances were a grinding, chattering, teeth-gritting rasp. Many moved to contest the progress of a enormous humanoid with green scales, despite it seeming nearly as much of an aberration as those it contested.

He witnessed an enormous white griffon slash terrible wounds in the flanks of the shadow hound Tamur. The hound fastened its teeth on the griffon’s neck.

Reflected in a sheen of oily slime on the ground, he saw a woman in golden armor gutting an aboleth, then a gelatinous insect, and then a four-headed leech in quick succession. He marveled, because he couldn’t see her except in the reflection. Then she was gone again.

A figure made of iron, much dented and scraped, topped the stairs. It commenced projecting bolts of psychic energy into the backs of the aberrations that sought to swarm the green scaled giant.

Arrowing away from Taal and toward the base of the Far Manifold was Raidon. Raidon moved like a shark through a wave-tossed sea, with his sword as his dorsal fin, blazing like a cerulean beacon. Aberrations either scrambled out of his way or died on the blade.

And there was the Lady of Winter’s Peace-she who’d bound him in his own misplaced sense of duty for centuries, at least according to how much time had passed in Faerun. She was locked in mortal combat with a leviathan bat!

“Time for you to die, Malyanna,” Taal said. “And, by my hand, I … hope!” He grinned, because he’d almost said, “I swear!”

Taal ran after Raidon. The monk from Faerun had a large head start, and would reach Malyanna before Taal could. But not by much.

Raidon swept the Blade Cerulean through the flesh of something with too many arms drenched in red slime. It fell directly in his path, its limbs suddenly a frenzy of whipping branches in its death throes. He leaped over it. A surge of strength from Angul as he jumped lent his feet wings. He whisked over the heads, eyes, and waving tentacles of half a dozen creatures before they realized he was near.

The monk came down in a clear space, rolled twice, and was on his feet running forward again in one continuous movement.

A gangling horselike creature without a face tried to scramble out of Raidon’s way, so he ignored it, until one of its dozens of flailing hooves caught him in the shoulder like the blow of a mace. The force spun him around, and Angul lopped off the offending leg without his conscious direction. A heartbeat later, the pain of the strike was also smoothed away by the Blade Cerulean, and Raidon rushed on.

He reached the raised dais of pitted metal directly in front of the Far Manifold. The crystal’s overpowering size, the horrific images that squirmed behind it, and the crack that marred its face, promising apocalypse, finally gave the monk pause.

Malyanna stood before the gate as if it were merely a backdrop prepared for her presence. The woman’s eyes were flickering points of starfire. She wielded the Dreamheart in one hand like a mage’s implement. From it emerged erratic bolts of pale energy. The bolts struck a massive bat lying twitching on the ground at her feet.

Was it Japheth? Raidon wondered. No, it was Neifion, fighting Malyanna!

The giant bat shuddered. Neifion screeched out an invocation, and his bat wings burned with shimmering emerald light. Neifion leaped at the eladrin noble, and attempted to encircle Malyanna in his ensorcelled wings.

Raidon jumped onto the dais. Between them, he and the Lord of Bats-

A shadow sunk teeth into his neck, and a black paw raked his side, scraping away a swathe of skin. He’d forgotten about the Shadowfell mastiff.

The shadow hound shook its head, its hide rippling night, as it tried to snap Raidon’s neck.

The monk twisted, and drove his elbow into the side of the dog’s face with all of his weight.

Tamur howled, and its jaws relaxed. The monk spun away. Warm, sticky blood poured down his arm and torso, and a wave of dizziness made the monk falter. Where blood ran across his spellscar, it flashed into coppery steam.

The thing had nearly torn out his throat! Raidon thought.

We have no time to deal with this beast, said Angul. The blade sent a jolt of energy through its hilt, and Raidon’s pain and weakness lessened. He assumed the rent in his neck was closing.

Tamur didn’t wait-it advanced on Raidon with its hackles up and its teeth bared. Its growl was distant thunder. It had no fear of the aberration-burning fire; it was a creature of Shadow.

The shadow mastiff yelped in surprise as blood, red as the monk’s own, burst from its side. The dog tried to bite the empty air, but found no purchase for its teeth.

