Storm of the Dead

CHAPTER 12

Leliana halted the group when she spotted Brindell running back through the tunnel. The halfling's eyes were wide with terror. Unlike a drow, she wore her emotions where everyone could see them.

Brindell skidded to a halt in front of Leliana, her copper-colored hair damp with sweat. "A wave," she gasped, fear making her forget to use the silent speech, "of putrid flesh. It's headed this way, dissolving everything in its path."

"Mother's blood," Leliana whispered. She could hear it, even then. A bubbling, gurgling sound, overlaid with a faint, sizzling hiss. She turned to the mages, several paces behind her, and signaled for them to turn back.

But we're almost there, Gilkriz protested.

According to the map… His hands fluttered to a halt as he stared at something behind Leliana.

Leliana spun. The thing Brindell had spotted was in view. It looked like a waist-deep puddle of bruised fat, wide enough to fill the tunnel from side to side. Veins as thick as legs bulged as it oozed forward-one broke, spraying the tunnel walls with red. Boils rose on the surface of the thing and erupted with wet pops. The monstrosity was still a hundred paces away, but even at that distance Leliana could smell the stench of corruption.

"Join my prayer!" she shouted. "Drive it back."

The priestesses burst into song, lifting the miniature swords that were the symbols of their faith. "By sword and by song, we command thee. By moonlight be driven back…"

The monstrosity surged on, unaffected by the priestess's prayers.

Leliana lowered her holy symbol. If they couldn't stop this thing, they'd be forced to retreat through the shaft they'd just climbed to reach this tunnel. A shaft that led only down. A deep shaft. Before they reached bottom, the monstrosity would be spilling down on top of them.

A streak of frost shot past Leliana's shoulder: one of the wizards, casting a spell. Ice crystals blossomed across the leading edge of the putrid wave, freezing it. An instant later, however, the ice cracked and the monstrosity surged forward again. As it came on, a rat burst from a crack in the tunnel wall just ahead of the oozing mass and scurried up a timber, trying to escape. The putrid mass flowed after it, climbing the wall. The rat shrieked as it was enveloped and dissolved. The timber it had tried to climb fell to pieces and was also consumed.

"Out of the way!" Gilkriz yelled, shoving past her. "Kulg!" he cried, slamming his stiff-fingered hands in front of him as if they were a gate closing.

With a rumble and a thud, the tunnel ahead slammed shut. A wall of solid stone stood where an open passage had been a moment before, blocking the monster's path.

Brindell let out a whooping cheer. "Praise be to Eilistraee! We're safe."

The others were more restrained; they merely murmured their relief.

"That's it, then," Leliana said. She turned her back on the wall. "We'll have to go another…"

She paused. What was that sound?

There it was again. A faint noise, coming from the shaft they'd just climbed.

Tash'kla ran to it and peered down. Another one! she signed-as if maintaining silence would save them. Coming up the shaft!

"Gilkriz!" Leliana barked.

The conjurer nodded. He ran over to where Tash'kla stood and repeated his spell, bringing his hands together. Rock groaned, bulged. The top of the shaft slammed shut.

Brindell glanced back and forth between the blocked tunnel and the plugged shaft. "Now what?"

Leliana looked around. What indeed?

She noticed the human wizard standing slightly apart from the group, intently studying a portion of the tunnel wall. "What is it, Daffir? Have you spotted something?"

He turned, leaning on his staff. "A doorway, hidden by magic." He pointed. "Here."

The dark lenses hovering in front of his eyes hid his expression, but his voice had a strained sound Leliana didn't like. "Where does it lead?"

"To death. And… freedom."

"Whose death?" Gilkriz asked, striding forward. He peered at the wall, his face illuminated by the Faerzress glow.

Daffir shrugged.

"We certainly can't stay here," Tash'kla said. "We'll run out of air." She raised her sword in both hands in front of her; the blade hummed softly. "I'm ready to face death, if it means finding a way past those monsters."

"So am I," Brindell said. She fingered her holy symbol with a pudgy hand.

"Perhaps the divination wasn't a literal one," Eldrinn said. " 'Death' could mean the Crones, and the door may be another route to the Acropolis, hence 'freedom.'" He turned to the wizard beside him. "What do you think, Q'arlynd?"

"Why don't you try opening it, Daffir?" Q'arlynd suggested, moving closer to the other wizard. "Let's see what's behind the door, and decide."

Q'arlynd's eyes, Leliana noted, kept straying to the staff Daffir held.

"Just be ready," she told the others. "Anything could come through that door." She readied her sword. "Go ahead, Daffir."

Daffir balled his hand into a fist, raised it to his lips, and barked a word into it.

Nothing happened. The wall looked as solid as ever.

"I need assistance," he said. "Gilkriz, Q'arlynd, can you aid me?"

The conjurer nodded. So did Q'arlynd, but less eagerly.

"On the count of three, then," Daffir said. "One…"

Gilkriz raised his fist to his lips. Q'arlynd motioned for Eldrinn to step back, then did the same.

"Two…"

The priestesses also heeded the warning. All took a step back.

"Three!"

All three mages spat out a word in unison. As it left their lips, a black iron door became visible. It had no handle, but a knocker shaped like a goat's head hung dead-center on its pitted metal surface. The knocker reared up and thudded its horns against metal with a hollow boom. The door creaked open, away from them, releasing a puff of dust-scented air.

