Sands of the Soul

CHAPTER 7

"Which way now?" Tazi asked.

She, Steorf, Asraf, and the other two Children of Ibrandul had been maneuvering through the lower tunnels for just a short time. Already Tazi felt some disorientation. Every tunnel looked the same, with very few distinguishing features. The rocks were just rocks to her, no different from each other than blades of grass in a meadow.

"I don't understand how you're able to tell one tunnel from the next," she marveled.

"You wouldn't," replied the only clean-shaven novice in the group.

Tazi wasn't certain if he was being condescending to her or not. She did notice that none of the Children of Ibrandul had bothered to give their names to her or Steorf. In fact, they only knew Asraf's name because the Lurker had referred to him by name in front of them.

Are they not supposed to tell us their names, or is it a subtle way to snub us? Tazi wondered.

"That's why we're fortunate to have you to lead us," she said diplomatically.

When she received no response, she turned to Steorf and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "I tried." But he maintained his silence as well and she gave up her attempts to make conversation.

I wonder how my father manages to manipulate a room full of different merchants and get anything done? she wondered as she started to envy his ability to maneuver others so expertly. A compliment didn't work, so maybe a somewhat pertinent question might.

"Just how long ago was the last Dark Bazaar?" Tazi asked.

None of the Children of Ibrandul were quick to respond. After a look passed between the three, the beardless novice finally answered her.

"More than likely, it occurred last night."

"But you don't know for certain," Steorf remarked.

Tazi knew he was pleased to show her that their guides were far from omniscient.

"We've never been to one," Asraf chimed in.

"Why not?" Tazi asked, glad that at least Asraf was willing to offer some information without too much solicitation.

"They are very grave occasions," the beardless novice interrupted him. Tazi watched as he cowed Asraf with one serious glare. "As our Mysterious Lurker tried to explain to you, we have never needed to resort to these measures for information."

Tazi was definitely sure that the beardless acolyte was belittling them.

"Desperate times call for equal measures," Tazi replied, tired of the verbal fencing and insulting innuendo. "We aren't afraid to take any chance to save Fannah, no matter what the cost."

Steorf nodded in agreement.

She and Steorf marched on in silence for a while after that, behind the three Children of Ibrandul.

Tazi shivered occasionally as they descended into the cooler depths, and she thought longingly of her jellaba back at the temple. While her leathers would not slow her down like a robe might, her arms were left bare, and she shivered.

She also tried to look carefully at the different rock formations to see if there were discernible landmarks. In a few of the tunnels they went through, the group had to pass single file as the walls were extremely narrow. Others opened up into comfortable passageways that allowed them all to walk abreast of each other. Most of them had a little light, and Tazi recognized some of the first tunnels they walked through as main thoroughfares of sorts. They were lit with semi-permanent glow spells.

As they progressed deeper into the system, the lights grew more sporadic. Tazi relied completely on the Children of Ibrandul's unerring ability to navigate in the darkness.

"Do you really know these tunnels that well?" she finally broke down and asked Asraf.

The young Calishite fiddled with his black and purple robes and sneaked a peak at the other Children of Ibrandul. Tazi realized he did want to talk to her but was hesitant to speak, so she slowed her pace imperceptibly. As a result of that, she and Asraf fell a bit behind Steorf and the other two.

"I think I would probably get lost down here if I were alone," Tazi said. "Did it take you long to learn the layout of all of these tunnels?"

"Oh," Asraf answered after he saw that his two companions were just beyond hearing, "I haven't learned about all of the tunnels. I don't think I could know them if I dedicated the rest of my life to studying them."

"There are that many under Calimport?" Tazi asked, wanting to keep him talking.

"There are as many tunnels as there are grains of sand in the Calim Desert," he answered with a little reverence in his voice.

"And yet you know your way well enough in these," she replied.

"I know many," he answered proudly. "And I certainly know where most of the dangerous ones are in our area, but even some of the ones we're passing through right now are new to me."

"But you move through the darkness as though it were day," she said.

Asraf gave her a smirk in the gloom and answered, "That's because I walk the Dark Path of Ibrandul. It's a very basic spell that all the novices know."

"It lets you see in the dark," Tazi deduced.

Asraf laughed.