Another slash opened on the dog’s flank. It proved too much. Tamur bolted, its tail between its legs, blood pooling behind it.

Raidon was as surprised as Tamur. “Who-?” he started to call.

“It’s me, Raidon!” came a disembodied voice. Anusha!

“Where’s Japheth?” she said. He didn’t waste time trying to locate her exact position-his regard returned to Malyanna and Neifion’s conflict.

“Answer me!” came the woman’s voice from directly in front of him.

“He’s here,” Raidon said, “He’s alive. He’s somewhere off that way.” He waved to where he and the warlock had been set down on the ziggurat’s top by the griffon.

“Oh gods, thank you,” she murmured.

“Malyanna used the Key of Stars to unlock the Far Manifold,” said Raidon. “The crack is the precursor of the portal giving way completely. I don’t know why it hasn’t. Maybe the warlock is using his powers to hold it in check?”

“He is?” asked Anusha.

“Something is slowing it,” said Raidon. “Which may give us a chance!”

He took a step, but weakness made his legs tremble. His focus kept frustration at bay.

“Heal me, Angul,” he urged the sword. “Completely!”

Your head was nearly off, the sword returned. Bide a moment longer.

Raidon saw that Neifion had regained the air. The archfey folded his wings and dived at Malyanna. The woman scrambled to the side, but one massive wing cracked across her sternum. The blow knocked her head over heels across the dais. The Dreamheart went flying from her grasp. She landed in a heap, but her smile never left her face.

She rose, her limbs coming down to her sides as her head rose up, as if she were being drawn up by an invisible string. For some reason, the sight clawed at Raidon’s focus.

The Lord of Bats stood where Malyanna had before he’d sent her sprawling. “Close the gate, bitch of Winter’s Peace, or I will take every last drop of your blood,” he said.

The archfey advanced.

“Blood is overrated,” Malyanna said.

She glanced down. Raidon thought she’d look for the Dreamheart, but she seemed fascinated by the oily sludge seeping through the Far Manifold’s crack. It was glossy black, but within it, Raidon saw winking stars, nebula, and the hint of space without end.

The eladrin extended a toe as if testing the water.

“Acamar, corpse star and eater of your kin; lend me your all-devouring regard!” she yelled.

Rivulets of darkness poured up her leg. In a twinkling, Malyanna was covered head to foot in a shroud of night. She had become an eladrin-shaped puncture in the air. A cold wind howled, as the very air around Malyanna was drawn in.

Neifion halted. “What blasphemy from the Hells’ nethermost crater have you called upon yourself?” he said, his tone incredulous.

The thing that was Malyanna had no mouth but darkness. Her eyes were twin celestial whirlpools, one red, one blue. Her elaborate gown, which she’d somehow managed to keep pristine up to that moment, began to shred and tatter, as if mere contact with the midnight flesh was anathema to normal matter.

Malyanna’s voice rang in the air, sourceless. “You should have stayed true to our alliance, Neifion,” she said.

The avatar in Malyanna’s shape raised a hand, its palm facing Neifion. The howling wind increased tenfold, and the Lord of Bats was drawn across the intervening space.

Raidon felt the same tug of attraction, but the dais’s solid edge against his shins allowed him to resist the pull.

Neifion was not so lucky. The Lord of Bats scrabbled and tried to dig his claws into the metallic surface beneath him, but to no avail. He collided with the smaller figure.

When Malyanna’s hand touched Neifion, his wings melted to nothing and his great size withered away. He was, once again, a pale bald man, immaculately dressed, but gripped around the neck by a creature of devouring night.

“Good-bye, Neifion,” said Malyanna.

“Japheth, I bequeath thee my strength-,” the Lord of Bats yelled.

Raidon flinched as Neifion was ripped apart, then dragged down to disappear in the unending darkness of Malyanna’s empty form.

“Oh,” came Anusha’s voice from somewhere close.

Oh, indeed. Raidon hadn’t expected the Lord of Bats to fall so suddenly. He shouldn’t have taken the moment to rest, but should have joined Neifion while the archfey kept her partly distracted.

The monk jumped up onto the dais. His strength wasn’t yet completely returned, but the pain in his neck was a memory suppressed by Angul.