Leliana stepped forward. The top of the door was level with her chest, so she had to bend slightly to peer inside. Even without a prayer of divination, she could feel the tainted chill that spilled from the room. When her eye fell on the statue that stood against the far wall, between two arched exits, she understood why. Like the door knocker, it had a goat's head. Blood-red gems glinted in the eye sockets, reflecting the light from the Faerzress that glimmered from every surface, including the statue itself. The statue had a duergar's squat proportions but stood fully twice Leliana's height, its curving horns nearly scraping the ceiling of the room. Arms folded against its chest, it stared down at a pool of silver that shimmered at its cloven feet: quicksilver.

The priestesses and wizards crowded behind her, curiosity overcoming their apprehension. "What is that?" Tash'kla breathed. "A golem?"

"There's a rune on its chest," Gilkriz said. "A duergar rune. It's faded, but I can still make it out: 'Orcus.'"

Leliana immediately sang a prayer. Behind her, she heard the other priestesses do the same.

"That means something to you?" the conjurer asked.

Leliana nodded. "Orcus is a demon. Prince of the dead. Kiaransalee killed him."

Q'arlynd squatted beside her. "You said he 'is' a demon. Did he rise from the dead?"

"Yes, despite Kiaransalee's best efforts. She not only killed him but conquered his realm-that layer of the Abyss known as Thanatos. Her priestesses marked the victory by naming her chief temple after it. But the demon lord eventually returned to reclaim his realm."

"Did the duergar of these parts worship Orcus?" Gilkriz asked.

"The ones who dug this mine obviously did," Leliana answered. "It's odd, though, that this shrine remains intact. Kiaransalee's followers made it their mission to eradicate all vestiges of the demon prince. Legend has it the goddess worked magic that erased Orcus's name, wherever and however it had been written."

"And yet this rune remains," Gilkriz said. "Maybe we should close the door," Eldrinn blurted.

Q'arlynd stared at the room's far wall. "I'm wondering where those corridors go, myself. I don't know if any of you has noticed, but they're not glowing. The Faerzress ends at the wall on each side of those arches. I think they're portals."

"Go ahead and try one, then," Gilkriz suggested, his voice silky. "We've got diviners to spare."

Q'arlynd bristled. His fingers twitched.

"Enough," Leliana reprimanded. "I've made my decision: we're going to seal this room and take our chances with the putrid ooze. As Gilkriz pointed out earlier, we were almost at the Crone's cavern when-"

"Madam," Daffir said, his soft voice interrupting her. "Please stand aside."

Leliana turned. "What is it, Daffir? Do you see something?"

"Yes. My destiny."

He moved closer to the door and peered inside. His head tilted, as if he were glancing at something the others couldn't see. Then he nodded. He straightened and handed his staff to Eldrinn, startling the boy, then ducked down low and entered the room.

"Stop!" Leliana cried. She grabbed for his robe, but missed. "We need you. You're the only one who…"

Daffir crossed the room with swift, purposeful strides.

"Protectors," Leliana barked. "Stand ready."

The priestesses lifted their swords and touched holy symbols.

Without so much as a backward glance, Daffir entered the corridor to the left of the statue and vanished.

Several moments passed.

Gilkriz broke the silence with a snort. "Diviners," he muttered. He waggled his fingers beside his temple. Crazy.

Leliana expected a retort from Eldrinn or Q'arlynd, but the pair had drawn apart from the others. She could see Q'arlynd's arms moving-he was saying something to the younger wizard in rapid, silent gestures-but his back was to her and she couldn't see his hands. The boy's eyes widened. Then he nodded. He clutched the staff with both hands and drew it to his chest protectively.

Leliana caught Gilkriz's eye. "Seal that door," she ordered. She was just about to find out what Q'arlynd and Eldrinn were up to when Qilue's voice sang out in her head.

Leliana, I have news. Karas has penetrated the Acropolis. He's discovered what the Crones are up to.

Gilkriz was casting the spell that sealed the door, his chanting a distraction. Leliana clapped her hands against her ears to block it out. She listened as Qilue described what Karas had discovered: a massive orb of voidstone at the heart of the Acropolis, guarded by a ghostly Crone. And that wasn't the worst of it.

Judging by what Karas described, the Crones are attempting to open a gate to the negative energy plane, just as they did in Maerimydra, Qilue told her. And I fear I know what they're trying to bring through it. An army of undead, commanded by a vampire minotaur. The legions of the Death Heart.

"The Death Heart," Leliana repeated, her voice tight.

We must stop them. This time, we won't have the help of the Guardians. And Cavatina…

The voice stopped.

"Qilue?" Leliana asked. "Are you still there?"

The others had fallen silent. They stared tensely at Leliana.

Cavatina is beyond my reach. I fear the worst.

Leliana felt, rather than heard, Qilue's anguished sigh.

It's up to you, Leliana. You have to find a way to take the Acropolis. To halt what's happening before the Crones spill an unholy blight upon this world.

"The Nightshadows aren't with us," Leliana said. "They went another way. And we-"

So Karas told me. You'll need reinforcements. I'll be sending others through the portal, but I want those of you who are already there to move on the Acropolis at once. Karas said he could already see shapes moving inside the voidstone. It already spat out one monster. It won't be long, now, before the gate cracks open.

Leliana wet her lips nervously. "Lady," she ventured. "Will you be leading the reinforcements?"

I… can't. There are… matters here I have to deal with.

"So be it, Lady," Leliana said. "We'll do what we can."

