Tymora's luck

ACT THREE SCENE 8

Joel drew out a torch from his belt and lit it from another torch burning in a sconce on the parapet. If the giant yugoloths could see in the dark, they would spot him easily. He might as well appear as if he had every right to be on the wall. He strode with purpose along the road between the two walls in the direction of the gate.

Giant yugoloths milled about everywhere atop the walls. Some stared outward from the bastion, but most leaned along the inner wall, watching their fellows drilling in the courtyard below. Bored out of their minds, Joel expected. There were none of the smaller yugoloths atop the wall at the moment. No doubt they came up here only to make periodic inspections.

The bard halted when he stood over the gate. If the gatehouse was laid out as he expected, the controls for the gate would be in a room just above the gate-directly beneath his feet. There was a trapdoor near the outer wall that must lead down to the control room. Two yugoloths stood on it.

Joel looked out over the wall to the outside of the fortress with an expression of annoyance on his face. After a moment, he whirled around and addressed the nearest yugoloth. "Tyrannar Neri is expecting a visitor. She is late in arriving. Have you spotted anyone approaching the bastion?" he demanded imperiously.

The yugoloth shrugged and shook its head.

Joel tapped his foot impatiently and glared at the yugoloth as if it might be lying. After a moment, he said, "I need to speak with the gatekeeper immediately."

Joel felt a sharp pain in one side of his head, and the yugoloth's telepathic words formed in his mind: Not standard procedure, the yugoloth informed him.

"I know it's not standard procedure," Joel snapped. "It's not standard procedure for the tyrannar to cower in the temple either, or for an angry goddess to take up residence in our lord's throne room, now, is it?"

Not our fault the gatekeeper let her in, the yugoloth insisted.

Joel rolled his eyes as if he were tired of the yugoloths excuses. "I know that," he said. "Unless you-"

An excuse not to pay us on time, the yugoloth argued.

"Since when does the tyrannar need an excuse?" Joel growled. "As I was saying, unless you want a repetition of the whole ugly affair with Beshaba, I suggest you let me speak with the gatekeeper."

Another power is coming? the yugoloth demanded. The creature chittered with its teeth in what Joel presumed was a nervous reaction.

"Beshaba has a sister, you know," Joel replied curtly.

Several of the yugoloths joined in a chorus of chittering. The yugoloth who was communicating with Joel motioned with its head, and the two standing on the trapdoor stepped aside. One of the yugoloths pulled on the ring that opened the door. A flicker of torchlight shone in the hole below. A ladder led downward. Joel could see no sign of the gatekeeper.

Joel handed his torch to the yugoloth spokesman and began climbing down the ladder. When he'd gone down four steps, he looked up at the yugoloth and ordered, "Close the door behind me. I'll knock when I'm ready to leave." Then the bard continued his descent.

With his hand clenched about the little wooden harp, Joel stepped down to the floor of the gate's control room. It was possible the gatekeeper would prove to be some creature he couldn't deceive. If such a creature, whatever it was, attacked him, he would be left with no choice but to flee to Fermata.

The air was suffocating in the room below. It took Joel's eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dim light of a single torch. A tiny window in the outer wall looked out over the gate, and another one on the opposite wall looked out over the courtyard. An array of large gears, levers, and handles occupied the other two walls.

There were signs that the gatekeeper actually lived in the room. A cot stood against the outer window, and beneath that a chamber pot. On a small table beside the cot rested a water bottle and a half-finished meat pie.

A figure stood beside the cot. Joel's eyes widened in surprise. While his inductive reasoning had proved correct-the gatekeeper did indeed prove to be a human, and a priest — the gatekeeper's identity came as a bit of a shock to the bard. The gatekeeper wore the robes of a novice. He was tall and handsome, with blue eyes and golden hair.

It was the same priest of Xvim Joel had battled four nights ago in Sigil. The priest who had arranged for Jas's abduction. The priest who had deliberately killed himself by slicing his flesh to shreds on the razorvine. Upon his death, the Xvimlar had returned here to his god's realm as a petitioner.

Lucky I disguised my features, Joel thought. It was lucky, too, that he had learned the priest's name from Walinda's interrogation of the dead hydroloth. "I am Hate-master Camfer, Hatemaster Perr," the bard greeted the man.

The priest bowed. "Perr?" Was that my name?" he asked.

Suddenly Joel remembered that petitioners recalled nothing of their past lives. Finder had given his only two petitioners their names again, but apparently the Xvimlar didn't bother with such niceties.

"Yes," Joel answered.

"I was powerful then," Perr noted, with a hint of anger in his voice.

Joel was struck with an idea. An unsettled gatekeeper was a poor gatekeeper. A true follower of Xvim would never settle for such a lowly position. Even as a petitioner, a follower of Xvim would be ambitious, would despise others, especially those who kept him from the superior position of power to which his faith entitled him.

"Yes," Joel replied. "Before you died, you were powerful. If you had succeeded in your last mission, they would have made you a ruinlord… possibly." "Possibly? Why possibly?" Perr asked.

"Well, you know the political situa- Oh, excuse me. I'd forgotten. You don't remember, do you?" Joel asked.

"No," Perr replied with a chill tone.

"Suffice it to say you did not get along with Tyrannar Neri, but he might still have promoted you. After all, you were his man. Tyrannar Noxxe, on the other hand, never appreciated your devotion."

"But Tyrannar Noxxe is dead," Perr noted.

"But he wouldn't have died if Beshaba hadn't entered the fortress, which she might not have done if you had been successful in your last mission. But if you had been successful and lived, Noxxe might still be alive and you wouldn't be promoted. Hence, I qualified my statement with 'possibly.'"

