The Eve of the Maelstrom

18 Ariakan’s Rest

Palin concentrated on the enchantment that would spirit him to Ariakan’s Rest, more than a thousand miles from where he stood in the Tower of Wayreth.

“Wait!” The soft, indistinct voice made him start, and the incantation slipped away from him, unfinished. The Shadow Sorcerer glided into the room. “I am so certain Takhisis will appear in the cave, I will risk traveling with you.”

Palin looked at the dark figure narrowly. “If you’re correct, there should be dragons nearby. Certainly there will be Knights of Takhisis. It could be dangerous.”

The hooded figure nodded. “I have studied dragons longer than you, Majere. To see one up close might be the appropriate culmination of my studies.”

“Culmination,” Palin softly chuckled, then stopped, unsure if the Shadow Sorcerer was serious or had attempted a joke.

“Besides, I have not left this tower in quite some time,” added the sorcerer. “You might need some help.”

“I’ll not argue with that.”

Palin glanced at his left hand. Dalamar’s ring sat next to his marriage band.

The Shadow Sorcerer watched his face closely. “You have not cast magic with such an ancient and powerful artifact before?” he inquired.

“Many times,” Palin replied. “I carried the Staff of Magius for years. But it has been a while.”

“Then shall we be on our way?”

“I welcome your company.” Palin briefly thought of Usha, vowing to contact her as soon as he investigated Ariakan’s Rest. He had not spoken to her in several days, for he’d been wrapped up in his studies. He wanted the Shadow Sorcerer to be right, and he hoped to find some evidence that the goddess was returning to Krynn inside a cave. Then Palin would transport his companions there, along with the artifacts they’d been gathering. He had been mulling over the possibilities of using the artifacts to bring the mountain down on top of the Dark Queen and any dragons gathered there—even if such an act might end their own lives. It would be a trivial sacrifice, he thought, if it kept Takhisis away from Krynn. “Ready?” The Shadow Sorcerer nodded almost imperceptibly.

Palin concentrated on the spell again and on Dalamar’s ring. He drew the energy from the ring, and the magic came quickly, whisking them away from the room high in the Tower of Wayreth. The stone floor of the tower disappeared beneath their feet, and within a few passing moments, the two sorcerers stood on uneven rocky ground on the side of a mountain in the heart of Neraka.

“This is not the cave,” the Shadow Sorcerer observed.

Palin shook his head. “No, but we are close. I did not want to appear in the midst of some evil gathering. Better that we investigate a little.”

“As you wish,” the Shadow Sorcerer said. “Lead the way, Majere.”

Palin picked his way along the mountainside. It was late afternoon, and an orange glow painted the rocks and warmed his skin. He inhaled deeply. The air seemed sweeter outside the tower, away from the powders and smokes of magical studies and incantations. He had caged himself in the Tower of Wayreth for too long.

He heard the Shadow Sorcerer softly muttering behind him, felt his skin tingle and realized his companion was cloaking their presence with an invisibility spell. It was a precaution Palin would not have bothered with, as he was certain dragons did not need to see trespassers to know they were near. Their other senses were highly acute. Still, Palin admitted to himself that being invisible was wise. At least any Knights of Takhisis stationed in the mountains would be unable to see them.

“What do you know of Ariakan?” the Shadow Sorcerer whispered.

“That he was an evil man, but one who demonstrated some honor. He had traits to be admired, and he endured much.”

The Shadow Sorcerer nodded. “Including captivity for many years at the hands of his foes, the Knights of Solamnia.”

“He learned from them.”

“Yes. And undoubtedly some of that knowledge led him to establish the Knights of Takhisis.”

Palin nodded. “I suppose,” he said. “It was fitting that following the Chaos War, the remnants of the Dark Queen’s knights withdrew to this land, which is named for the city that once belonged to Takhisis.”

“She built the city of Neraka, did she not?”

“In a manner of speaking. It would be more accurate to say she caused it to be built. Legend says she planted the cornerstone of the Kingpriest’s Temple of Istar, which grew into a terrible edifice from which she mustered and rallied her forces. The city grew up around that great, dark place.”

“And all in the city served her,” the Shadow Sorcerer said. “Ariakan’s Rest is where she will return. The Master was wrong to think otherwise. Our trip here will make him realize his bad judgment.”

The pair lapsed into silence as they continued along a thin trail. Most of the countryside was like this place: barren, inhospitable, rugged, and steep. Between the mountain ranges that crisscrossed the land were nestled dry, narrow valleys. Volcanoes dotted the country. It was a perfect climate for red and blue dragons, and Palin knew there were a few in the area.

Shortly before sunset, the two men reached the entrance to the cave. It looked like a wide, deep scar, large enough for even dragons to fit through. As the two sorcerers made their way on the last bit of trail, they noticed smoke curling upward from three encampments. The Shadow Sorcerer, with the aid of his magic, confirmed their suspicions that garrisons of Knights of Takhisis were camped nearby.

