Finder's bane

Seventeen

Bors soon regained consciousness. Aside from a ringing headache, he was no worse for wear. He sent a street urchin to fetch sedan chairs to take Joel and Jedidiah to the Shattered Temple, where they would find a portal to the astral plane. "I can accompany you as far as the temple, but then we must part," the alien paladin said. "I have an obligation at the Civic Festhall that I can delay no longer." Jedidiah nodded, and Joel realized the old priest was relieved that Bors hadn't insisted on joining their party. Holly's presence had already complicated their business. Who knew what trouble a second paladin could start?

While they waited for their transport, Bors saw to their wounds. With a golden hammer, he applied a blow to Jedidiah's arm, relieving the numbness the older man felt, and with the golden needle, he pricked the bump in Joel's head. The swelling quickly subsided. Then he washed and bandaged Joel's wounds from Jas and the skeleton.

Two chairs arrived, each carried by two bariaurs. Bors instructed them to head for a tavern called the Soused Duck. The tavern, Bors explained, was as near to the Shattered Temple as any bearers would go. He wished them luck and sent them on their way.

As he rode, all Joel could think of was Walinda's treachery and how stupid he'd been to trust her. She'd pulled the same trick her master had tried. Jedidiah had even warned Joel about her in the Palace of Judgment. Of course, Jedidiah had also been tricked, believing Bors could protect Holly from the priestess.

Although it was now day, the fog grew darker as they approached their destination, and the air grew much more foul. Their bariaur bearers stopped at the Soused Duck tavern. The two priests alighted and paid for their ride. The bariaurs hurried away, and Joel could see why.

Beyond the tavern was a blighted scar where there had once been a thriving area of solid buildings. Several city blocks had been destroyed a long time ago but had never been rebuilt. Collapsed and burned-out buildings dotted the landscape. Some of the buildings had been scavenged, but no one chose to live in this place.

The Shattered Temple sat in the center of the devastation. When they had spoken yesterday, Holly had told Joel that the temple had once belonged to a god named Aoskar, who had apparently made an attempt to control the city. The mistress of Sigil had destroyed Aoskar, his church, and his followers. The devastation remained untouched out of superstition and also served as a warning to all: Sigil was off limits to godly powers.

As Joel and Jedidiah approached the heart of the destroyed area, Joel grew aware of the quiet all around them. They had left the hubbub of the city behind. This area was a memorial to the dead.

The Shattered Temple sat on a low rise, surrounded by a small retinue of temple guards. Its roof and upper walls were gone. Its foundation had settled crookedly into the earth. At each corner was a half-razed tower. Graceful arched buttresses surrounding the temple held up only thin air. Any stone walls that remained standing were covered with thick, dark-leafed vines. Four paths led away from the temple in the front, the back, and to either side, down broad staircases. Each path ended in a broken and shattered terrace.

As they approached the nearest terrace, they were called to a halt by the temple guards. The guards were a motley lot. They were armed and armored in a haphazard fashion and wore no recognizable uniforms. They each wore a badge of the Athar, also known as the Lost-those who believed all gods were false.

The guards, while friendly, insisted that Joel and Jedidiah must wait for a guide to tour the ruins. Jedidiah paced the terrace while Joel tried to imagine what this place had looked like before its destruction. In a few minutes a tall, thin man, somewhat older than Joel, approached the terrace from the direction of the temple and spoke with the guards. Then he turned toward Joel and Jedidiah.

"Welcome to the Shattered Temple, headquarters of the Athar," the man greeted them in a gruff voice. "I'm Adenu, and I'll be your guide." Adenu turned and led the pair up the stairs toward the temple. The steps were uneven and scorched, and where there were breaks in the stone, wild grass had taken root. Their guide continued his speech, his eyes half closed, as if he were reading it from the back of his eyelids. "On this tour, I’ll be showing you all the darks uncovered by our leaders, darks which prove the wisdom of the Athar's teachings-the gods are charlatans, beings of false power and false promises."