"What was my last mission in life?" Perr asked.

"Well, your cover story was you were bringing back a runaway slave. Actually, you were involved in arranging an attack on Beshaba's fortress," Joel lied.

"Why?"

Joel shrugged. "I do not know. You would not tell me more before you left."

"I told you of my mission? Were we friends?" Perr asked.

"Hardly," Joel said with a sniff. "We are, after all, priests of Xvim. It would be more accurate to say we share most of the same enemies. Nonetheless, it irks me to see you reduced to this menial role. It's a waste of your talents."

"I am gatekeeper of the Bastion of Hate," Perr growled. "It is an honor accorded me for having died in service to Lord Xvim."

"Look around you. This is a slave's job. It's been pushed off on you because you're an expendable petitioner," Joel retorted. "Everyone of any power is in the temple trying to hide from Beshaba's spreading ill luck. Otherwise they'd put someone with more sense in here. Tell me, did you let Beshaba into the fortress because she enchanted you, or did you hope she might destroy Tyrannar Noxxe?"

"I did not let her in," Perr shouted angrily. "She tore both gates in half. Nearly a hundred yugoloths died trying to block her entry before they realized she was a goddess and fled before her mad eyes."

"Really?" Joel asked with astonishment. "Excuse me. I see that Tyrannar Neri has misinformed me concerning the goddess's arrival. He's convinced the surviving yugoloths that you let her in. No doubt Neri was eager to convince everyone that you were not worthy of this post, let alone one more challenging and suitable to one of your power."

"I had the gate repaired in less than two hours," Pen-said proudly. "And it functions perfectly-better, in fact, than it did before."

"Well, that is hardly surprising," Joel said, "considering the talents you possessed in life. As I said before, your talents are wasted in this position."

"Are you prepared to offer me another position, Hate-master Camfer?" Perr asked.

Joel smiled. 'That all depends," he said. He turned to look out the window of the inner bastion wall, the one that overlooked the courtyard. The giant yugoloths were still performing marching drills down below.

"On what?" Perr asked.

Joel turned back to face the petitioner. "Tyrannar Neri has insulted you by placing you here," he insisted. "He may even have been behind the failure of your last mission. Just because the other tyrannars call him Neri the Nitwit doesn't mean that Neri isn't a cunning man. My offer depends on your hatred of this man whom you should call your enemy. Is your hate great enough to spur you to action? Are you prepared to seize the power that should rightfully be yours?"

Perr's lips were set in a sneer, and his blue eyes glittered in the torchlight like a fiend ready to do battle in the Blood War. Despite his hatred, Perr was no one's fool. I presume you have a plan to do away with Tyrannar Neri that will put me at great risk," he stated bluntly.

Joel smiled coldly. "It will only put you at risk if it fails," he said. "Naturally the plan does not depend on you, though it will be easier if you help us. The risk you take will serve as proof you are worthy of the power with which you will be rewarded. Of course, you are free to turn down my offer should you prefer to serve out the rest of eternity as a slave."

"I am a petitioner. I will soon merge with Lord Xvim," Perr countered.

Merging with one's god was the ultimate goal for a petitioner, Finder had explained to Joel. When the petitioner's spirit was sufficiently like his god's, the two became as one. Of course, the spiritual growth necessary for a merger would be far different for petitioners of Xvim than the petitioners of any other god.

"Perhaps you have confused Lord Xvim with a god of obedient sheep," Joel retorted haughtily. "Slaves do not merge with the New Darkness. A petitioner must become as Lord Xvim himself is, consumed by hatred and a tyrant over all, before there can be a merger. We have never had to replace a gatekeeper because one merged with Lord Xvim."

Perr glared at Joel, but he did not deny the wisdom of the false hatemaster's words. "So what is your plan, and how will I be rewarded?" he asked.

"First," Joel said, "tell me, when someone calls at the gate, who decides to let him in?"

Perr shrugged. "I don't know exactly. I drop a note out that window," he said, pointing to the window looking out over the courtyard, "and a yugoloth carries it to the temple. I wait at the window until Hatemaster Morr arrives and signals me to open the gate. If he does not give me the signal to open the gate or does not come, I do not open the gate."

Which was why, Joel realized, Hatemaster Morr had been the one to greet "Marin the Red" at the gate. "And would you ever question Hatemaster Morr's signal?" Joel asked.

"Of course not," Perr insisted. "Tyrannar Neri ordered me to obey his commands."

"Suppose there were an army of tanar'ri sitting at the gate, commanded by a priestess of Beshaba?"

"Why would Hatemaster Morr signal me to open the gate to such an army?" Perr asked with surprise.

"Would that make a difference as to whether or not you would obey him?" Joel asked.

Perr looked confused. "Such at thing would be a betrayal of Lord Xvim," he said.

"Only if Lord Xvim gave a damn," Joel said. "Suppose Lord Xvim enticed Beshaba here as a test of his tyrannars-a test that I believe they have all failed. They cower in the temple waiting for Lord Xvim to return and save them all. Not one is filled with enough hatred to seize the opportunity offered them. Beshaba-the goddess herself, not merely one of her avatars-lies unconscious in Lord Xvim's throne room, no doubt from some magic set there by the lord himself. Yet not one of the tyrannar acts to destroy Lord Xvim's enemy."

"You can't kill a goddess," Perr insisted. Then, less certainly, he asked, "Can you?"

"A mortal, no. But another goddess could."

"What goddess?" Perr asked with obvious fascination.