“We should go inside Ariakan’s Rest to be certain,” he observed to Palin. “After all, we have come this far.”

“No debate.” Palin took a deep breath and realized his hands were trembling from anticipation, and from fear of what might await them in the bowels of the mountain. He slipped inside the cave, hugging the wall. His skin tingled, and he knew the invisibility spell had lapsed. He hoped he wouldn’t need it here. He stood silent for a moment, listening. The only sound he could hear was the teasing wind. The air was still and dry. He crept forward, working to calm his nerves and his shaking fingers.

The cave was deep, and the farther in he went, the darker it became. Palin thought to himself that Feril’s vision would come in handy. He could not see the Shadow Sorcerer behind him, but he sensed the mage was there.

Palin used his left hand to guide him. He walked purposefully, but not too fast. He could no longer see anything but blackness and did not want to risk tripping. The cave floor sloped downward, steeply in places, and wound in a slow spiral. He imagined for a moment that he was following the same course Ariakan had pursued those many decades ago when he followed the seashells that led him to safety. But there were no seashells to lead Palin. And he doubted the cave was safe.

He stopped abruptly and heard the Shadow Sorcerer behind him.

“Majere?”

“I see it.”

There was a soft light ahead, pale gray and flickering. Palin steadied himself and pressed forward. Within moments found himself in a massive chamber—massive enough to contain several dragons.

A dozen torches faintly lit the chamber. They burned magically, leaving no trace of smoke.

“Empty,” Palin whispered. He padded toward the center of the chamber, scrutinizing the floor. On it was a thick layer of dirt in which the tracks of a small dragon were evident. He knelt near a clawprint, glancing toward the opposite wall. “Dragon spoor. Indeed you could be right.”

“Indeed, Majere,” the Shadow Sorcerer said.

A ball of hot light materialized where Palin knelt. The searing flash burned away the sorcerer’s clothes and hair.

Palin writhed in agony, screaming, while the cold, logical part of his mind realized he would be dead in a moment or two if he didn’t act. The sorcerer concentrated on Dalamar’s ring and tried his best to blot out the pain—which was impossible. He rolled in the dirt, trying to cool himself. Naked and scarred, he staggered to his feet, gasping for air. He found that breathing was painful. His lungs ached. He looked about for the Shadow Sorcerer but could not penetrate the darkness. The fireball had half-blinded him. An unusual form of dragon breath? Palin wondered as he backed toward a cavern wall. A spell? He glanced at the torches. They still glowed. There was no trace of the Shadow Sorcerer. Every inch of Palin’s body cried out to be cooled, and he suspected Dalamar’s ring had been the only thing that kept him from being turned into a pile of ash.

“Majere.” The Shadow Sorcerer’s voice.

Palin peered into the dark crevices. Nothing. Something made him look up. Hovering in the center of the chamber was the Shadow Sorcerer, unmarred gray robes billowing about him, hood thrown back. A silver mask gleamed on the sorcerer’s face, hiding any expression there. Voluminous sleeves were pulled back to reveal gloved hands.

Beams of light leapt from the Shadow Sorcerer’s fingers, streaking like ribbons of red and yellow fireflies toward Palin.

Palin dropped to his stomach and rolled out of the way, feeling the ferocious heat from the light above. “What are you doing?” Palin cried as he sprang to his feet. He concentrated on Dalamar’s ring, focusing an enchantment that might protect him.

“Ending this foolishness,” came the icy reply. “Ending your attempt to stop the Dark Queen’s coming! Die, Majere!” Again shards of light shot from the gray-cloaked wizard’s fingers.

Palin did not completely elude the blast this time. The shards struck him and sent a fresh jolt of agony into his body. He screamed, losing the incantation he’d been attempting.

“Stop this!” Palin gasped.

“Oh, I have hardly begun, Majere,” the Shadow Sorcerer taunted. His voice was no longer a whisper. It rose and echoed through the chamber, shrill and brimming with hatred. To Palin, it seemed almost as if another man were speaking through the sorcerer’s mouth. “By believing me, by believing that Takhisis might return here, you have lost. You allowed yourself to be spirited away from your precious tower. You walked away from all your friends and from all your defenses. You left the Master—whom you should have trusted. He is right, you know. The Dark Queen will be reborn at the Window to the Stars. She will be reborn there a little earlier than you anticipated. Three weeks, Majere. Three weeks from this very night. It is a pity you will not be there to witness it. But die, Majere, knowing that you have helped the dragons to win. The dragon goddess cannot be challenged now!”

“Traitor,” Palin spat, as he circled around the chamber. “Traitor!”