May Eilistraee lend strength to your sword and harmony to your song. Farewell.

Farewell? The word carved a hollow in Leliana's gut. Did Qilue have so little faith in her that she was already counting Leliana as lost? For the space of a heartbeat, Leliana regretted ever volunteering for this mission. Then anger eclipsed fear. She would prove Qilue wrong. She would do it. Take the Acropolis and destroy the voidstone. Without reinforcements.

And if she failed, well, dying wouldn't be anything new. She'd already given her life for the Lady once before. She smiled grimly, remembering the battle in the Misty Forest.

The others were waiting. Leliana steeled herself. Swiftly, she relayed what Qilue had just told her. "Lady Qilue has ordered us to attack the Acropolis and destroy the voidstone. She'll send reinforcements, but they probably won't make it in time. Which means it's up to us." She stared at the wall Gilkriz had plugged the tunnel with. "We're going to have to fight our way past that monster."

The other Protectors nodded grimly, their expressions matching her own.

Gilkriz took a deep breath and stared at the wall he'd conjured. "Let me know when you're ready." He raised his hands.

"Wait!" Q'arlynd said. "There may be another way to reach the Acropolis."

Leliana turned. "What way is that, Q'arlynd? Spit it out."

"I have an idea, Lady, inspired by the combined magic we three wizards just utilized to open the door." He gestured at the wall. The door, closed, was once again cloaked by illusion.

"Go on," Leliana said.

"You'll be utilizing positive energy to destroy the voidstone, correct?"

"That's the general plan. With Eilistraee's blessing, enough of us will get close enough to it to do just that."

Q'arlynd actually smiled. "What if I told you I could get all of us to the Acropolis?" He snapped his fingers. "Like that."

"I'm listening."

Q'arlynd slapped a hand against the wall. "The only thing preventing me from teleporting us into the cavern that holds the Acropolis is the Faerzress. There may be a way to counter it, however."

Gilkriz's eyebrows rose. "Suddenly you're an expert on Faerzress?"

Q'arlynd smiled. "When I lingered behind at the Moondeep, I conducted an experiment. I attempted a teleport. Faerie fire didn't erupt from my body, as it did back in Sshamath, but from the cavern wall that I… inadvertently touched. From within the Faerzress. The touch of my body somehow drew it to the surface of the rock. I think the problem lies within us-some unique link we drow have to Faerzress energy, which in turn is fed by negative energy. We draw the Faerzress in, somehow, and release it as faerie fire. It would therefore follow that, if we can fill our bodies with positive energy, we can force the Faerzress out. Then I can-"

All at once, Leliana saw what he was getting at. "Teleport us all to the Acropolis," she said, finishing his thought for him.

"Exactly."

"All very well, in theory," Gilkriz said in a dry voice. "But Q'arlynd's never even seen the Acropolis."

"I studied the map and heard a detailed description of the temple. For me, that's enough."

Leliana nodded. "I think it's worth a try."

The others nodded. All except Gilkriz, who stood with his arms folded, fingers drumming restlessly against his sleeves.

"All right then." Q'arlynd shrugged back his piwafwi and flexed his fingers. "Eldrinn, stand next to me; I may need your assistance with the spell. The rest of you, form a circle around me and link hands. As I finish my casting, I'll touch one of you, and we'll all go together."

"Eldrinn's a novice," Gilkriz protested. "What help will he be?"

"That's where you're wrong," Q'arlynd said. "Eldrinn's assisted my teleports before. He knows exactly what to do, and when. Just join hands with the others, Gilkriz, and you'll come along. Unless…" Q'arlynd arched an eyebrow. "Unless you'd rather remain here, snug and secure behind these lovely walls you just conjured, until it's all over and we can send someone back to fetch you."

The conjurer's nostrils flared, but he joined the circle. "I still don't believe this will work," he muttered.

"You haven't seen me teleport." The wizard nodded in Leliana's direction. "She has."

Gilkriz said nothing.

"Just be sure," Q'arlynd instructed the priestesses, "to maintain the flow of positive energy even after we reach the Acropolis. Hold it for at least a moment or two. Otherwise, we may miss our mark. If we land off target, we could wind up in solid stone. And that would be, well… unfortunate."

"Define 'unfortunate,' " Leliana said.

Q'arlynd grimaced. "Missing a few pounds of flesh, at best. At worst, you'll be meeting Eilistraee a lot sooner than anticipated."

Leliana turned to the priestesses. "Make your preparations. If this works, in another moment or two we'll be facing not just Crones and their undead minions, but a ghost."

The Protectors readied their weapons.

Leliana glanced at the halfling. "Brindell?"

The halfling tucked a silence stone into the pocket of her sling. "I'll be ready."

The priestesses formed a circle facing inward. Each stood with her sword in her right hand, her left hand on the shoulder of the person next to her. Their swords hummed softly. Gilkriz stood next to Brindell, who had to stand on tiptoe to reach his shoulder.

"Right," Leliana said. "Let's begin."

They sang, each keeping her attention focused inward, on the energy they were summoning into themselves and channeling to the center of their circle, where Q'arlynd and Eldrinn stood. On the song's second verse, a glimmer of moonlight blossomed around each priestess. Slowly, the circles of light expanded into the center of the circle. Each left a patch of shadow in its wake: shadow that obscured the glow of the Faerzress.

"It's working!" Eldrinn cried. "I can feel it!"