"Tymora," Joel said. "She and her sister, Beshaba, have always hated one another. Of course, this works to the glory of Lord Xvim. He feeds on their hatred, for the hatred and tyranny of the gods can be far more powerful than that of mere mortals. I have lured Tymora here with the information that Xvim has abducted one of Tymora's favorites, the bird woman Jasmine, and plans to give her to Beshaba. Tymora is so enraged that she fully intends to destroy Beshaba. I think Lord Xvim would be most pleased if the death were to take place in his holy tower."

Perr's jaw dropped, and he remained speechless for several moments. Joel did not spoil the mood by breaking the silence. He waited patiently for Perr to react. Finally the petitioner said, "It is dangerous… but so brilliant." There was admiration in the look he gave Joel.

"I haven't much more time to waste," the bard said. "It doesn't really matter whether you open the gate or not, because Tymora can tear it in half as easily as Beshaba did. I am telling you this only to test your loyalties. Tymora will come disguised as a priestess of Beshaba, because she believes Beshaba is in league with Xvim and that we will admit a priestess to attend her mistress. If we fail to admit her, she will admit herself, and her army of tanar'ri will attack the yugoloths until she reaches Beshaba. The tyrannars know nothing of my plan." "But Hatemaster Morr does?" Perr asked.

"Hatemaster Morr is dead," Joel replied, "though his body has not yet been discovered."

"Is that why you go shaven and pierced as Hatemaster Morr does-did? To imitate him?" Perr asked.

"It is satisfying to learn that death has not dulled your keen mind," Joel replied. "I have noticed that the yugoloths have nearly as much trouble distinguishing one human from another as we do telling the yugoloths apart. They recognize Hatemaster Morr's naked head and lip ring rather than his features."

"So you will give me the signal to open the gate. If I do, how will I be rewarded?" Perr asked, obviously excited. He was breathing more quickly now.

"That will depend on how Lord Xvim rewards me. Though I wear the robes of a hatemaster to imitate Hate-master Morr, I am actually a ruinlord. I believe Lord Xvim will raise me to the rank of a tyrannar. I will then ask that you not only be restored to the rank and power of a hate-master, but to the rank and power you should have attained had Tyrannar Neri not foiled your last mission. I will ask Lord Xvim to make you a ruinlord. Although you are a petitioner, he can grant you such power. That is, of course, assuming you have not yet by then merged with Lord Xvim. This scheme might be the chance you await. What greater tyranny can a mortal attain than to aid in the destruction of a god? What greater hatred can he show than betraying commanders who are actually his inferiors?"

Perr flicked his right hand backward at the wrist. "That is the signal Hatemaster Morr gives to open the gate," he said.

Joel imitated the signal. "Darkness falls," he intoned solemnly, imitating the greetings he had heard exchanged by other priests of Xvim.

"And darkness rises again," Perr responded.

Once Joel had crawled out of the gatekeeper's suffocating quarters, he began to shiver despite the warmth of the Gehennan air. He had the uncomfortable feeling he had been transformed into a priest of the god Cyric, Prince of Lies. He pressed his hand against the finders stone inside his shirt and was comforted by its warmth. Finder was still with him.

The yugoloth he'd spoken to earlier was staring at him. He stared back, debating whether or not to try to convince these creatures not to defend the fortress when the tanar'ri attack came. In the end, he decided not to try. It would be far more complicated than it had been to convince Perr to open the gate. The yugoloths would take their orders from a higher-ranking yugoloth, and Joel had no way of knowing which one that would be. Without actually lying, he had already suggested to them that Tymora was coming. Considering what had happened to their fellows when Beshaba had arrived, that deception might keep them from attacking Walinda, providing this yugoloth spread the rumor that Tymora was expected.

Joel knew better than to repeat the lie, though. It would look manipulative. Either the yugoloths gossiped or they didn't.

He strode off down the wall until he turned a corner. There were more yugoloth guards up ahead. He noticed another trapdoor at his feet. He opened it without a trace of furtiveness. The ladder leading down into the darkness below was scaled for a large yugoloth, but Joel managed to make his way down it without breaking his neck.

Joel pulled out the finder's stone. By its light, he could see that he was in a room with a window looking out over the courtyard. The room was empty save for him, a table and a chair, and a dead yugoloth, one of the short, lobster-like ones. It lay on its back, its carapace sliced down the center from its head to the bottom of its tail. Its entrails had been pulled out and stomped on.

From somewhere in the walls, Joel caught the muffled sounds of a battle with swords. He stood at the window and thought of Jas. The finder's stone sent a beacon of light up to another part of the wall. Joel hoped Jas was paying attention, for he didn't dare use the beacon for long. After only a few heartbeats, he slipped the magic crystal back into his shirt and stepped to one side of the window.

The bard counted to five hundred before returning to the window to resignal the winged woman, but Jas appeared in the window just as Joel was pulling out the finder's stone. She had Emilo with her.

'Sorry we took so long," Jas apologized. "We were just finishing up. Did you know that Walinda's troops are starting to mass outside the bastion?"

"She said she'd give me half a day," Joel replied.

"Well, apparently she got impatient," Jas retorted. She looked down at the dead yugoloth on the floor. "Your handiwork?" she asked.

Joel shook his head. "I take it isn't yours either."

"No," Jas replied. "Looks like one of the bigger yugoloths got tired of taking orders from this guy."

"We started the fighting going on down the hall," Emilo said excitedly. "And Jas has set up fifteen barrels of smoke powder to explode."

"You did what?" Joel gasped. "Do you know how dangerous that stuff is? It's been outlawed in fifteen cities in the Heartlands."

"Trust me," Jas said. "I know what I'm doing. It may be enough to knock a hole in the outer wall, and maybe not. At any rate, it will make a great diversion. What did you find out about the gate?"