“I am no traitor to the Dark Queen. I am loyal, Majere, loyal enough to spend these past many years with you and the Master. I worked with you, ate with you, listened to your simpering stories of your wife, children, and grandchildren. Listened to your laments over poor, dead Goldmoon. Listened to your foolish hopes of beating the dragons. I won your confidence, Majere, admit it. I even helped you against lesser dragons to gain your trust. And you were such a trusting fool.

“I joined the Last Conclave and helped you discover new magic years ago because Malystryx the Red feared Beryl’s growing threat. By allowing you to challenge Malystryx’s enemies, Beryl could better be held in check.”

“Why?” Palin shouted as he barely dodged another bolt of light. “Why such an elaborate game?”

“Spying is a necessary game in war, Majere,” the Shadow Sorcerer returned. “By being one of you, I was apprised of your every move. I could report where your pitiable friends were traveling—your wild elf Ferilleeagh, the insolent mariner and his deaf lackey—all of them. Even your dear, sweet wife, and that tormented puppet Dhamon Grimwulf. All of them. All of them dead. Dead by now because you always let me know where they were. Dead because you helped me!” The sorcerer’s words ended in a wild shriek of laughter that died away in something very like a sob.

“No!” Palin’s hands shook, and he made no move to calm himself. Instead, he focused on another spell, concentrating on the ring on his finger.

“Dead. Yes,” the Shadow Sorcerer continued, recovering himself. “My reports allowed the great Red to send her spawn into the Blöde hills looking for them.”

“The spawn failed!”

“They were expected to fail, you idiot! They were merely meant to worry your friends and drive them quicker—like cattle, Majere. But the Knights of Takhisis did not fail. The knights blockaded the harbor in Khur. They were waiting for your wife and the others. The knights will kill them all.”

Palin shook his head in disbelief. “They got by the blockade. I contacted them! They ran your damn blockade!”

“The first blockade, Majere. The Red wanted them to. Don’t you see? The Red wants the Crown of Tides, just as you want it. She wants the ancient magic. She wanted your friends to fetch it. Brine had been unable to obtain it for her. But your friends. Ah, they were successful. Malystryx will be most pleased. You see, there are Dark Knights stationed all along the coast now, waiting for their return. More Knights of Takhisis than there were in the Ak-Khurman harbor. If they return at all. The Red intended to alert the sea dragon of tasty morsels headed away from Dimernesti. She can magically communicate with all the overlords, you know. Dead, your friends. All of them. And the Crown of Tides and the Fist of E’li in the Red’s clutches.” The Shadow Sorcerer’s hands glowed red as hot coals and his voice rose to a scream. “And now you will die, too, Majere.”

Light raced from the mage’s fingertips, streaks of red and white so bright and intense they shattered the rock above Palin’s head. Bits of rock rained down on Palin’s aching flesh, just as he finished his own incantation. A bright red shield formed in his hand. Made of flame and birthed by Dalamar’s ring, it reflected like a mirror.

Palin raised the shield and felt the impact as the beams of light and the shattered rock struck it. The sound of crackling flames filled his senses. He roared as loud as he imagined a dragon might roar. The heat generated by both spells made the air difficult to breathe. “Return,” Palin whispered, focusing on his fiery shield, on the ring, on the Shadow Sorcerer. “Return.”

A scream echoed shrilly in the chamber. A woman’s voice. The Shadow Sorcerer was a woman! Palin craned his aching neck around his shield, saw the gray-cloaked mage engulfed in the streaks of light that had been reflected by his shield spell.

The Shadow Sorcerer squirmed and twisted, her garments shredding, the silver mask falling away. Her face was struck by shattered bits of stone and intense light. Then she fell below the beams of light, striking dully against the cavern floor. A cloud of dirt flew up through the blazing air.

Palin released the shield, stumbling away from the wall and dropping to his knees a few feet from his former ally. The woman’s chest rose and fell slightly. Her face blistered and scarred.

“Why?” Palin whispered as he crawled toward her.

“To side with the dragons is to live,” the Shadow Sorcerer gasped. “I must serve the great Red. She will be... she will be...” Blood trickled over the woman’s cracked lips.

“No,” Palin said. He got to his feet and stumbled to the cavern wall, grabbed a rock and returned to the Shadow Sorcerer. Her eyes glowed red, and her twitching fingers clasping a medallion that hung about her neck. He raised the rock above her head and brought it down...

... on nothing.

The Shadow Sorcerer had been in the midst of a spell, had spirited herself away. Palin fell to his knees and doubled over—from the pain that still wracked his body, and from the betrayal at the hands of someone he had for years considered a trusted friend. His sobs echoed softly in the chamber, and he prayed for Usha.

One by one the torches went out. Palin closed his eyes. The vision of Dalamar’s ring swam before him, gleaming dimly. Then, beneath his back he felt cool stone paving. He had returned to the Tower of Wayreth.