Jedidiah began to chuckle.

Adenu shot the older man a chill look.

"I'm sorry," Jedidiah apologized. "I'm not laughing at your philosophy. It's just that the irony is killing me."

"Irony?" Adenu asked.

"It's not important," Jedidiah replied. "Sir, any other time I'm sure this tour would fascinate me, but right now we are trying to track down a girl and her abductor. The girl is tall, dark-skinned. Her abductor is a small, slender woman dressed in black. We have reason to believe that the woman would have used your portal to the astral plane."

"Oh, her! Bossy bit of fluff, the one in black was. Blew in here like she owned the place, demanding access as if she were the queen of the world. I thought that dolly-mop with her had too much of the bub."

"Did they go through the portal?" Joel asked.

"Her Majesty handed me a huge sack o'jink. Said she had to see the dead gods immediately-had to show them to the girl. Didn't see the harm in it. I guided them through to the astral side. Once we're across, the woman says she doesn't need a guide. She goes sailing off into the void with the girl in tow. I'm stepping back through the portal, and I'm nearly knocked over by some harpy who goes flying through."

"Jas!" Joel muttered to Jedidiah, who nodded in reply.

As they passed between two long, low buildings to the rear of the temple, Adenu said, "All of 'em lucky it's a good day for the portal."

"A good day?" Joel asked.

"Portal's getting unreliable," Adenu explained. "Like everything the so-called gods created. Some days it's no bigger than an egg. Other days it doesn't open at all."

Adenu led them through the front entryway to the ruined temple. The doors had burned away. Only their hinges remained. "Used to have caravans of people coming here to tour the temple," their guide explained, "all eager for that big finale-seeing Aoskar's body floating in the gray. Now that they know they may not see into the astral, they don't flock here like they used to. Portal closes down entirely, we'll be changing the tour itinerary. Can't say as I'll be disappointed. Thought from the beginning we should talk more about the tree."

"The tree?" Joel asked.

"I've gone and given you a dark," Adenu said. "Come back in a few weeks. The tree will be on the tour by then. Just working out some security problems. But the tree is proof there is a power greater than the gods."

Adenu led them through a door to the first tower on the right. Within, a knee-high wall encircled an empty pool about five feet across. Once the portal must have filled the pool, but now a puddle of gray in the middle was all that was left of the gateway to the astral plane. "Pop through there," Adenu said, "and you'll see 'em… all the dead gods. No better than they should be. That's where they'll all end up once we've revealed the truth about 'em to the multiverse."

"Some even sooner then that," Jedidiah murmured. He turned to the Athar guide. "We'll find our way from here, thank you," the former god said. "It's been very interesting talking to you, Adenu. Farewell."

"Suit yourselves." He pulled back and watched them from the doorway.

Jedidiah stepped stiffly over the low wall. His face twitched, as if he were in pain.

"Are you all right?" Joel whispered. "I sense I'm not wanted here," the older bard said. Joel smiled.

"Not wanted in the city, I mean," Jedidiah explained. "Something or someone has sensed my presence and is not pleased. There's an oppressive atmosphere all around me. We're not leaving a moment too soon."

Joel stepped over the wall and joined Jedidiah beside the gray puddle on the floor.

"Hold on to my cloak and step through with me," Jedidiah said. "Stay relaxed, and don't panic when we reach the other side. Ready… set… go!"

The two men hopped through the portal together. They fell into an empty sky. There was no ground beneath their feet, yet they fell no farther. There was neither up nor down, nor any horizon, nothing. In the distance, the sky looked silver, but close up there was no color to the air. Joel looked upward. The portal through which they'd entered looked like a leather-brown disk floating in the sky. It flared with a white light, then shrank to the size of a melon.