Q'arlynd grasped the boy's wrist. He raised his free hand; it hovered just over Leliana's shoulder. She felt the positive energy fill her, a sense of warmth and well-being as soothing as a soft hymn. She nodded at Q'arlynd: the signal. He snapped out an incantation and slapped his hand down on her shoulder.

Her stomach did a flipflop as the floor lurched sideways under her feet. Suddenly, she was standing with the others next to a building that loomed darkly beside them. The temple atop the Acropolis! Startled Crones whirled to face them, shrieking in anger. The Protectors' swords replied with a gleeful peal.

Just as Q'arlynd had instructed them, the Protectors held the final note of their song a moment longer. Q'arlynd's hand lifted from Leliana's shoulder. His eyes met hers, and his expression seemed strangely apologetic. Then he and Eldrinn disappeared.

Leliana blinked in surprise. Had something gone wrong with his spell?

"Cowards!" Gilkriz shouted at the empty space within their circle.

The Crones surged forward, hands raised. Fell magic crackled from their fingertips. At Leliana's shouted order the Protectors whirled to face outward, raised swords pealing as the priestesses cried out their battle hymns. Then the Crones were upon them.

As the Protectors fought with song and sword, Brindell slipped between the combatants and ran toward the temple, her sling whirling. She must have spotted something within the building. A moment later, a monstrous figure, twice the height of a drow and with spider legs protruding from her chest, burst from the doorway.

"Halisstra?" Leliana gasped. "But how…?"

Brindell hurled her stone. It struck Halisstra's chest dead center, between the scrabbling spider legs. Halisstra skidded to a halt and shouted something, but her voice was swallowed by the silence that clung to her.

A hand raked Leliana's side, tearing open an bloody wound-a Crone, taking advantage of the distraction. Leliana slashed, her sword severing the Crone's arm. The Crone reeled away, howling.

Leliana chanced another glance and felt the blood drain from her face. A ghostly form had risen out of solid stone directly behind Brindell-the translucent image of a Crone. The spirit they'd been warned about! The halfling had her back to the thing; she'd never see it in time.

Leliana dodged between two Crones and rushed the spirit, singing a battle prayer that made her sword shimmer. But even as her weapon swept down, the spirit threw back her head and wailed.

The sound stabbed into Leliana like an icy finger, breaking her stride. Her sword connected with something-a glancing blow, struck a heartbeat too late. Leliana staggered past the spirit, her heart fluttering in her chest. All around her, she saw her companions turn an ashen gray as they sagged to the ground. Leliana and Tash'kla remained on their feet, but only barely. Tash'kla was bent over nearly double, arms clutching her chest, her sword limp in her hand.

The spirit gave a ghostly, laugh. "Finish them," she whispered.

The Crones closed in.

Cavatina stared at the spiderlike figure up ahead. Large as an ox, it stood at the end of the thread-thin path of moonlight she'd been following. She'd seen its kind before: retrievers often ventured into the prime material plane to hunt down those who had drawn the ire of a demon lord. She wasn't surprised to find one guarding the portal.

What was surprising was that the retriever hadn't moved. She'd observed it for some time, and it hadn't so much as shifted a leg. It stood, rigid as a statue. It might have been poised there for a day, or for a millennium, waiting for someone to approach the portal.

Cavatina took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself. The battle with Wendonai had left her drained. She was naked, armed only with her singing sword. She would have to be careful.

She approached the retriever warily, sword in hand. The portal was a hole in the ground a pace or two from it, a round pucker in the hard, cracked soil. Next to this opening lay a huddled body. As she drew nearer, she recognized him by his robe: Daffir, the human diviner.

Even from several paces away, she could see that the human was dead. Fire had burned away his hair and crisped much of his scalp, revealing charred bone. The lenses that once hovered in front of his eyes lay on the ground nearby. His robe was a shredded mess, soaked with blood. He lay with one arm thrust stiffly forward, the fingers of that hand curled tight around a small silver disk. Sunlight glinted from it.

Cavatina crept closer. The retriever remained motionless.

She stepped around Daffir's body, close enough to have touched the demon. She leaned forward and prodded one of its legs with the point of her sword.

The blade clinked against solid stone.

She glanced back at Daffir. "So you managed to turn one of its rays back at it, did you?" She raised her sword in salute to the dead male. "Well done." She sang a prayer, asking Eilistraee to claim Daffir's soul, should it not already be spoken for by some other deity.

Her feet were sore from her long walk across the hard, salty plain and she was tired of having to constantly carry her sword. Daffir had boots and belt. She took both. She hacked off the bottom of the leather sheath that held his dagger, modifying it to accommodate her sword. Then she cinched the belt around her waist. The wizard's clothes were a ruined, bloody mess, so she left them on his body. She picked up his eye lenses and mirror and tied them into a piece of cloth, then knotted this around his wrist. If the priestesses back at the Promenade succeeded in reviving Daffir, he would need them.

These preparations made, she seized Daffir by the ankles and dragged him over to the portal. Rolling him into it wouldn't be a very dignified way to get him back, but she couldn't very well carry him. If there were hostile creatures on the other side of the portal, she'd need both hands free to fight.

With a grunt, she rolled Daffir into the hole.

His body vanished.

Cavatina drew her sword and held it in both hands. "Watch over me, Eilistraee," she whispered. "Guide my steps."

She leaped into the portal.