"I think I've got the gatekeeper convinced to open the gate on my signal. Unless he's got me completely fooled, or he changes his mind, or he figures out I'm not a ruinlord of Xvim."

Suddenly there was a tremendous boom, like a fireball cast by an ancient wizard, and the floor shook beneath them.

"Was that another quake from Beshaba?" Emilo asked.

Jas leaned out the window and peered out into the darkness. "Damn! I think my smoke powder went off a little early," she declared.

Joel looked out the window. A fire burned out of control on the wall across the courtyard from them.

"Does it look to you like the wall's collapsed a little?" Jas asked.

"It's too dark for me to tell," Joel replied. "This isn't good," he huffed. "Now the priests are going to be on the alert. I thought you said you knew what you were doing."

"Hey, as hot as it is in this place, anything could have set it off," Jas retorted. "Maybe a yugoloth got careless with a torch, or a little fountain of lava sprouted up nearby. Walinda had to be near enough to hear it. Maybe she'll take it as a sign to begin her attack."

"I was hoping we might avoid a big battle," Joel said.

"What difference does it make?" Jas said. "So some yugoloths and some tanar'ri tear each other apart."

"Holly's out there," Joel reminded the winged woman. "You heard how upset she was about Walinda sacrificing her troops. She's likely to try to protect the bar-lgura."

Jas looked down at the floor, unable to argue with the bard's assessment.

"Maybe you better try summoning Walinda now with the finder's stone," Emilo suggested, "before the priests get themselves organized."

Joel nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "Jas, fly me down to the ground near the wall. I'll signal her through the gate. While I'm taking care of that, I want you to take Emilo back to the tower. Emilo, climb down the stairs to the throne room on the first floor and wait there without giving yourself away. Walinda's betrayed us more than once in the past. We need to keep you in reserve in case she proves ungrateful for all we've done for her. Stay away from the imp. Jas, I may not need you, but wait for my signal, just in case."

Once on the ground in the courtyard, Joel made his way along the wall toward the gate. The larger yugoloths were no longer drilling in formation but milling about in large, tight herds, while the shorter ones were trying to reorganize them. A group of novice priests emerged from a door in the wall and hurried toward him.

"Hatemaster, what's going on?" one of the novices asked.

"What's going on?" Joel imitated the man's panicked voice. "Tyrannar Neri is setting off fireworks to announce the start of his tea party," the bard replied sarcastically. "What do you think is going on, you ninny? We're under attack, of course. If you know what's good for you, you'll get back inside the wall."

"Wouldn't we be safer in the temple?" another novice asked. It might be better, the bard realized, if he could keep the novices separated from the temple so the higher-ranking priests within received no information. He had to make them think it was their idea, however.

"Fine. Go right ahead," Joel said. "The yugoloths are in some sort of snit about not being paid, but if you want to walk past them while they're in such a quarrelsome mood, feel free," he added, waving his arm in the direction of the courtyard.

The novices glanced nervously at the yugoloths milling about in the courtyard, then turned and hurried back through the door into the wall. Joel continued on toward the gate.

When he came to the iron portcullis, he halted and peered out into the darkness. Against the red glow of the lava river, he saw the silhouettes of hundreds of bulezau. There was no sign of the bar-lgura or Walinda. Joel pulled out the finder's stone and concentrated on the priestess. The beacon of light shot through the portcullises of the inner and outer walls and struck a boulder not more than a hundred yards away from the gate.

Come on, Walinda, the bard thought impatiently. I can't signal for them to open the gate if they don't see you. He slipped the finder's stone back into his shirt.

Joel didn't care whether the priestess made her appearance because of the signal from the finder's stone or because she had read the bard's thoughts as long as her appearance made an impressive spectacle. Suddenly the air around the boulder shimmered and the priestess manifested herself. She was kneeling on the magic carpet, which hovered five feet off the ground. As the carpet glided forward, Holly stepped from the dark ranks of the bulezau and walked along beside it. Then the marilith slithered forward behind Holly.

The carpet halted directly before the gate. The ebon aura of power that surrounded the evil priestess had grown until it blocked out the light from the lava river behind her.

From the wall above, Joel heard the gatekeeper call out, "Who goes there?"

Walinda, with her head held high and her back as straight as an eastern princess's, called out, "I am Walinda of Beshaba. I have come at the summons of Lady Beshaba."

Joel stepped back away from the portcullis so that Petitioner Perr could see him from the window in the gate control room.

Perr looked down upon the bard disguised as Hate-master Morr. Joel gave him the signal to open the gate. Perr disappeared from the window.

All right, Perr, old buddy, Joel thought, this is it. Your moment of destiny. Please don't make me look like a fool.

Both portcullises raised up all the way, as if Perr wanted to be sure this woman he believed to be Beshaba's sister didn't feel inclined to damage his newly repaired gates.

"Enter and be welcome, Walinda of Beshaba," Joel called out, "in the name of the New Darkness."

One of the larger yugoloths came running up to Joel and halted at his side. An agonizing pain blazed across the bard's head as the creature shouted telepathically, There are hundreds of invisible bar-lgura all around the priestess!

"I am aware of that," Joel lied, realizing that the yugoloths could see the invisible beings he had only suspected were present. The magic carpet carried Walinda through the gatehouse. Holly and the marilith entered beside her. All three moved toward the bard.

The bar-lgura are entering the courtyard!

"It's all right," the bard said with a calm, reassuring tone. "They are our allies."

The yugoloth grabbed at Joel's robe and shook him. Allies do not enter with their weapons drawn!

