Key of Stars

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

The Year of the Secret (1396 DR)

Citadel of the Outer Void

Thoster helped wrap Raidon in fabric Anusha formed of dream silk. For all his bulk, he could manipulate objects with surprising delicacy.

“We’ll honor his last wishes,” said Anusha. “We’ll bury him in Faerun, in Nathlekh.”

“No honor is too great for him,” said Japheth. He reached for her hand, and she gave it to him.

“If you would permit it,” said Taal, “I would like to see Raidon laid to rest. If not for his wisdom, I might not have broken Malyanna’s thrall.”

“Of course,” said Anusha. Her voice had gone hoarse. Thoster wondered how that was possible, given that she wasn’t real, but figured now wasn’t the time to ask. The monk’s sacrifice was too fresh. It just wasn’t in him to crack wise.

They left the pristine face of the crystalline disk behind and descended the ziggurat stairs.

An armored capsule lay at the base of the pyramid.

“Time to wake up,” Anusha said, and disappeared. The gold capsule melted away, revealing the same woman, but now she wore sturdy clothes and her hair was pulled back in a fraying braid.

“Good to see you in the flesh again,” said Japheth.

She took his hand.

“The fog returns,” said Yeva, pointing.

The mist rolled back like a typhoon wave of white. The sound of thunder boomed from somewhere across the plain. The fog converged on all sides, until it broke upon the ziggurat, rushed up its sides, and enveloped them.

Except for the sounds of their breathing and footfalls, especially Yeva’s, silence closed around them, quieting the distant clamor.

By all rights, they should be skipping with joy, reflected Thoster. The world had escaped a horrific finale, something so beyond imagining that even the gods had failed to understand the threat and act.

Assuming Raidon’s intercession, and all their actions for that matter, hadn’t been divinely inspired. It was hard to know with gods.

They walked unmolested from the Citadel of the Outer Void and across the befogged plain. The only monster remaining below the haze was himself, Thoster thought.

He recalled the pain of assuming his bulky shape. And, to some extent, the process. He thought he could probably manage it in reverse.

He trailed a little behind the others, dropped his belongings, and put his hypothesis to the test.

He regarded his shadow, and tried to find within it his original shape.

It took all his concentration, and not a little pain, but eventually Thoster found his shape of old. He grunted and collapsed into his pile of clothing. But he was grinning. All the disfiguring scales that had so beleaguered him during the previous months were gone!

Thoster rose, and dressed in his underthings, coat, and boots, and girded his sword at his side. And, most important for last, his hat.

He grinned. It felt good to have his regular-sized teeth back.

But the blood of Dagon remained in his veins. Thoster suspected that if he wanted, he could call on that incredible power again.

If he dared. Some of the imagery and odd fragments of lore that stole into his head while he had fought the aberrations as a huge scaled monster were unsettling. It was probably a shape he should call upon sparingly. He resolved, should he ever manage to return to Faerun, to learn all he could regarding the ancient demon called Dagon.

He caught up to the others. Anusha saw him and said, “Good for you, Thoster.” He chuckled.

They reached the splintered remains of his ship. A group of eladrin camped in the lee of the starboard hull. Griffons stood in loose picket around the ship. The beasts raised their beaked heads to stare at the newcomers and loosed eagle cries.

The eladrin jumped into action, but quickly recognized they were not aberrations.

“Hail!” yelled one in flamboyant mage’s robes.

“Dayereth!” said Japheth. “You survived!”

“Can you believe it?” the wizard replied. “It was touch and go there for a while. I’ve never seen so many horrors …” His voice trailed off, and he wiped at his brow with a shaking hand.

“But you persevered,” the warlock said, prompting him.

“Yes, thank the Lady of the Moon,” said Dayereth. “And so did you. And you found new friends! Where … Oh.”

The wizard’s eyes had found Yeva, who carried Raidon’s draped form.

“He gave his life for the world,” said Japheth. “Erunyauve will be told of her son’s heroism.”

Dayereth dropped his gaze and said, “Given her power, I imagine she already knows.”

A long moment passed. All present stared at the half-elf’s shrouded remains. Thoster recalled again how the monk had stepped confidently to the buckling crystal and had done what needed doing without hesitation. He felt tightness in his throat and coughed.