The eladrin’s blank regard turned on him. The wind howled, and he slid toward her wide-armed embrace.

Raidon concentrated on the Cerulean Sign. Clear light burst from his chest and washed forward, enveloping Malyanna.

The moment the sapphire illumination touched her, the wind ceased. Raidon came to rest mere paces from the woman, who had raised a hand as if to shade her empty face from his spellscar’s brightness.

Angul blazed too, its own intensity nearly equaling that of the Sign. Malyanna retreated half a step.

“Lock the gate, Malyanna, or I will strike you down,” Raidon said. “Then whatever happens, you will not be around to savor in your victory, or plan a future treachery.”

“Impossible,” Malyanna replied. “Only a handful of Keys were forged when the Far Manifold was created. With each one’s destruction, the Far Manifold’s integrity weakened. The leakage from across the dimensions increased. Mortals forgot what the Keys were for. But the Eldest remembered! A Key’s ultimate function can only be called on once-to lock, or unlock the gate. And I just used the last surviving Key to unlock it. Nothing can close it again! It’s only a matter of time before the worlds collapse beneath the return of the dominion that predates the cosmos!”

“If you unlocked it, why hasn’t the gate opened completely?” said Raidon.

“Because … some meddler is interfering!” Malyanna said. One of her arms came up and pointed to a spot in the air behind Raidon. He risked a quick glance and saw only a patch of empty sky.

Lightning made of midnight traced from her pointing finger. When it reached the empty spot, Japheth was revealed in an explosion of bruised light.

The warlock shuddered with the impact of the dark beam, and fell.

He hit the ground in an area clear of aberrations. The monsters that weren’t standing enthralled by Malyanna’s transformation or the Far Manifold itself were clustered around a crazed, green scaled monstrosity. And, farther away … Was that Yeva?

“I can’t hold it anymore,” yelled Japheth. “The gate’s opening!”

The sound of splintering crystal confirmed the warlock’s claim.

Raidon knew that they were finally out of time. He charged Malyanna, moving with all the speed of his training.

He slashed and drew Angul completely through one of the woman’s wrists even as she extended her arm in a warding gesture.

The hand came away from her arm and flew into the air, but didn’t drop to the ground.

Instead, it buzzed around his head like a giant horsefly and slapped onto Raidon’s shoulder. It squeezed.

The severed hand might as well have been liquid acid. The moment it touched him, it seared through his shirt and found his flesh. The hand began to dissolve away his skin.

Raidon gritted his teeth but a grunt of pain escaped him anyhow.

Angul blazed, and the pain dulled. But the hand remained, sinking into his arm.

Slice it off, instructed his sword.

Raidon backed away from Malyanna, and brought the sword around like a massive razor. He used it to scrape the devouring hand away, along with a great strip of skin and not a little muscle. Angul flared with true heat, cauterizing the wound even as its blade made it.

The moment the loose hand lost contact, it took to the air once again. It went to Malyanna and fitted itself back to the stump of her wrist.

The sound of breaking crystal grew louder. The distorted visages and vistas visible through the crystal facets pressed closer. Something akin to the Eldest crouched just across the barrier, though it was at least five times the Eldest’s size. It, and everything else, was about to break through en masse.

Even louder than the failing Far Manifold was the sound of the eladrin noble’s triumphant laughter.

Taal jumped up on the dais next to Raidon. He had the Dreamheart clutched in one hand. Raidon raised Angul to strike the man down, but Anusha appeared suddenly between him and Taal. “Wait,” she urged.

“Malyanna!” Taal yelled, raising the Dreamheart. “I’m done with you!”

“Taal,” the eladrin said. “You were ever my favorite. So easy to manipulate, my most loyal pawn for all these years. Only now do you find your independence, when I’ve already won. Even that trinket you hold, as if it made a difference any longer, is meaningless. The Far Realm is here!”

Taal wound up, then hurled the Dreamheart at Malyanna. Instead of being absorbed as Raidon had expected, the orb smashed her backward with the force of a stone sphere shot from a catapult.

“No!” she screamed.

The nightmare-clad woman struck the crystal disk. Despite its appearance of solidity, it parted like smoke around her convulsing body and closed behind her again with an eye-watering ripple.

Malyanna was gone.