"Down" was suddenly behind her. She landed flat on her back on a cold stone floor, knocking the wind from her lungs. She scrambled to her feet and whirled, her sword humming a deadly warning. She was in a room, next to a quicksilver pool-a room dominated by a goat-headed statue twice her height.

A statue of the demon prince Orcus.

"Eilistraee!" she cried. "Shield me!"

Moonlight streaked with shadow erupted from her skin, washing out the fainter light of the Faerzress-impregnated walls, ceiling and floor.

The statue didn't move. It was, it would seem, mere stone. But appearances could be deceiving.

She stood directly in front of an arch that led into darkness, and a second arch stood on the other side of the statue. Across the room was a slab of studded iron that looked like a door. She backed away from the statue, half turned to the door, and searched for a handle with one hand.

There wasn't one.

"Looks like there's only one way out of here," she whispered, speaking to Daffir's corpse as much as to herself. "That other portal. I just wish you were still alive to tell me where it leads."

She dragged his body in front of the second arch. She lay her sword on the floor, tucked her hands under his body, and started to roll him into the portal. Before she could finish, she felt something tug on Daffir. Alarmed, she yanked the body back-hard enough to reveal hands clutching Daffir's robe. Each of the dark fingers was adorned with a silver ring.

A Crone!

Cavatina snatched up her sword. As the silver-ringed hands yanked Daffir back through the portal, she thrust through it, aiming for the spot where the Crone would be. The sweet peal of her sword was muffled as it passed into what lay beyond. She felt the weapon strike home. She yanked it back; the blade was bright with blood.

"Eilistraee!" she cried.

Sword singing, she charged into the portal.

Q'arlynd landed on a stone floor with an ankle-jolting thud. Thick, hot smoke surrounded him, blown by a roaring wind. Beside him, Eldrinn staggered sideways, his hand tearing out of Q'arlynd's grasp. Q'arlynd heard the clatter of the staff falling and rolling away. He could see nothing, however. The smoke was too thick, and it stabbed into his throat and lungs each time he breathed. Tears streamed from his eyes.

"Eldrinn!" he coughed. "The staff!"

He heard more rattling.

"Got it," the boy wheezed back.

Through the smoke, Q'arlynd saw a blue-green glow that shone brightly from the floor and walls. Faerzress? Worry flooded him. Had he landed off target? Or had the Faerzress there simply grown that strong?

"Someone's in the corridor," a husky female voice cried from somewhere to Q'arlynd's left. "Inside the smoke!"

"Alexa?" Eldrinn shouted back. "Is that you?"

"It's Eldrinn! He's back!"

More voices were talking, but not loud enough for Q'arlynd to make out the words.

"And Q'arlynd-I'm here, too!" he shouted. He didn't want anyone blasting him with a spell. When no one did, he let out a sigh of relief-which quickly turned into a rattling cough.

Eldrinn bumped into him from behind, and Q'arlynd grabbed the boy's piwafwi. Dragging Eldrinn in his wake, he fought his way toward the voices, forcing himself sideways through the howling wind.

They were out of the smoke. Kraanfhaor's Door was just ahead, and so were Alexa, Baltak, Piri, and Zarifar. Q'arlynd's teleport had been precisely on target, after all.

"What in the Nine Hells…" he coughed, "… are you apprentices…" he coughed again, "… doing?"

Piri crouched, holding a rod that extended into a hole he was busy burning in the stone beside the door. Heat waves danced above the rod. But for his demon-skinned hands, Piri's skin would have blistered away. Smoke billowed past him, out of the blackened hole.

Zarifar stood next to him, twiddling his index fingers, directing the smoke away down the corridor Q'arlynd had just teleported to. He stared dreamily at the fierce horizontal tornados his spell had turned the smoke into.

Baltak and Alexa stood next to a pile of gear. Bedrolls had been spread out on the floor. Alexa hurried forward to help Eldrinn, who'd doubled over in a coughing fit. Baltak remained where he was, hands on his hips. He'd abandoned his owlbear accoutrements for something new. His muscular body bore a layer of coin-sized, ice-white scales. The dragons carved into the door's surface had probably inspired his latest shapeshift.

"About time you two got back," he bellowed, his voice reverberating in his chest. "We're almost through."

"Let's see if you're right." Piri eased the rod out of the hole, hand over hand. Metal scraped against stone. A spent stonefire bomb pot was attached to the end of the rod, and the metal just below it was white-hot. The light of it lent a garish sheen to Piri's oily, green-tinted skin.

"How was Sschindylryn?" Alexa asked.

Eldrinn straightened. "Huh?"

"Knee-deep in travelers, as usual," Q'arlynd quickly answered.

"And the trade mission?" Baltak asked.

"It's drawing to a successful conclusion, even as we speak," Q'arlynd said, catching Eldrinn's eye.

"That's right," Eldrinn said. "Successful. No need for us there, any more. The negotiations were going so well we were able to leave early."

Q'arlynd hid his wince behind a nod and a smile. The boy's fumbling words sounded suspicious. But at least Eldrinn had stopped protesting. The boy had taken some convincing, but he'd eventually come around to Q'arlynd's way of thinking.

Neither of them, Q'arlynd had explained to Eldrinn before they'd teleported, knew a spell that would channel positive energy. They would be unable to help destroy the voidstone. Once Q'arlynd teleported the priestesses to the Acropolis, their part in the expedition would be at an end.