"You're quick," he complimented her, "but that's not quite it. The spell doesn't let me see in the dark so much as it lets me know where things are. You recognize the difference?"

Tazi tipped her head.

"Of course I do. I'm quick," she said, smiling warmly.

Asraf laughed again, and Tazi thought his voice had some of the same musical qualities that Fannah's possessed.

Steorf heard their merriment and dropped back to join them. Tazi could see that the beardless novice and his silent companion didn't notice their exchange. The two had switched to speaking Alzhedo and it looked to Tazi as though they were arguing over some marks on the wall. The silent novice was motioning back, but his beardless friend shook his head fiercely and pointed forward.

Wouldn't it be funny if they were lost for a change? Tazi laughed to herself.

"What trouble are you brewing back here?" Steorf asked Tazi, but included Asraf with a glance.

Tazi could see that he was trying to make amends for his first encounter with Asraf.

I don't know if Asraf will understand what he's doing, she thought.

"Nothing that any quick person couldn't work their way out of," she said aloud, with a wink to Asraf.

"Are you both going to wink your way to the Dark Bazaar?" he asked them.

"If that's what it takes, that's what we'll do. Right, Asraf?" Tazi asked as she clapped him on his shoulder.

The smiling Child of Ibrandul grew silent. Tazi was afraid she might have offended him either by making a joke of the Dark Bazaar or by using his name or both. She was about to ask him which was true when the other two Children of Ibrandul backtracked to them.

"What are you standing here for?" the beardless novice demanded abruptly.

"It's my fault," Tazi volunteered. "I tripped in the darkness, and my companion and this Child of Ibrandul stopped to help me."

She pointedly avoided using Asraf's proper name.

The normally silent novice chuckled condescendingly and the beardless one replied, "Watch your step. We can't carry you all the way, you know."

Tazi squeezed Steorf's hand and before he could say a word answered, "I'll try to be less clumsy."

"See that you do," the beardless Child of Ibrandul replied and turned with his comrade to continue the march.

Steorf and Tazi fell in behind them, and Asraf brought up the rear.

"Why did you say that?" Steorf asked softly.

"I can tell those two," she nodded ahead, "already think we're foolish and incompetent, so it was a story they'd believe easily enough. Truth is, I didn't want Asraf to get into trouble for talking so much with us."

Steorf raised a corner of his mouth and looked down at her with a gentle gaze.

"You're all right," he said, "sometimes."

She intentionally bumped gently into his side with her body and replied, "So are you… sometimes."

She giggled quietly.

Asraf heard and watched everything that Tazi and Steorf did, and a troubled look crossed his face.

After a long and silent hike, the group turned a corner and the tunnel opened up into a huge chamber nearly as large as the main room of the Skulking God's Temple. Massive stalactites and stalagmites littered the space, and the darkness would have been absolute if the whole chamber hadn't been covered with phosphorescent lichen. It looked like a clear night sky just missing a moon.

"It's beautiful," Tazi said in a hushed tone.

"It is," Steorf agreed. "Do you hear something, though?"

Tazi listened closely.

"I hear water dripping. How can that be?" she asked Asraf.

"I'm not sure I hear it," he answered, and Tazi thought he sounded troubled.

"I'm not making it up," she defended herself. "I do hear water dripping in the distance."

"There is no water down this deep," Asraf explained. "But-" he paused for some time before continuing- "that sound is one of the ways Ibrandul can manifest himself here in the more arid regions, or so I've been told."

The other two novices moved off to examine something that Tazi, as closely as she scrutinized, couldn't see in the dark cavern. She took the opportunity to ask Asraf another question.

"Is there anything you could tell us about the Skulking God that might be of importance to us? I realize," she added to make certain he was not offended, "that everything about him is very important to you."

Asraf made sure the other Children of Ibrandul weren't close enough to hear then said, "Ibrandul rose in the form of a great lizard to free humans who had been enslaved for centuries by evil drow. He prefers to walk alone through the tunnels, sometimes appearing to others as a great lizard, and sometimes as a man who looks like he's made from obsidian with burning eyes."

"Does he do much besides roam the tunnels?" Steorf questioned.

"The Lord of the Dry Depths always aids humans who travel in the hostile underground, and protects those who worship him from ever being harmed by the drow again," Asraf replied.