The marilith's tail whipped around the yugoloth, and she yanked the struggling creature toward her. She lay all six hands on the creature's body and hissed.

Joel's mind reeled with the yugoloth's telepathic scream as the marilith's touch magically bruised and burned the creature's body.

"Leave him be!" the bard shouted at the snake-woman.

The yugoloth vanished.

"What did you do to him?" Joel demanded. He fled from my attack with his magic, the marilith answered telepathically.

Walinda leaned forward on the magic carpet. "Is that you, Poppin?" she asked with astonishment.

"Of course it's Joel," Holly snapped. "He's the only person here not radiating evil."

"I am impressed, priest of Finder," the priestess said. "I had no idea you would prove such a talented saboteur. You have ensured our victory."

"And you may have just thrown it away," Joel retorted sharply. "You still have to win your way to Beshaba. We might have reached her with stealth, but now that you've attacked one of the guards, we may not be able to avoid a fight."

Even as the bard spoke, the giant yugoloths in the courtyard surged toward the intruders.

"So there will be a fight," Walinda said. "That is what we have armies for."

The yugoloths stopped about a hundred feet away from the wall, and it soon became clear that they were blocked by invisible bar-lgura. The larger yugoloths apparently had no trouble seeing the shorter apelike tanar'ri, invisible or not, and engaged them in combat. As the bar-lgura began to fight back, they broke the spell of invisibility that surrounded them. Then Joel was able to see what had so alarmed the yugoloth who'd tried to warn him. Hordes of tanar'ri surrounded Walinda.

The marilith raised a horn to her lips and sounded a call to battle. Moments later the minotaurlike bulezau, in all their horrifying visibility, began streaming through the gates, flanking outward along the wall, territory which the bar-lgura had claimed for them. Several of the bulezau carried magic killers. As the iron latticework spheres passed near the invisible bar-lgura, they became visible again.

Joel looked toward the temple, but so far there was no sign that the priests of Xvim had chosen to leave their refuge to investigate either the explosion or the sounds of battle that they surely must have heard.

"Beshaba is on the first floor of that tower," Joel told the others. "If we hurry, we might still make it to the roof and down the stairs before it occurs to the yugoloths to block our access to your goddess."

Suddenly a shower of spears hailed down upon them from the bastion wall. Several struck the bulezau and the bar-lgura near the wall. One spear bounced off Holly's shoulder plate. Another struck Joel in the leg, just above his knee.

The bard cried out and fell forward.

"Get him on the carpet," Walinda ordered.

Invisible bar-lgura hands lifted the bard into the air and laid him on the magic carpet beside the evil priestess.

Joel ignored the fiery pain and called out to Holly to get on the carpet, too.

At that moment, a column of fire shot down from the sky and struck the paladin.

"Carpet, up fifty feet," Walinda commanded.

"No!" Joel shouted as the carpet began rising above the battle, leaving Holly on the ground. "Carpet, go down," he ordered.

"Silence him!" Walinda snapped.

Large, hairy arms belonging to an invisible bar-lgura grabbed the bard from behind and covered his mouth. As Joel struggled, the bar-lgura's invisibility dispelled, but the bard was unable to break from the apelike fiend's grasp.

"Carpet, go up another fifty feet," Walinda ordered. "Don't be foolish, Poppin," she said to Joel. "The paladin's holiness makes her a natural target. We cannot afford to keep her beside us."

Then Joel spotted Jas swooping down toward Holly, and he ceased his struggles. He turned to glare at the priestess as she directed the flying carpet up to the roof of the tower.

The marilith and her two hezrou lieutenants had used their power to teleport to the roof. By the time Joel and Walinda arrived, they already stood beside the parapet surrounding the roof. The toadlike hezrou were sniffing at the air as the snake-woman looked with a critical eye at the ground far below. Walinda settled the carpet just behind where the marilith stood. At a signal from the priestess, the bar-lgura released Joel. The apelike tanar'ri rolled off the carpet and began sniffing the air as well.

Walinda pulled the spear from Joel's leg, laid her hands on the bard's wound, and began a healing chant. Unlike the warmth of Holly's healing touch, Walinda's spell sent icy fire shooting through Joel's flesh. It stanched the blood and eased the pain, but it left the bard shivering and feeling numb with cold.

The priestess and the bard stood and joined the marilith at the parapet. Joel searched without success for any sign of Jas and Holly, although he did spot one of the giant frog hydroloths teleporting into the air and gliding down toward the bulezau who held the gate.

The marilith pointed toward several yugoloths who were massing at the front door of the tower nearly a hundred feet below. The yugoloths were pointing upward. They had spotted the carpet and were undoubtedly debating whether or not they should enter the tower from below to keep the adventurers from reaching the prisoner inside.

The marilith hissed and spat. A great, billowing yellowish green cloud appeared just beneath the top of the tower, blocking their view of the ground below. From the stench, Joel realized the vapor must be poisonous. The cloud slid down along the wall of the tower like a slithering creature. It sank to the ground, covering the hordes of yugoloths at the tower's front door.

Suddenly the bar-lgura standing beside them gave a horrible cry and fell to the ground. Four spears were buried in the creature's back.

Walinda, Joel, and the marilith spun about. One small lobsterlike yugoloth and six giant cricket companions stood on the roof between them and the trapdoor leading into the tower. More yugoloths of varying sizes quickly joined them.

The marilith drew out six ornate swords and engaged in battle with the front line of yugoloths, her tail lashing at those her arms couldn't reach. The hezrou, armed with spears, took up the fight on their mistress's flanks.