Beside him, Jedidiah's form looked pale, nearly translucent. Joel looked down at himself to discover that he, too, seemed less distinct. Yet when he patted his chest and legs, he felt as solid as ever, and the piece of Jedidiah's cloak to which he clung still seemed made of good, stiff wool. He released his hold on the cloak.

"Welcome to the astral plane," Jedidiah said. "The hallway to the multiverse. Don't be fooled by the emptiness. There's plenty here once you learn how to look for it. If you see any colored disks or snakelike tubes, avoid them. The disks are portals to other worlds, and the tubes are conduits between other worlds. With any luck, we won't run into any githyanki. That's a race of humans who worship a lich queen. They're none too friendly to outsiders. We need to find a temporary haven to start. See that gray spot?" Jedidiah pointed into the nothingness.

Joel shook his head.

"No? Well, I'm going to think about moving toward it, and when I do, I'll start to move in that direction. Just like floating down a river. You think about moving toward me and you'll move along with me. Your mind does all the work. Watch."

Jedidiah looked out over the void and started to drift in the direction he had pointed toward.

Joel watched him recede with a hint of nervousness. The silence that surrounded him was far more intense and thus much more eerie than the silence in the Shattered Temple. He longed to hear another voice. It took the young bard a few moments to focus on imagining himself moving toward the older man.

Suddenly Jedidiah appeared to move backwards, toward Joel, but soon Joel realized it was because he was moving toward Jedidiah. Without any landmarks, without even the hint of a breeze, movement was very deceptive.

After a few minutes following Jedidiah, Joel could see the gray spot Jedidiah had indicated. A few minutes later the gray spot became a gray statue of a potbellied, ram-horned satyr with a sullen expression on its face. As the men moved closer, the gray statue appeared to be a huge rock carving, larger than a ship.

Jedidiah settled on the satyr's shoulder, and Joel landed beside him. The young bard felt only a slight sensation of weight holding him to the statue's body.

"Is this…?" Joel let his voice trail off.

"A dead god? Yes," Jedidiah replied. "I have no idea who it is. There are a great many of them out here. Some are newly arrived, while others have floated here for millennia,"

"Why are we stopping here?" Joel asked. While he was glad to feel something solid beneath his feet, the nature of the object he stood on made him feel uneasy.

"Now that we're no longer in Sigil, I'd like to have my godhood back. Would you be so kind as to restore it?"

Joel pulled out the finder's stone and held it out to Jedidiah.

The older man smiled and shook his head. "I can't just take it back by myself. It requires a ritual that only a priest can perform."

"What sort of ritual?" Joel asked.

"Well, it's different for every god. In my case, it requires a song… one about the cycle of life."

"The tulip song," Joel said, realizing finally why Jedidiah had drilled him so assiduously in that particular song.

"Exactly," Jedidiah said. He lowered himself until he was seated cross-legged. Joel sat across from Jedidiah and held out the finder's stone. Then he sang, understanding much more about the song than he had before. As he sang, the process that had placed Finder's remaining godly power and abilities into this half of the finder's stone reversed itself. Mists of all colors of the spectrum streamed from the stone. The mists circled about Jedidiah's form, then were drawn into him, like water into parched earth. When at last Joel had finished, Jedidiah heaved a deep sigh and relaxed.

The weariness and age had disappeared from Jedidiah's face, and he once more appeared to be a man in his prime. More important was the feeling Joel had that he stood in his god's presence. The Rebel Bard hadn't recognized its existence until Jedidiah had given up his power, but now that the power was restored, Joel could feel it once again.

"Well," Jedidiah said, "what do you know? It worked. I can feel your presence again."

Joel's jaw dropped. "What do you mean, it worked?" he squeaked. "Why wouldn't it work?"

"Well, essentially, we just recreated a god, and there's other powers involved in recreating a godly presence- powers that might try to stop the process," Jedidiah explained.

"You knew that when you gave up your powers?" Joel asked, flabbergasted. Jedidiah nodded.

Joel sighed. Then he laughed. "I have a new portfolio for you, Jedidiah. God of Reckless Fools," he said.