“When the mists returned, the creatures attacking us fled upward,” said the wizard. “Those that couldn’t fly dissolved on contact. After that, we decided to wait and see who might return from the Citadel.”

“Got anything to eat or drink?” Thoster asked.

“We have a little,” replied Dayereth. “Should we break out rations before we try our luck returning across the void?”

“I could eat a horse,” said Anusha. Japheth chuckled, and she smiled at him.

A knight handed Thoster a wineskin. He upended the bag, drawing down most of the contents in a single swallow. It was wonderful. Of course, he’d have preferred ale, but eladrin spirits would do in a pinch.

His eyes drifted across the plain as he wiped his mouth.

“Hey!” he said, pointing. “Where’d Xxiphu go?”

All heads turned to the crater where the aboleth city had rested. It was vacant.

“By the Nine!” exclaimed Japheth.

“It departed,” said Dayereth. “When the fog began to return, it rose straight into the sky on a pillar of noisome gas. The thunder of its going rocked the entire plain. Did you hear it?”

Thoster remembered the thunder that had accompanied the mist’s return.

“Then what?” said Anusha.

“It plunged into the discontinuity,” replied the wizard.

“Then we should depart quickly, in case it threatens the Watchtowers,” said Anusha.

“The time disparity between here and Forever’s Edge means years have streamed by at the Edge,” said Dayerth. “Whatever Xxiphu did or didn’t do has already happened long in the past.”

“Time disparity?” said Thoster and Anusha in chorus.

“Erunyauve explained how time moves differently here,” said Japheth.

Taal spoke up. “Past the periphery of the Feywild, time moves slower than in the world,” he said. “The farther one travels from the border, the slower it passes. Even at Forever’s Edge, the effect is noticeable. The upshot is that though I’ve only spent about fifteen years in Malyanna’s service, several centuries have passed in Faerun. Out here, beyond the Edge, the differential is even more pronounced.”

“Then we should leave here at once!” said Anusha. “How much time has passed in Faerun?”

“Difficult to say,” said Dayereth. “But I take your point. Knights! Prepare your mounts and chariots for departure!”

Anusha returned to her dreamform, and encased her body within the protective capsule once more. The passage back through the discontinuity and across the void might be dangerous. Even though Raidon had locked the Far Manifold, hopefully for good, leakage from the portal was still an issue, as were the existing aberrations.

From a separate chariot, Japheth watched Anusha secure the golden encasement.

She joined him in her dreamform, dispersing her golden armor. In its place she imagined herself in a demure but fashionable green gown. Fashionable when she’d left Faerun, anyhow.

“Well met, fairheart,” Japheth said. “You’re going to ride with me?”

“Where else?” she said. He smiled, and she stepped into his embrace.

She was so very glad to see him again. More than glad-a tangible feeling of connection warmed even her dream.

“I missed you,” she said. It was true, though she had been so caught up in events she hadn’t realized it until that moment.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Japheth said. “When you insisted we separate, I’m afraid my feelings were hurt, child that I am.”

She cupped his face and shook her head. She knew how he felt about her-it was written plain across his features. Not to mention how he’d endangered the world to save her. What surprised her was she realized she felt the same.

Seeing the Far Manifold shudder open and a universe of madness nearly spill through and consume everything you’ve ever known has a way of rearranging your priorities. She chuckled.

“What?” Japheth asked.

“I was just reflecting about what’s important,” she said. “At least, what I once thought was. And … Well, I’m thinking a little differently now, is all.”

“Mmm,” Japheth said, touching his lips to her forehead.

“You held the Far Manifold from breaking open completely after Malyanna unlocked it,” she said.

“Yeah. I didn’t know if it would work. I had to use the star pact to forge a connection. If I hadn’t had the gloves, I would have been lost. And Neifion, even as he fell to Malyanna, lent me a last gasp of fey strength too, if you can believe that.”

“Did you know I was on top of the ziggurat?”

“No. I didn’t know for sure where you were. For all I knew, you’d been killed.” Remembered concern pinched his mouth for an instant.

“But you did it anyway. You put the world ahead of yourself. You’re not a child. You’re a man. A man I love.”

He ducked his head and pressed his lips to hers. Japheth’s kiss was warm and tasted like him.