In the meantime, there was Kraanfhaor's Door to worry about. The staff had to be used before the Faerzress grew so intense that it blocked divinations altogether. Had Q'arlynd and Eldrinn remained at the Acropolis and waited for the priestesses to finish their work, it might have been days before they could return to Kraanfhaor's Door. By then, it might have been too late.

Thanks to Q'arlynd's teleport, the priestesses had sprung a surprise attack on the Acropolis. Even then, those singing swords of theirs would be making short work of the Crones. And Leliana and her priestesses would deal with the voidstone. All according to plan.

Q'arlynd had no reason to feel guilty.

None at all.

Piri let the rod clatter to the floor and waved his hands back and forth, cooling them. He could feel heat, even if it didn't harm him. "I hear Sschindylryn is having problems with their Faerzress." He nodded at the walls. "It's getting worse here, too."

Q'arlynd gave a noncommittal grunt and walked over to the door. Smoke curled from the hole beside it, though not in the dark billows it had before. Zarifar was still playing with the wind he'd conjured up, so it was hard to hear what anyone said above its roaring.

Q'arlynd caught his arm. "Stop that."

Zarifar lowered his hands and blinked. "Oh, hello, Q'arlynd. Where did you come from?"

Q'arlynd crouched and peered into the hole. Though the stonefire bomb had blackened and melted the stone next to it, the door itself was unblemished. Not so much as a streak of soot marked it. The hole was about ten paces deep, the length of the rod Piri had just hauled out of it. Kraanfhaor's Door, Q'arlynd saw, was just as thick.

He touched the front of the door. The stone under his fingers was cooler by far than the hot air that filled the corridor.

Q'arlynd nodded down at the stonefire bomb. "That isn't going to work."

"That's what I told them," Baltak boomed.

"We've proved one thing, at least," Piri said. "The stone that makes up that door exists in some sort of extradimensional space. Each time the stonefire started to reveal the far side of the door, it extended farther."

Alexa picked up a wooden tray and began sorting through the glass vials it held. "I tried several different acids on the door itself, but none made even the slightest mark."

"Frost won't crack it, either," Baltak boomed. He slapped a hand against the door. His fingers ended in claws, clear and glistening as ice. They scritched against the door as he drew them across it. "The stone can't even be scratched."

"There are patterns," Zarifar said. "I tried to identify them, but I can't quite…" His fingers traced lines in the air. "They seem so familiar, and yet…" he shrugged and let his hand fall, "they elude me."

"Excellent!" Q'arlynd announced.

The others stared at him blankly.

"Listen to you-you're working together. Well done."

His students glanced sidelong at one another when he said that-wary that he'd been talking between the lines. Had they let down their guard, shown some vulnerability, done something wrong?

Q'arlynd chuckled. "Well done," he repeated. "And I mean just what I say."

It was the truth. Leaving his apprentices on their own had been the best move he could have made. Had he remained there, he would have directed their experiments, led them along by the nose like rothe. Instead they'd tried to come up with solutions on their own. Fruitless attempts, but attempts just the same. Their initial decision to work together might have been motivated by a desire to keep an eye on each other, but that didn't matter. They'd become a team.

And since Q'arlynd knew how to open the door, they'd reap the rewards.

The anticipation nearly made Q'arlynd giddy.

He realized he was smiling. He set his face in a more serious expression. A smile could be an unnerving thing, to a drow. It usually preceded some sort of painful punishment.

"Eldrinn," Q'arlynd said, "your staff. It's time to open this door."

"You really think the staff is the solution?"

"We'll know that soon enough."

"I can't believe it!" Baltak shouted. "Q'arlynd knew how to open it, all along."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Piri asked, his voice thick with suspicion.

"It was a test," Q'arlynd answered, "of your willingness to work together. You passed."

He took the staff from Eldrinn. As the others crowded around, he closed his eyes. It took a moment to block out the rustles of their clothing, and their rapid, anxious breaths, but soon he achieved full concentration. He drew the staff toward himself and touched his forehead to the crystal at the center of it, just as Daffir had done.

"Show me the past," he whispered. "Show me how the Miyeritari opened this door."

Despite Q'arlynd's concentration, he heard Alexa's surprised murmur, "It can do that?"

Q'arlynd waited several moments, but nothing happened. No visions popped into his mind, no voices whispered in his ear. He tried for several moments more, with his eyes open. Nothing.

Heat prickled his cheeks. Daffir had never uttered a word when using the staff, but perhaps there was some silent mental command that was required. Eldrinn had assured Q'arlynd there wasn't, but knowledge of the command may have been stripped from the boy's mind by the feeblewit spell.

Q'arlynd felt a mind tickle his-probably Baltak. Q'arlynd pushed whoever it was out. "Don't distract me," he growled. "I'll show you how it's done in just a moment."

He decided to test the staff. Silently, he implored it to show him a vision, from just a short time ago, of the arrival of himself and Eldrinn. A vision instantly coalesced in his mind: the pair of them, stumbling out of a thick pall of smoke. Elated, Q'arlynd banished that vision and concentrated harder, trying to force his mind back to the distant past. Centuries ago. Millennia. He caught a fleeting glimpse of a brown-skinned elf, standing in front of the door, hand raised. Then the Faerzress crackled across the vision, obscuring it in a blaze of blue-green light.

"Spit me on a lance," Q'arlynd whispered fiercely.

He glared at the nearest wall. The Faerzress wasn't strong enough-yet-to block divinations entirely. But it wasn't allowing him to maintain the concentration he needed to reach so far back into the past.