Jedidiah laughed. "I like it. Something adventurers can relate to." He stood up, without a hint of pain or tiredness. "Time to deal with the banelich." "How do we find him out here?" Joel asked. "We just think of him, and our minds will move our bodies in his direction. Or you could think of moving toward Holly," the god instructed his priest.

Joel took Jedidiah's latter suggestion and found himself moving away from the dead satyr-god back into the void of nothingness. Jedidiah moved alongside him, though sometimes he soared ahead. Joel wondered if Jedidiah was thinking of the banelich or the paladin or concentrating instead on the other half of the finder's stone. Whichever was the case, they continued to move in the same direction.

Joel couldn't say how long their journey lasted. He didn't get hungry or thirsty or tired, yet he soon realized that time and distance and even his own existence were distorted in this plane. They passed writhing conduits and glowing portals and other dead gods. Once a flying lion circled them, then flew on.

All the while they traveled, the Rebel Bard was uncomfortable in his mind. Jedidiah had entrusted him with the Hand of Bane. The decision of what to do with it was up to him. Before Walinda's treachery, Joel's only concern had been whether or not he would deprive Finder of the power the god wanted, perhaps even needed. Now Holly's life was at stake as well. The priestess had taken Holly for the same reason the banelich had tried to abduct Joel. The banelich didn't want to part with the finder's stone. Walinda would demand the Hand of Bane in exchange for Holly's life, giving her master all he desired.

Another dead god statue seemed to move toward them. This one was of a handsome man wearing ornate plate armor, his face twisted and frozen in a derogatory sneer. As they grew closer, they could see that the statue was far larger than the first one. If this god were to land on any castle in the Realms, he would crush it beneath his great mass. This, the bard sensed with grim certainty, was the body of Bane, former Lord of Strife, Hatred, and Tyranny.

Their quarry had taken up a position on Bane's great back, just below the neck. The banelich had discarded its armor and wore only a ceremonial robe of black and red. Walinda stood at the creature's right, armored in her black plate mail. Holly knelt at her feet, bound hand and foot. The priestess held the point of her silver-tipped goad against the paladin's throat.

Jedidiah and Joel settled several feet away from them, on the left shoulder, leaving a small hillock between the two parties. The hillock consisted of a ridge in the great god's armor corresponding to his shoulder blade. The banelich didn't deign to acknowledge their presence. Instead, Walinda spoke for her master.

"Well met, Poppin," the priestess greeted Joel. "I see you were successful." She nodded toward the stone hand Joel had tucked inside his belt. "I will make a deal with you… the Hand of Bane for the paladin's life."

"What about our deal for the finder's stone?" Joel asked the priestess.

"My lord chooses not to surrender the power of the stone but to keep it for himself," Walinda replied. "Accept my offer and you may all live to witness my lord's resurrection."

"No!" Holly shouted to Joel. "Don't buy my life with this evil act! Destroy the hand!"

Walinda spun her goad, using the blunt end to smack the paladin in the back of the head, sending her sprawling forward.

Joel looked at Jedidiah. If he accepted Walinda's offer, Finder wouldn't regain the power stored in the other half of the stone. He would remain a weak god. Nor would Holly forgive him for aiding in Bane's resurrection.

"I gave you the hand," his god said softly to Joel, "so you could decide what was right."

The Rebel Bard fixed his eyes on Walinda. He knew the priestess wouldn't hesitate to kill the paladin. Holly was prepared to sacrifice her life to prevent Bane's resurrection, so the evil god couldn't return to the Realms to destroy the lives of others. Why should Holly have to die for all the others?

"I'm sorry, Holly," Joel said, "but your life is as valuable as anyone else's. I won't sacrifice it. I'll make the trade," he told Walinda.