An albino moth, the size of a bird, fluttered by, and Tazi gasped slightly at the sight of the nocturnal insect. She chuckled at her foolish reaction, and Asraf laughed.

"It is different down here. Don't you have creatures like that in the Land Above?" he asked.

"Don't you ever venture up there?" Steorf inquired, before Tazi had a chance to answer.

"I have never seen the sun," he answered seriously.

"Never?" Tazi exclaimed.

"When we are initiated into the Enveloping Darkness, as our worship is more properly known," Asraf replied, "we learn that there is absolute freedom in absolute darkness. We are not bound by some arbitrary rising and falling of a glowing orb to dictate our days. Things are not good or evil in the dark, they just are."

"But to never see the Land Above…" Tazi started to say.

"You never knew of the Underdark before you came here, did you?" he asked simply.

"No, that's true."

"Did you think your life was shallower or that you were somehow cheated because you were never in this perfect darkness?" Asraf challenged her without reproach.

"I don't think I was cheated," she answered carefully, "but I'm certainly glad I came here and saw this."

"Just because I can't see all the colors of this stone," the young novice explained, "doesn't mean I don't realize its beauty." He slowly rubbed his hand against the smooth rock. "The coolness of the stone, the texture under my fingers, those are all part of its uniqueness that is not lost on me. My parents made the right choice when they left me as an infant in these tunnels."

"They abandoned you here?" Steorf exclaimed.

"They placed me under Ibrandul's care," Asraf corrected him. "Here is where I live, and here is where I will someday die."

The quiet pride and contentment in his voice was not lost on Tazi.

"And it will be a full life," she added.

"You are quick," he teased.

Tazi laughed at their shared joke and moved a little farther away, her hand trailing along some of the stalagmites, suddenly appreciating the feel of the rock. She watched as more of the winged insects fluttered between stalactites like shooting stars.

Asraf studied Steorf and finally said, "You still don't understand how this can be enough for me."

"No," he admitted honestly, "I guess I can't."

"All of us have forces that guide us, and drive us as well. It's just that sometimes other people can't see them and so they have a hard time understanding."

"I suppose," Steorf agreed.

"For instance, I don't really know why you're here," he solemnly asked, "on this complicated mission."

"I'm here because my friend asked me to come. There's nothing complicated about it," Steorf answered.

The young Calishite leaned closer to the mage and whispered, "She's a little more than a friend, isn't she?"

Tazi could feel Steorf's eyes burning into her back. She pretended to be fascinated by a stalactite formation and unaware of the very personal conversation carrying on behind her. She didn't want to embarrass Steorf by teasing him, but there was also a tiny part of Tazi that wanted to hear his honest answer.

"What are you talking about?" Steorf asked Asraf, discreetly lowering his voice.

The young man smiled guilelessly and said, "You announce your feelings with every act you commit near her."

"What?"

"You jumped to protect her when you thought I might have done her harm, and-" Asraf began.

"I would have done that for any of my friends," Steorf interrupted. "And you wouldn't have been able to harm her," he added rather seriously, raising a finger in warning.

"You think not?" Asraf questioned, but Steorf could see that he was speaking in jest, and he relaxed a little. "Even that statement shows how you feel."

"I am a loyal man," Steorf stated simply.

Unseen by either of them, Tazi winced a little. Ever since Steorf had told her of Ebeian's death, she had started to feel some of the old closeness growing again. After all, seven years of friendship and wildings had forged a unique bond between them that she didn't share with another living soul. It was hard to forget. The two-year pause in their relationship hadn't changed much between them after all, Tazi was slowly realizing. She found herself slipping into a comfortable rhythm with Steorf again and there had definitely been a moment between them just before the Children of Ibrandul had come for them.

But when Tazi heard Steorf use the word "loyal," it was as if someone had torn open a newly healed wound in her. All the accusations Ciredor had made two years before regarding Steorf's paid companionship came crashing in on her again, and she wondered if she could ever really move past it all and trust Steorf completely again.

Unaware of her turmoil, Asraf continued with Steorf.

"I see you are a loyal man. That's my point. You're here with her on a deadly mission, you protect her whenever you can, and most importantly, I see the way you look at her."

"And how is that?" Steorf asked lightly.