Jas landed on the roof, carrying Holly. The paladin's armor was scorched, and there was a coating of ash on her skin and hair. Despite the column of flame that had struck her, she was not only conscious but able to stand, much to Joel's relief.

"Are you all right?" the bard asked.

"Just fine," Holly growled through clenched teeth. She drew her sword and proceeded to engage the yugoloths in combat.

Then the bard remembered that Holly, too, had a ring of fire resistance.

Jas drew her weapon and took up a stance next to Holly.

The marilith struck at a yugoloth, and the giant cricket creature disappeared. At almost the same instant, Holly hit one of the giant cricket fiends, and it, too, vanished. Both had been illusions. The marilith and the hezrou struck two more yugoloths, but these yugoloths were real and did not disappear.

"They've mirror-imaged themselves," Walinda noted with annoyance. "They can continue to do so over and over again."

"And in the meantime, more can teleport up here," Joel pointed out. "But remember, you didn't mind a fight, as long as it was between your pawns and Xvim's pawns," he accused the priestess.

Walinda smiled coldly. "This is a minor problem, Pop-pin," she said. "Carpet, up twelve feet," she said.

Joel rolled from the carpet before the priestess was able to drag him away from his friends a second time.

Walinda hovered over the combat and called out," Yugoloths, hear me!" The priestess's voice was deep and booming. "I will offer one hundred gold pieces to each warrior who serves me for the next hour."

All the yugoloths looked up at the priestess. The yugoloths in the front line stepped away from Holly, Jas, and the marilith.

One of the shorter yugoloths stepped forward and looked up at Walinda. The creature must have addressed the priestess telepathically, for Walinda nodded and said, "Done."

With a gesture from the priestess, a brass chest appeared at the small yugoloth's feet. The yugoloth opened the chest. It was filled to the brim with gold coins. "You will allow us to enter the tower, then you will guard the door behind us and keep any others from following us for one hour," Walinda said.

The yugoloth drew back from the trapdoor.

"Go," Walinda ordered Joel, Jas, and Holly.

The paladin and the winged woman hurried to the trapdoor and rushed down the stairs, but Joel sat down on the magic carpet. He was unwilling to leave it behind.

"The stairway is wide enough to fly down," he told the priestess.

"Is your leg still aching, Poppin?" the priestess asked in mock sympathy.

"Of course it's still aching. You're a lousy healer," Joel retorted.

Walinda smiled tightly and knelt down beside the bard. Then she gave orders for the carpet to rise a foot and glide forward.

Stentka Taran and the hezrou followed behind them. Joel pulled out the finder's stone to light the way as Walinda maneuvered the carpet expertly down the stairs.

As they soared down the vast staircase, the magic that gave Joel the form of a priest of Xvim faded, having reached the limit of the spell's power. Walinda made no comment when the bard changed appearance. She seemed to be lost in thought, occasionally glancing back at Stentka Taran.

The bard sat very still, trying to compose himself. He was still furious with Walinda for abandoning Holly, but he knew he couldn't allow that emotion to color his dealings with Beshaba. Finder had told him to bring the goddess to the spire, and Joel was determined not to disappoint his god.

The throne room was just as Joel had left it. Walinda landed the carpet on the dais beside Beshaba's unconscious figure. The priestess bowed her head before her goddess and held her hands before her. She appeared to be praying silently. Joel rose to his feet and backed away.

"Is that you Marin?" Ratagar called from his cage. "You've shed your scales, but I recognized the red hair. I knew you weren't a tiefling. I can't believe you came back. Are you nuts, kid?" he asked Joel.

The bard didn't reply. He was looking around anxiously for his friends.

He spied Holly standing at the base of the dais. The paladin was cradling her head in her hands. Either she was shocked by the death and destruction all around or overwhelmed by the tremendous sense of evil that pervaded the throne room. Probably both, Joel thought.

"You certainly have an eclectic group of friends, Marin the Red," the imp noted. "Paladins, mariliths, evil priestesses, pretty girls with wings…"

Jas landed just behind the bard.

"Where's Emilo?" Joel whispered.

"He's beside Holly," Jas said.

Then Joel spotted the kender, who was standing on the third step of the dais. Emilo reached out and stroked the paladin's hair in a comforting gesture. Even more odd than the kender's gift of being overlooked was the way Jas could always spot him. The bard shook his head, unable to understand it.

"You really have no idea of the evil you're perpetrating," Ratagar said to Joel.

Stentka Taran slithered up beside the paladin. Before Joel realized what was happening, the marilith wrapped two of her arms about Holly's waist, and with two more hands grabbed the paladin's wrists. With her third set of hands, the snake-woman manacled Holly's arms together. The marilith tossed the chain attached to the manacles to one of her hezrou lieutenants.

"No!" Joel shouted, leaping toward the stairs, but the marilith lunged forward and, with a single deft action, tossed him down the stairs. He landed on his uninjured leg, twisting his knee.

"Walinda!" Jas shrieked as she took to the air. "Stop that snake creature, you bitch!"

Walinda looked up from her prayer, slightly annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Poppin," she said, "but I was forced to pay the yugoloths on the roof with all the gold that was meant for Stentka Taran. She has agreed instead to take the paladin in payment."

"Ooooo! Betrayal," Ratagar squealed with glee. "What fun!" Unable to stand, his knee burning with pain, Joel was forced to plead from the floor. "Walinda, think what you're doing." He struggled for some argument, no matter how useless, knowing only that he had to stall for time. Still unnoticed by all the evil beings, Emilo was even now picking the locks on the manacles that bound Holly's wrists.

"Lathander offered his paladin to help your goddess," Joel said fervently. "If you let this creature take Holly, you will be offending the Morninglord, and he is far more powerful than Beshaba."