Q'arlynd's palms were damp with sweat. The voidstone, obviously, had not yet been destroyed. Had his decision to part ways with the priestesses been a terrible mistake? Were Leliana and the others lying dead atop the Acropolis, even then? If so, the Faerzress there would continue to brighten, eventually rendering all divination impossible. If Q'arlynd had remained at the Acropolis and blasted a few of the Crones with his spells, might the priestesses have prevailed?

"What's wrong, Q'arlynd?" Eldrinn asked.

"Nothing," Q'arlynd said tersely. Irritation flared inside him at the fact that Eldrinn, a mere boy-an apprentice-had been able to pluck the necessary vision from the past when Q'arlynd couldn't. But that had been nearly two years ago, prior to the Faerzress. He…

Just a moment. Q'arlynd didn't need to look back to the time of ancient Miyeritar. Kraanfhaor's Door had been opened much more recently than that. Eldrinn had opened it less than two years ago. And Q'arlynd himself had opened it even more recently than that.

He closed his eyes again and concentrated. Show me myself, opening the door, he silently commanded the staff. Show me how I did it.

The Faerzress still impeded the divination, but it didn't obscure it entirely. Q'arlynd watched, fascinated, as an image of himself appeared. The vision-Q'arlynd had a kiira on his forehead, and was walking toward the door. It was odd, observing himself-and a little unnerving, to see the glassy look in his own eyes. The kiira had been utterly controlling him. He watched intently as the vision-Q'arlynd stepped up to the door, raised a hand, touched a finger to the massive block of stone and…

The vision-Q'arlynd bent forward and cupped a hand over his moving fingers, blocking Q'arlynd's view of his hand.

The kiira had anticipated that someone might be watching.

Q'arlynd took a deep breath, steadying himself. It didn't matter. He could still solve the riddle by observing Eldrinn. There had been no kiira on Eldrinn's forehead, the first time he'd opened the door.

He tried again. Show me Eldrinn, he silently commanded the staff. Show me the first time he opened Kraanfhaor's Door.

In his mind's eye, Eldrinn appeared, standing in front of Kraanfhaor's Door. The boy was wearing different clothes, and was holding the staff. Another male-the soldier Q'arlynd had found dead on the High Moor-stood next to Eldrinn. The fellow was going to die soon but didn't know it, poor wretch.

Q'arlynd shoved the useless sentiment aside and concentrated on Eldrinn. He watched as the boy held the staff to his forehead, just as Q'arlynd was doing. After a moment, Eldrinn laughed. His hand moved up to the door, his finger traced a sign.

Q'arlynd leaned forward expectantly but could see only a portion of the sign, the same sequence they'd glimpsed during their experiment with the chitine. The rest was hidden when the soldier stepped up next to Eldrinn, blocking Q'arlynd's view.

The vision faded.

"Well?" Baltak boomed.

"I'm making progress," Q'arlynd snapped.

He stood, thinking. If he shifted position, to the opposite side of the vision-Eldrinn, he might be able to see the entire sign. He strode to that side of the door and summoned up the vision again. He peered intently through the obscuring blur of faerie fire as the vision-Eldrinn went through the same motions, walking up to the door, touching the staff to his forehead, and tracing his finger along the door.

Then the same thing happened, someone blocked the view. And yet Q'arlynd could see the soldier clearly, standing just behind Eldrinn. Had a third person been there when Eldrinn opened the door?

Whoever it had been, Q'arlynd couldn't make out details. The form was vague, indistinct. It was there, but somehow… not there.

Q'arlynd's jaw was clenched. Realizing that would betray his frustration, he pretended to stretch sore neck muscles. He didn't want the others thinking the door had defeated him. Calm down, he told himself, and try again.

He moved to the other side of the door and summoned up the vision again. Once again, someone blocked his view. Q'arlynd concentrated on this person, trying to bring him into focus. The staff fought him. It felt as if the diamond and his forehead were two lodestones, pushing each other apart.

Q'arlynd persevered, concentrating until sweat beaded on his temple.

At last he saw that the third person clearly. The person's back was to him, but Q'arlynd recognized him at once by his distinctive hairclip. It was Eldrinn blocking the view.

For a moment, Q'arlynd thought the real Eldrinn had stepped in front of him. Then he remembered that his eyes were closed. The duplicate Eldrinn was also holding the staff. The two Eldrinns were identical in every way, except that one held the staff to the side as he traced the sign on the door, while the other held the staff to his forehead, eyes closed. And no matter what Q'arlynd did, the second Eldrinn blocked his view.

Q'arlynd tried to force the second Eldrinn out of the vision, so that he could see how the first was opening the door, but the staff wouldn't let him. He drew the staff closer, until the diamond was a painful dent against his forehead, and gritted out through clenched teeth, "Show… me…"

The staff flew from Q'arlynd's fingers and clattered to the floor.

Q'arlynd swore, barely suppressing the urge to kick it.

"What's wrong?" Piri asked, backing away in alarm.

Alexa shrugged. "Maybe it doesn't want to show him the past."

"Maybe he's got it wrong," Baltak rumbled. "Maybe the staff doesn't show the past, but the future."