"At certain moments like she is some precious jewel that has bewitched you," Asraf explained, "and at other times, you gaze at her like a man in the desert looks at an icy pool of water."

Tazi laughed to herself.

Asraf certainly has a flowery sort of way with words, she thought. Some of those books in the council room must be filled with romantic fables. He really does need to get above ground now and then.

Not caring to hear Steorf's sarcastic reply to that one, Tazi moved a little faster to catch up with the older Children of Ibrandul and passed out of earshot.

Steorf silently regarded Asraf.

After a few moments, he replied, "You do see well. There is something about Thazienne that cools the turmoil within me."

Asraf was surprised.

"I didn't think you'd admit to it so easily" he said.

"In all likelihood, we won't survive this encounter with Ciredor, so my secret will die with you."

"I'm pretty hard to kill," Asraf said glibly, "so your lady friend might just find out your deep, dark secret."

Not knowing how to respond to that, Steorf abruptly said, "We best catch up with your comrades, before they get too exasperated at having to wait for us foolish Land Abovers."

He and Asraf walked quickly over to the two other Children of Ibrandul. Steorf bumped into Tazi.

"I didn't see you," he said.

"I'm getting better at this maneuvering in the darkness," she answered seriously. "Maybe Ibrandul is on our side after all."

Tazi couldn't see Asraf's frown at her words.

When they came up beside the Children of Ibrandul, the beardless novice startled both Tazi and Steorf by his next statement.

"I'm sorry it took us so long," he began apologetically, "but we wanted to make certain that we-" he indicated his silent companion and himself-"had read the signs properly. We realize how important it is to find the Night Market."

"Just there," he continued, motioning beyond the cavern, "the path goes on for about twenty feet or so and it splits in two directions."

"You must take care to walk along the right side," the normally silent novice finally said to them.

As they exited the cavern, the darkness grew rapidly. Both Tazi and Steorf had to rely on tactile sensations to navigate, and Tazi was rather pleased with herself that she actually was becoming more adept the longer they traveled in the tunnels. She wasn't aware that the older Children of Ibrandul were lagging after them.

Tazi could barely see Steorf in her peripheral vision, so deep were they now. Close behind she heard Asraf muttering. Tazi squelched a smile at that.

He certainly is a chatterbox, she thought and was suddenly very glad of his company.

He was as different from his companions, she realized, as day to night.

If the only guides we'd had were the two nameless ones, I wouldn't be as certain in finding the Dark Bazaar as I am with Asraf along.

Tazi was so caught up in feeling her way into the next passage along the right that she didn't notice that she and Steorf were on their own.

Asraf stood at the crossroads. His young face twisted up in confusion and he chewed furiously on his lower lip. A glance to the left revealed the retreating shapes of his fellow Children of Ibrandul, men he had studied and worshiped with for years. To the right, he could just barely separate Tazi's slim form from the clutching darkness of the shadows. He knew she and her companion were not the danger he had been led to believe they were.

After a heartbeat more, his face resolved into a determined set. He moved rapidly down the tunnel after Tazi, but the screams started soon after.

In a chamber deep beyond the counsel room that he had let the gharabs enter, the Mysterious Lurker sat behind an ornately carved stone desk. He had removed his outer robe and left it draped over a divan pushed against the side of one wall. Other than those two pieces of furniture, the room was bare of decoration. The only other item was a lone bookcase. Unlike the meeting room that was stuffed with books and scrolls, this set of shelves only contained a few pieces of parchment, but these were carefully tied up, not left as haphazardly open as the ones the strangers saw.

While he sipped from an obsidian chalice, he wondered briefly how far along in their journey the Children of Ibrandul and the strangers were. The priest shook his head and knew Ibrandul's Children would not disappoint him. He leaned back, sure that his novices were leading the two exactly where they needed to go and their part in all of this would be done.

The Lurker removed a small stack of papers from a niche in the desk and began to study them closely. He rubbed at his eyes and moved a candle closer so that the papers were in the ruddy pool of light.

"These eyes of mine are weary," he murmured finally and set the papers down.

The Lurker rested his head in his hands and did not hear the slight rustle behind him. A figure in black stepped out of the shadows along the far wall.

"Tired?" the black figure asked silkily.

The Lurker whipped around in his chair and squinted defensively at the voice.