Joel stepped forward, pulling the Hand of Bane from his belt. Suddenly he caught a flash of light out of the corner of his eyes. Jas, her wings as silvery bright as a new coin, swooped from beneath the god corpse's right shoulder just in front of Walinda and the banelich. She grabbed Holly by the arms and sped off with her into the void before any of them could react. The winged woman moved with a speed beyond anything her wings could achieve. She moved as anyone did in the astral plane, as fast as her mind could imagine, which in Jas's case was very, very quickly.

Walinda shrieked and swung her goad around to attack, but it was too late. She had lost her prize.

A moment later Jas returned, with Holly in tow, to land at Joel's and Jedidiah's side. "What took you?" Joel muttered. "I was waiting for you to distract the witch," Jas replied. The flyer's skin was still covered with black feathers, but her talons had transformed back to human hands. "You're changing back," Joel noted. "Slowly," Jas said. "The darkness of Xvim is still in me, but I can fight it now."

"Well played, priest of Finder," the banelich bellowed. Its deep voice rolled across Bane's back like the sound of thunder. "You have thwarted my priestess's scheme. Now you will trade power for power. The Hand of Bane for your stone."

"No!" Holly insisted, pulling at the Hand of Bane with her bound hands. "You can't do this! The return of your finder's stone cannot outweigh the evil Bane will bring to the world if he is resurrected."

"Holly," Joel whispered, keeping a firm grip on the Hand of Bane, "you don't understand. There's more at stake than we told you. The power in the stone… it's Finder's power."

Holly shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense," she declared. "How could Jedidiah put Finder's power…" The paladin halted in mid-sentence, and her face lit up with understanding. She turned to look at Jedidiah, her eyes wide with astonishment. Jedidiah grinned sheepishly.

Holly's eyes narrowed with sudden determination. "It makes no difference," she insisted. "Lathander personally sent a messenger to me. If you don't give me the Hand of Bane, if I don't prevent Bane's resurrection, will fail my god."

Joel felt a sudden surge of loyalty to Finder. "So I'm to fail my god instead?" Joel asked. "Is my god's weakness less evil than Bane's resurrection?"

"It must be," Holly said. "Lathander is a god of goodness and light. He wouldn't-"

"I'm waiting for your answer, priest of Finder," the banelich thundered.

Joel glared at the banelich. "Well, you'll just have to keep waiting," he snapped.

"Listen to me, Joel," Holly said. "Lathander wouldn't ask this if it weren't the right thing. Finder's power is not as important."

"Not to Lathander, maybe, but it means a great deal to Finder," Joel argued. "How do you know Lathander just doesn't want Finder to stay weak so he doesn't become a rival?"

"Lathander is a god of goodness," Holly growled angrily. "He wouldn't be so selfish… unlike some." She turned and glared at Jedidiah.

"Hold on," Joel said. "Is this the Lathander who was ready to let you give up your life just now? Or back in the desert at Cat's Gate? It was Finder who saved you then. He saved us all, even though it meant risking losing his power. He did it because I asked him to."

Holly stammered for a moment, then fell silent. She couldn't deny Joel's words. She released her hold on the Hand of Bane.

Joel knew now what he would do. Finder was as important to him as Bane was to Walinda and Lathander was to Holly. Who was to say that Finder's weakness would not ultimately be a greater evil than Bane's resurrection? Finder hadn't failed him. He wouldn't fail Finder.

"Banelich, we have a deal," Joel called out. He strode to the hillock between the two parties and stood, waiting.

Using its fingernails, the banelich reached up to its forehead and scratched away the thin layer of skin that covered the stolen half of the finder's stone. The undead creature ignored the blood that dripped down its face as it pulled the stone from its skull. "Take this to the priest, slave," he ordered Walinda.

Walinda laid her goad down before the lich. She bowed deeply, then reached out to take the finder's stone from her master's hand. As she did, the banelich grabbed her wrist with its free hand. Black fire poured from its hand and flared up the priestess's arm to her shoulder. Walinda fell to her knees, staggered by the pain.