"It shows both," Eldrinn said. "I'm certain of-"

"Of course it does!" Q'arlynd cried. He threw back his head and laughed. That was it! That was why there had been a double Eldrinn in the vision, because the staff was showing Q'arlynd two pasts at the same time-pasts that were separated by mere moments. Eldrinn hadn't used the staff to reveal how the ancient Miyeritari had opened the door. The boy had looked into the future, instead. His own future. He'd watched himself open the door, then duplicated what was about to happen.

Q'arlynd reached out and gently punched Eldrinn on the shoulder. "Very clever. Very clever indeed."

The boy blinked, uncomprehending. "Huh?"

The other apprentices mirrored his blank stare.

Q'arlynd scooped up the staff. "All right," he told his students. "I'm going to try it again. As before, please maintain silence. And…" he tapped his temple, "keep your distance." He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to the diamond.

Show me the future, he silently commanded. Show me myself, a few moments from now, opening the door.

The moment he thought the words, the push-pull sensation came back. He tightened his grip on the staff, refusing to let it tear from his hands. Then the vision came, as commanded. Q'arlynd watched, barely breathing, as his hand lifted to trace a sign on the door. A different sign from the one the vision-Eldrinn had traced.

Then, just as the kiira-dominated Q'arlynd from the past had done, the Q'arlynd of the future deliberately hid the sign he was tracing from sight.

"Why did you do that?" he exploded.

The vision ended.

His apprentices stared at him, waiting expectantly. For once, even Baltak said nothing.

Q'arlynd was still trying to make sense of what he'd just seen. Like the kiira, his future self didn't want anyone to see how he opened the door. But that meant that Q'arlynd himself couldn't see how it was done. Yet someone had to observe how it was done, or the door couldn't be opened.

Q'arlynd stroked his chin, thinking. An idea occurred to him-one that he almost instinctively rejected. Grudgingly, however, he realized it was the only course of action that might work. If he invited the others into his mind, let them watch the vision-Q'arlynd from the future open the door, perhaps one of them might able to recognize the sign from its first, preliminary motions.

He glanced around at his apprentices. At Baltak, his broad chest puffed with his own self-importance. Piri, slinking about in his demon skin. Eldrinn, chewing his lip, no doubt nervous about what his father was going to say about their having abandoned the expedition to the Acropolis. Alexa, standing next to the boy, taller than him by a head. And Zarifar, who stared dreamily at the door, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the others.

"I need your help," Q'arlynd said, each word a stone he had to force out. "Use your rings to join minds with me, everyone. Observe the vision I'm seeing. You're about to see me, in the immediate future, opening Kraanfhaor's Door. Pay close attention to my hand, we need to know what arcane sign is being made."

Eldrinn's eyebrows rose. "So that's how I did it."

"Yes."

The others glanced at the boy, a new respect in their eyes.

"Let's begin," Q'arlynd told them.

A moment later, he felt them slip into his mind, one by one. Thrusting their way in or stealing in on velvet slippers, as was their wont. Baltak had to elbow Zarifar to get the latter's attention, but at last the geometer mage was inside, too-for all the good that would do.

Q'arlynd drew the staff toward himself. "Show me," he commanded it. "Show me the future. Show me myself, opening the door."

As it had before, the vision unfolded. When it finished, Q'arlynd lowered the staff. "Well?"

His apprentices glanced sidelong at one another, stared at the ceiling, or scowled, thinking-all but Zarifar, who swayed back and forth, humming. Then Zarifar struck a pose. He pirouetted on one foot, one hand raised above his head.

Piri eased away, as if afraid Zarifar's madness might be contagious.

Q'arlynd grabbed Zarifar's wrist. "What are you doing?"

Zarifar tugged against the restraining hand as if he couldn't understand why he'd suddenly stopped twirling. "The pattern," he said. His raised fingers twitched. "I'm the pattern."

Alexa signed something to Eldrinn. Q'arlynd caught only the last word and the finger flick that made it a question:… feeblewit?

Q'arlynd sighed and let go of Zarifar's arm. Maybe Alexa was right. Something had stripped both his own and Eldrinn's minds of memories. It was possible that merely observing that last vision might have done the same to Zarifar.

Zarifar stopped dancing and grabbed Q'arlynd's left arm in both hands. "The pattern," he said again, his eyes bright and intense, all trace of their former dreaminess gone. He yanked Q'arlynd's hand up in front of his face and waved it back and forth. "The pattern!"

Q'arlynd scoffed. All he was looking at was his own raised hand and the leather wristband below it, which bore his House insignia.

"Yes," Zarifar breathed. "That pattern."

Belatedly, Q'arlynd realized the apprentice's mind was still touching his own.

Zarifar at last let go of his arm.

Q'arlynd realized his mouth was hanging open. He didn't care. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "That's what opened Kraanfhaor's Door?" He waggled his fingers, pretending to practice a gesture. Silently, he asked Zarifar a question: Have I got it right? The pattern is the glyph for House Melarn?

Zarifar nodded.

Q'arlynd had to fight hard to hide his smile.

The others might, in time, figure out the truth. Q'arlynd doubted it would matter. In his vision of Eldrinn opening the door-the vision he hadn't shared with them-Eldrinn had traced a different symbol on the door. A different House glyph, Q'arlynd surmised. Likely that of his own House.

Kraanfhaor's Door, he suspected, would open only to someone who knew how to use his own, very personal, knock.

Q'arlynd understood why he had hidden his hand from view. Why he would hide his hand from view.

"Right," he said. "Time to get this thing open."

He handed the staff to Eldrinn then turned, faced the door, and raised his hand.