"Who's there?" he asked.

The dark shape moved into the circle of candlelight. While still dressed in black, Ciredor had exchanged his tight fitting leathers for the loose silks of Calimport's elite. His vest had gold threads embroidered in strange patterns, their meaning known only to him. His outer robe billowed behind him like a storm cloud as he descended on the senior priest of Ibrandul.

"What are you doing here?" the Lurker inquired, sounding somewhat fearful.

"I am just here to keep my part of the bargain," Ciredor answered easily.

Without any further preamble, he withdrew a sheaf of papers. The Lurker wiped his hand across his lips and shakily accepted the bundle of parchments. He reached for them as a drowning man would an offered hand. It was hard for the priest to hide the gleam in his eye and the Lurker was certain his eagerness was not lost on Ciredor.

After carefully paging through the stack twice, the Lurker looked up at him with barely concealed awe. There was a bit of a quaver in his voice when he spoke next to the necromancer.

"I-I don't know how you managed to find these pages," the Lurker began.

He watched as Ciredor nodded benevolently in response, but he did not offer to explain where the velum sheets had come from.

"For the last few months," the Lurker continued when he realized that Ciredor was going to remain taciturn, "you have so diligently searched out these lost words of Ibrandul. If you hadn't come to us, who knows whose hands these pages might have fallen into. Even I was unaware of their existence."

"I have long been a supplicant of the Lurker in Darkness," Ciredor finally replied. "It has been not only my duty, but that of my father and my father's father to spend our lives in search of these artifacts."

"I am only the first in my family," the priest said with a lowered head, "to embrace the Lord of the Dry Depths."

He was humbled in front of someone so dedicated to Ibrandul. The priest felt an icy finger under his chin tilt his face upward.

"I am glad," Ciredor said with some emphasis, "to have discovered a sect of Children of Ibrandul so devout to my god. Only in Waterdeep have I come close to finding followers a fraction as pious as yours."

The Lurker sat a little straighter, bolstered by this sincere compliment. He did believe that his novices were most accomplished and that bit of pride gave him the ability to respond.

"It only serves to follow that we would be the most loyal," the priest explained. "After all, Calimshan is the home of Ibrandul. He rose from our desert."

Not wanting to insult any other group of followers-and he realized that Ciredor must come from one of those-he hastily added, "The other sects are also fervent in their devotion, but we live in the heart of the mystery."

The Lurker watched Ciredor expectantly, looking for any sign that he might have insulted his benefactor. However, all the necromancer did was slowly smile.

"You are right," Ciredor agreed, "that our heart is within the Calim Desert."

The Lurker was relieved that Ciredor was not offended, though he was puzzled at the mage's reference to the heart. The Lurker thought Ciredor might have said more correctly that their origin was in the desert, but he was not going to chance saying the wrong thing again or nit pick over the turn of a phrase. To further smooth things over, he recounted his meeting with Tazi and Steorf, knowing the outcome would please Ciredor.

"Those foreigners arrived just as you said they would," he told Ciredor eagerly, and he saw the first spark of excitement appear in the mage's black eyes.

"Really?" Ciredor drawled.

"The two from Selgaunt and their Calishite companion arrived just a few hours ago," the priest clarified, spurred on by Ciredor's interest.

"Were they like I described?" Ciredor asked carefully.

"As soon as the woman with the short black hair heard of the sacred writings, she dashed right over to the book."

"Just as I told you she would," Ciredor agreed kindly. "What happened?"

"One of my young but very dedicated novices kept her from touching the lost writings," the priest answered. "That's when they truly revealed their colors."

"How so?" Ciredor questioned.

"The woman's burly young companion attempted to attack the Child of Ibrandul with magical means. Of course," the priest added, excited that his words were having a pleasing effect on his patron, "that was to no avail."

"Not in this sanctum," Ciredor agreed. "What was the outcome?"

"The beast had to resort to physical combat on an opponent much weaker than himself." The Lurker shook his head in distaste. "In fact, the man turned quite savage in the end, and his woman had to pull him away."

"They haven't changed," Ciredor chuckled, and the Lurker wasn't sure if the laugh was for his benefit or not.

"And the woman also let slip that she was carrying on her person several scrolls that she had stolen from you."