"For all his goodness, Lathander has no interest in helping Beshaba," Walinda countered. "He only wants to know what she knows so that he might help Tymora. I care not whether he is offended."

Emilo finally finished picking the locks on the manacles. Holly jerked the restraints from her wrist and let them fall to the floor with a clatter. She leaped backward and drew her sword, leveling it at the belly of the hezrou.

"Hey," the imp cried out in surprise. "How'd she do that?"

Jas landed beside Holly, her sword also drawn. "You won't take her without bloodshed," the winged woman snarled at the marilith.

Stentka Taran looked toward Walinda.

The priestess sighed. "You will have to charge me interest on what I owe you," she said to the marilith. "We will settle accounts in a few days time."

The marilith nodded. She slithered away, back up the stairs. The hezrou hopped behind her.

Walinda glared at Holly. "You have cost me dearly," she said accusingly.

Holly laughed, completely astounded by the evil priestess's selfishness.

That was an interesting trick. How did you do it?" she said, repeating the imp's question.

"Walinda, don't you think we should be getting on with reviving your goddess?" Joel asked, trying to keep the priestess from guessing at the presence of the unnoticed kender.

Walinda nodded. "Yes, of course," she agreed.

The priestess approached her goddess slowly and reverently. With an atypical tenderness, she reached out for one of the giant-sized hands, clasping it in both of her own. In a soft voice, she began to chant words Joel did not understand, but Walinda spoke them with joy in her face. She was smiling, and there were tears in her eyes.

Slowly the dark aura about Walinda faded away from her body as an even darker nimbus grew about Beshaba. Walinda began to look pale and haggard. She was giving more back to her goddess than the power her goddess had given her. Or perhaps her goddess was simply taking more.

"Nooo!" Ratagar shrieked. "You've got to stop her, Marin! This is a bad thing. Trust me."

Joel could not even stand up at the moment, let alone stop Walinda from restoring her goddess to power. Walinda's shiny black hair began to turn gray, then colorless. Lines etched themselves in her face, and her back grew stooped. Joel watched in horror as the goddess began to stir at the expense of her priestess's vitality.

Holly and Jas crept to the bard's side. Holly began a soft prayer to heal the bard's injured knee. Joel sighed with relief at the warm feeling that spread through him as Lathander's gift of healing passed through his paladin's hands. Jas and Holly helped the bard to stand.

Suddenly the goddess sat bolt upright, blinking in the light of the finder's stone. The whites of her eyes were shot with red, giving her a look of madness. The dark aura that surrounded her being seemed to spread throughout the whole room. The light from the finder's stone dimmed to the brightness of a single candle. Looking upon her, Joel felt an unknown fear grip at his heart.

Beshaba pulled her hand away from her priestess, and Walinda collapsed to her knees at her goddess's feet beside the imp's cage.

Seizing the moment, Ratagar lashed out with his tail, burying its tip in Walinda's back. "That's for the death of my Noxxe!" the imp screamed. "Your priestess for my priest, Beshaba!"

Walinda's body began to twitch with a violent seizure, poisoned by the imp's stinging tail. She looked up at her goddess, her mouth opening and closing, but no words came forth.

Beshaba slid her right hand through the bars of the cage, and with a single squeeze, crushed the life out of Ratagar Perivalious. She squeezed again until Ratagar was no more than a pulpy mass of red flesh and green ichor, then dropped his body on the floor of the cage.

The goddess turned her attention to Walinda. Without any trace of emotion, she watched as her priestess's body ceased twitching and lay still.

Holly ran toward the dais, clearly intent on trying to aid the very same woman who moments ago nearly made her slave to a fiend of the Abyss.

"Leave her be, paladin," Beshaba commanded. Her voice was soft and sweet, like a young girl's, but it echoed throughout the whole chamber. "She is among the honored dead now. I do not want her body defiled with Lathander's stench."

Holly pulled back, insulted and aghast, but she had the sense to choose her words carefully. "Is there nothing you can do for her, lady?" she asked the goddess.

"She has no need of aid. She had done her duty here. Her spirit is already returned to the Blood Tor, where it will serve as my petitioner."

Holly lowered her eyes to the ground so that her shock would not be so obvious. She was appalled that Beshaba did not value Walinda's life, but only the service the priestess rendered her goddess.

"So. The servants of Lathander, Finder, and my hateful sister Tymora have all come to my aid. How amusing," Beshaba said.

Joel bowed low, with a flourish of his hand, making sure his greeting was every bit as graceful as the one he'd first given Tymora. Beshaba was renowned for the jealousy she bore her sister. "Greetings, fair Beshaba," the bard said as he rose. "My lord, Finder, bids me to escort you to the spire, should you agree."

"The spire… aye," Beshaba replied. "There I might find sanctuary from this sickness. Then I can better plan how to avenge myself on the upstart Xvim."

"Forgive my impertinence, Lady Beshaba," Joel begged, "but how is it you are so certain Iyachtu Xvim is behind your sickness?"

"I read Xvim's name in the minds of the hydroloths who attacked me in my realm. He sent the creatures to goad me into using my power, and then I discovered I could not control the power. This is his doing, I am sure. No doubt Lathander can discover exactly what Xvim is up to. Come, we will leave this place finally. Bring your flying carpet. You may need it."

Beshaba rose with a goddess's grace and flowed down the stairs of the dais like a ghost. She drifted over the bodies of the dead Xvimlar she'd slain days earlier.

Joel, Holly, Jas, and Emilo hurried up the dais, slipping past the corpses of Walinda and Ratagar, and sat down on the carpet.