"That is for failing me," the banelich snarled. "Do not fail me again."

Walinda rose slowly to her feet and backed away from the banelich several steps. As she climbed the rise toward Joel, her gait was unsteady. She halted on the slope just below Joel. The bard saw tears of pain and humiliation in her eyes. In spite of himself, Joel felt a pang of sympathy for the cruel woman. He held out the Hand of Bane.

The priestess reached out to take it with her left hand and thrust her right hand out toward Joel.

A fiery pain flared in Joel's stomach. He looked down at Walinda's right hand. Instead of the finder's stone, she held the silver tip of the goad she had left lying before the lich. She thrust it deep into the bard's belly and gave it a twist.

Joel grunted as the priestess grabbed the hand from his grasp. With a cruel laugh, the priestess ran back to her master's side.

Joel fell forward, clutching at the weapon tip in disbelief. Darkness came over him in waves, then lifted. The bard was dimly aware of Jedidiah praying feverishly over his body and Holly leaning over him, stanching his blood with her hands.

Joel fixed his attention on Walinda and the banelich, but he seemed to see them from some other viewpoint- somewhere above them. He had an uneasy suspicion that meant he was dying, and it was his departing spirit that watched what happened.

The priestess of Bane knelt before the banelich, holding up both the finder's stone and the Hand of Bane.

"Accept these gifts, my lord," Walinda said, "so that you may be restored to greatness."

The lich snatched the finder's stone from her hand and set it back into its forehead. Then it held out both hands. Walinda set the Hand of Bane in the banelich's bony hands. The lich held it up over his head, the black stone and diamonds sparkling in the void. "Let me serve you in your glory," Walinda prayed. The banelich looked down upon the priestess, and the white light in its eyes flared.

"I will be your most humble servant, your slave, your voice to the faithful who will flock to your church," Walinda insisted.

The banelich slammed a fist viciously across the side of the priestess's face.

"Idiot woman!" the banelich growled. "You think I would deign to let one such as you serve me?"

Walinda looked up, wide-eyed with shock, blood streaming from her mouth. "My lord Bane, what have I done to displease you?"

"You exist!" the banelich snapped. "Did you think you would be Bane's chosen priest? You? A woman? Lord Bane will be served by me, the banelich who carried his essence. When I lived, Bane had no priestesses. From the essence I carry, I know that time will come again. You are nothing but a slave." The banelich kicked at the priestess's ribs. "Begone from my sight, you disgusting abomination!"

Walinda crawled backward, away from her master. Joel felt a dull ache in his abdomen and felt Holly's and Jedidiah's hands on him once more. "He's breathing again," Holly said. Joel turned his head and opened his eyes. The banelich stood facing the back of the godly corpse's head. He held the Hand of Bane high above his head and chanted harsh, guttural syllables in some ancient tongue. Bane's name was repeated over and over among the other words. Although he couldn't understand the words, when Joel closed his eyes, he could picture their meaning. The banelich was describing all manner of obscenities and atrocities committed in the name of Bane to glorify his power. It was the evil equivalent of Jedidiah's tulip song.

Jedidiah helped Joel to sit up, then rise to his feet. With Holly holding his elbow and Jas standing behind him, the bard stood beside his god. The banelich's voice rose to a fevered pitch. When it had finished its chant, it intoned Bane's name once, twice, three times. Then the banelich halted, waiting for the resurrection of his god.

Joel held his breath.

Nothing happened. There was nothing but total silence. The dead god's body did not stir.

Then Jedidiah laughed. His laughter seemed to raise a fresh breeze all around them.

The banelich wheeled about. "You dare mock the resurrection of Lord Bane?"

"There isn't going to be any resurrection the way you're going about it," Jedidiah said. "For one thing, you cannot serve as both essence and priest of the god in the same ceremony. Even more importantly, you've been dead for centuries. It takes a living priest to resurrect a god. You just kicked away the only one at hand."