Ciredor only nodded slowly at this revelation.

"That is the only thing that concerns me," the priest added. "I am not sure that we will be able to recover those."

"Why not?" Ciredor asked, but the Lurker saw that he was not unduly distressed.

"Those two muzha-dahyarifs are on their way to a most fitting end. Several of the Children of Ibrandul, including the novice who was beaten by the young mage, are as we speak leading them into a trap deep within the tunnels of the Muzad," the Lurker explained. "There I am sure they will discover what it means to have betrayed the Skulking God."

"I know they will," Ciredor quietly agreed, "and don't be too concerned about the scrolls they have. I might have made copies of some of the writings elsewhere. What of their Calishite companion?" he added and the Lurker thought Ciredor was almost anxious.

"She is quite safe, Lord," the priest reassured him. "We were able to separate her almost immediately from her foreign companions. She is in a chamber located just beyond our main hall."

"Wonderful," he replied.

"She has been very acquiescent since she was separated from her companions," the Lurker noted, "and she knows several of the Children of Ibrandul from her own youth."

He himself had been amazed by that discovery.

"Why should that surprise you?" Ciredor keenly noticed.

"I'm astonished that a Calishite could be so easily deceived, I suppose," the priest admitted. "For all purposes, this young woman is every bit at home amongst us and yet she was traveling in their company."

"Try to understand," Ciredor explained easily, "that those two from Selgaunt are very persuasive. Fannah had been traveling with me some time ago in Sembia as I searched for the lost words when we became separated. She fell into some minor danger and the Sembian woman, Thazienne, took advantage of the situation."

"What happened?" the Lurker asked.

This was the most verbose his benefactor had ever been, and the priest was enthralled.

"Thazienne picked Fannah out of a crowd, an obvious foreigner and unfamiliar with the commercial ways of the people of Selgaunt, and made arrangements for several of her less than reputable friends to 'attack' Fannah so that Thazienne could then conveniently rescue her. While Fannah is a very astute young woman, she is far too trusting at times."

"I am sure that will improve with age," the Lurker added. "When she approaches my age and has more experiences with life, as you and I have had, I am sure she will be much wiser for it."

Ciredor broke into a wide smile at the priest's theories and the Lurker was pleased that he was finally connecting with the man he knew would change the worship of Ibrandul forever.

"But I have interrupted you," the Lurker noticed.

"There is not much more to my story," Ciredor continued. "Fannah, being the pure soul that she is, felt a great deal of gratitude to Thazienne. My understanding is Thazienne used her hired mage to befuddle Fannah, and she inadvertently ended up giving those two the location of some of the scrolls we had saved from the greedy merchants of Selgaunt."

The Lurker hissed at that.

"Horrible to contemplate," Ciredor agreed, "and Thazienne would have dearly loved to have gotten her hands on all our words. I'm sure visions of jewels and immeasurable fortune were dancing in her head when she saw the collection on your dais."

"That will never happen" the Lurker promised solemnly, and Ciredor smiled again.

"You have done an excellent job protecting the sacred words. The only thing that we need to do is await the Foreshadowing that is less than a tenday away," the mage proclaimed.

"The time of the new moon," the Lurker said in a reverent voice.

"Yes," replied Ciredor. "That time when the Land Above is pitch black…"

"And we celebrate Ibrandul's promise to envelope the Lands Above and Below in utter darkness," the priest finished for Ciredor.

He could feel his heart beat more quickly at the thought of the upcoming ritual.

"Fannah may have fallen away from her roots," Ciredor added, "but she will play a pivotal role in the Foreshadowing. I would prefer that she be kept cloistered away until that time," he instructed.

"Don't you wish to see her?" the Lurker questioned.

"I would prefer if she had some time alone," Ciredor explained. "That way, she may be able to purge the effects the Sembians have had on her. Surrounded as she is by the familiar smells and touch of her home, I believe she will come to her senses without any magical intervention."

"Everything will be done as you request," the priest told him. Ciredor smiled at his fealty.

"I knew when I first met you," Ciredor added, "that I had found the true home for Ibrandul's lost words. This Foreshadowing will be like none other."

"Is that when you will read to us from the scrolls?" the Lurker nearly begged the mage.

"I will do that and so much more," Ciredor promised.