"Airheart," Joel whispered, giving the carpet a pat. "Carpet, rise and go forward slowly."

The carpet glided along behind the Maid of Misfortune. Beshaba stopped at the door to the tower. Joel halted the carpet beside her.

"Leave the bastion," Beshaba ordered, "and await me in the canyon where my proxy gathered her army. I will join you once I have taken care of some unfinished business." Beshaba knocked softly three times on the door. The bar holding the door fell away, the door's hinges snapped, and the door collapsed outward. The ground began to tremble. Beshaba stepped out of the tower, and Joel ordered the carpet to follow on her heels. He was eager to be out in the open before the quake grew stronger.

Yugoloth corpses, felled by the marilith's deadly cloud, littered the stairs to the tower door. In the courtyard, yugoloths and tanar'ri continued to fight, even though the battle no longer served any purpose beyond the fiends' desire to shed blood.

Joel ordered the carpet to rise far above the combat and soar toward the only exit from the fortress. Joel slowed as they approached the gate. The gatehouse was choked with bar-lgura keeping the passage open for their fellow tanar'ri.

Fortunately the apelike creatures seemed to recognize the adventurers as allies. They did not attack, but neither did they clear the way for the carpet to exit through the gate.

Holly addressed the tanar'ri. She had to shout to be heard over the clashing and screaming of the battle. "The battle is over," the paladin announced. "Walinda is dead. Her goddess follows us. You have no reason to stay."

The bar-lgura looked at the paladin uncertainly. Holly raised her hands to her forehead, agonized by the barrage of telepathic queries the tanar'ri were sending.

"It is true," Holly insisted. "I do not lie. Tell your fellows to retreat while they still can."

The bar-lgura began backing out of the fortress. Joel ordered the carpet through the gatehouse.

Once free of the confines of the fortress, the bar-lgura began vanishing in beams of shimmering air, presumably teleporting back to their homes in the Abyss. Joel gave a last look up at the gatehouse, but he saw no sign of petitioner Perr. He wondered if the former priest of Xvim had any clue that he had been deceived. The bard ordered the carpet to rise twenty feet and sent it back toward the canyon as Beshaba had ordered.

Holly looked back at the fortress, shaking her head.

"What's wrong?" Emilo asked.

"The bar-lgura will flee," the paladin explained, "but they said the bulezau have gone into a battle frenzy and will never leave."

"Their loss," Jas said.

"Evil's gain," Holly argued. "No good is served by their deaths."

"Even dead, Walinda manages to ruin the lives of others," Jas commented. "And she never actually had to pay for any of it."

"She paid with her life," Holly said, aghast.

"That's not payment enough," Jas growled. "Now she's a petitioner, still serving an evil power."

"But that is all she will ever be now," Holly said, "until she merges with Beshaba. It is only as living beings that we can choose the course our spirits will take. Now Walinda can never be redeemed by the light. She will never know joy or love or mercy."

"Walinda could have lived a thousand years, and she would never have changed," Jas declared. "She was evil incarnate."

They had just reached the ridge overlooking the Bastion of Hate when they heard another rumble.

"Beshaba's bad luck seeping out?" Holly asked.

"Pouring out is more like it," Joel replied. "She must be casting some very powerful magic."

Floating above the ground, the four carpet riders didn't feel the vibrations of the earthquake, but they still weren't safe from its violence. Geysers of ash and molten lava began to shoot up around them, and rocks from the slope above rained down on them. Joel ordered the carpet to back away from the mount a hundred feet.

Hovering near the darkness of the void, the adventurers could hardly even feel the heat, but they had an excellent view of the havoc wrought on the Gehennan mount.

The realm of Iyachtu Xvim trembled like jelly, yet neither the walls, nor the temple, nor the tower collapsed. Xvim had built them well. Finally Mount Chamada itself gave way. The great, wide ledge beneath the Bastion of Hate broke from the side of the mount and began to slide down the slope. It moved slowly at first, but soon picked up a terrifying speed, carrying with it Xvim's fortress.

The noise was deafening, a continuing roar that battered their ears and left an ache in their foreheads. Then the air grew foul with dust, ash, smoke, and foul vapors. The four adventurers lay on the carpet with their arms over their heads and their faces, choking and gasping.

Suddenly there was silence all about them, and bright light and clean, fresh air. They raised their heads and looked about. The carpet sat in a field of thistle and burdock. Overhead, the cloudless sky was bright blue, though there was no sun to be seen.

"I don't think we're in Gehenna anymore," Holly said after a long pause.

"But where are we?" Jas asked.

"Who cares?" the paladin said with a laugh. "Breathe that air. Isn't it wonderful?"

Indeed, the air was not only fresh, but it also seemed to make Joel's skin tingle. The feeling was a familiar one to the bard. "We're in the Outlands," he said. "How'd we get here?" Jas asked.

"I brought you," a soft, girlish voice said from somewhere overhead.

The adventurers looked up.

Beshaba hovered above them, her feet grazing the thistle flowers. She was no longer a giant, but the size of a normal human woman. "Bringing you here has cost me more power than I thought it would. In payment, you will serve as my bodyguards on our journey to the spire."

Eager to keep the goddess on the path Finder had requested, Joel bowed his head and said, "We would be honored, Lady Beshaba."

Beshaba looked at Holly and Jas. "Does he speak for you as well?" she asked.

"Joel is our friend," Holly said. "We trust him to speak for us."

"Your friend? Well, that is a good thing," Beshaba said. "You will protect me the better for it. For if my person comes to any harm, I will hold your friend Joel responsible and he will forfeit his life."