The banelich shook with rage. Joel thought for a moment it might attack Jedidiah. A few moments later the creature grew still. It held out a hand in Walinda's direction. "Come, slave," it said. "You may serve me once more."

Walinda wiped the blood from her mouth and rose to her feet. She approached the lich with a measured ceremonial step. She took the Hand of Bane from his hands.

"I don't believe it," Jedidiah muttered.

Joel stepped forward. "Walinda, don't!" he called out.

"Have a care, priest," the undead creature warned, turning his glowing eyes on Joel.

"Walinda, he's thrown you over once," Joel argued desperately. "He'll do it again. You heard what the banelich said. It holds the essence of Bane; it knows what Bane is thinking. The lich will be Bane's chosen. Bane will betray you."

"Ignore his prattling," the lich commanded. "Begin the chant that will restore to me my power."

Walinda raised the Hand of Bane over her head.

Bane will repay all your faithful service with nothing but abuse and betrayal," Joel warned. "Despite all my doubts, Finder stood by me, teaching me, helping me. Don't you think, for all your devotion, that you deserve as much?"

"Begin the chant!" the banelich said, its voice much sharper. "Begin it now!"

"Walinda," Joel said, "you worship power. To wield power is the virtue of your church. You told me there was no greater honor than to serve Bane as his slave, but you're wrong. You can be the woman who denied Bane power. If Bane is power incarnate and your actions thwart his desire, doesn't that make you stronger than he is? And if you are stronger, then why should you help him? You can serve yourself instead of him, and you will still know joy."

"Begin the chant!" the lich shrieked once more. "Speak my name!"

Walinda looked at the banelich, resplendent in his ornate robes, then turned and smiled at Joel.

She hurled the hand down with an unnatural strength. The ancient artifact fractured as it hit the back of the god's corpse, the fingers of the hand breaking away and scattering in all directions. The banelich screamed as if it were in pain.

"Thank you for the insight, Poppin," Walinda said. She wheeled to face the banelich. "Dead fool, know that it was by my hand that your god's power was denied. I will never utter his name again. May he rot in this plane forever!"

The banelich raised its hand, and a tongue of black fire sprang toward the priestess. Walinda had anticipated something like this, however. Using the power of her mind, she sprang upward, and the black flame passed beneath her and continued harmlessly off into the void. The lich raised its arms upward and hurled more flame after her retreating figure, but by then the priestess was a mere dot in the sky.

The banelich watched her retreating form with its bony mouth agape. Then it turned back to face Joel. "You!" it screamed. "This is your doing! Now you must die!"

The lich sprang at the bard with both hands outstretched, more dark flames wreathing his hands. Joel, still weak from his brush with death, was unable to move quickly. He stepped backward, but he tripped and fell as he did so. Jedidiah interposed himself between his priest and the lich. Grappling each other about the throat, the god and the banelich spiraled upward into the silver void. A black nimbus surrounded the combatants, a dark star that shone across the void.

Joel rose to his feet and launched himself into the air after the pair, but as he drew close, the coldfire repelled him with freezing pain.

Jedidiah reached upward with his right hand to grab at the finder's stone buried in the lich's skull. The banelich grabbed at Jedidiah's wrist with both his arms. With both the lich's arms in the air, Jedidiah was able to lance out with this left hand and grab at the lich's chest beneath the robes.

Jedidiah tossed a small silver box in Joel's general direction… the lich's phylactery! The banelich shrieked incoherently. Joel chased after the box. Once he caught it, he willed his way back down until he landed once more on the god's corpse.

"Get back!" the Rebel Bard warned Holly and Jas. He laid the box down and drew his sword.

"Joel, no!" Holly shouted. "You could get yourself killed!"

Joel looked back up at Jedidiah, battling with the banelich, enshrouded with black fire. The bard smashed his sword down on the box.

The box smashed open, and blue flames billowed out in all directions. Joel felt a blast of hot air. Then everything went black.