The Gossamer Plain (21 page)

Myshik sighed and cleaned the blade of his axe on the dead guide’s tunic. “Sorry, dog-man,” he said softly as he stepped away. “Nothing personal. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He moved to the door and paused, looking back. “But then again, I never liked being called ‘drako.’ ” With that, the half-dragon slipped outside.

The servant had returned and waited patiently, the arch clutched in her hands. Myshik listened for a moment to see if her subterfuge had roused the cambion. He heard no cries of anger, no alarms. He feared that Vhok might have warded his room with magic to protect himself from just such an act.

Foolish, trusting fiend, Myshik thought as he took the arch from the servant. My father and uncle do not enter into pacts with the likes of you.

The half-dragon proceeded into the dining room. As he expected, it was empty and dark. He studied the large table that dominated the chamber, wondering if his axe held within it the power to destroy the thing.

Only one means to find out, he decided.

Hoisting the axe, he raised it as high as his arms would stretch and called on all his strength. With one powerful downstroke, Myshik slashed the head of the axe against the surface of the magical table. With an ear-splitting crack, the thunderous weapon sundered the table, splitting it into two separate halves.

Myshik smiled in satisfaction. That ought to do it, he thought. Time to go.

The hobgoblin turned and hurried from the room. He strode toward the entrance of the palace. He approached the door, sealed shut with stone, and recalled how Vhok had opened it the previous morning. Myshik had made certain to pay careful attention so he would be able to mimic Vhok’s gestures precisely. He blew through the arch and watched as the shimmering curtain appeared.

Behind him, the half-hobgoblin heard a muffled shout. The glow of a lantern brightened the hallway above and behind him, from the direction of Vhok’s chambers.

“Hope you enjoy your new home, demon,” Myshik muttered softly. He stepped through the portal. “You’re going to be here a while,” he added as he stepped into the heat and smoke of the tortured Plane of Fire. “In fact,” he finished, “I sincerely hope forever.” The half-dragon then held his lips to the arch and blew once more.

The magical doorway winked out.

Damn that traitorous, blue-skinned bastard!” Kaanyr Vhok roared, holding a fragment of splintered wood. He stared at the ruined dining table. He wanted to wrap his fingers around the half-hobgoblin’s neck, choke the life from him. He could feel his own neck bulging from anger. “Damn him and his cursed axe, too! Damn his whole clan to the foulest pits of the Nine Hells!” Vhok screamed, flinging the shard across the chamber. He turned and stalked out of the room.

Zasian, who had just neared the dining chamber, had to press himself against the wall of the corridor to avoid being overrun by the stalking cambion. As Vhok stormed past, the priest said, “Your fears were correct. Kurkle is dead.”

Vhok did not acknowledge his companion’s words. He already knew the ivory sculpture that would permit them egress from the mansion was gone. It only made sense that Myshik would have killed their guide and destroyed their map.

Leave no stone unturned in the act of betrayal, Vhok thought bitterly.

After the cambion passed, Zasian spun and followed, a frown on his face. “I am not sure how we can extricate ourselves

from this space,” he said. “Removing the focus from within the extradimensional pocket precludes us from—”

“I swear,” Vhok interrupted, “when we do get out of here, I’m going to roast that hobgoblin on an open spit!” He reached the front door, nothing more than a stone wall without the arch. He pounded his fist against it. “And I’m going to go to that mountain, and I’m going to gut his father and his uncle,” he added, beginning to pace. “Damn them,” he spat again.

“Calm yourself, Vhok,” Zasian said, taking a seat on the bottom step of one of the twin staircases. “One thing at a time. First, let’s figure out a means of extricating ourselves, then we can worry about revenge.”

“Blast!” the half-fiend snarled. “I trusted him. I trusted all of them! What kind of a fool am I?” His anger was so acute that he could see spots swimming in his vision. All he wanted was one chance to confront the draconic hobgoblin. One chance to impart due payment.

“Indeed,” Zasian said. “But circumstances were chaotic and dire. The dwarves pressed the fight, and we had only moments to choose. And your sorceress unexpectedly succumbed to injuries beyond our ken to address. A plan is only good until the first bow shot is fired, then battle is a series of adjustments. You know full well that you cannot make any progress in any endeavor without adapting, and that you must trust that some things, or someone, will not behave as you anticipate.”

“To the Nine Hells with that” Vhok spat, dismissing the priest’s words with a wave of his hand. “Never again,” he vowed. “No one ever gets Kaanyr Vhok backed into a corner this way again. I trust no one but myself.”

“Including me?” Zasian asked quietly. “Are you going to condemn me now solely on the virtue that I am not you?”

Vhok stopped pacing and stared at the priest. “Have you

given me cause not to?” he asked, giving the human a baleful stare. “Or are you in league with Myshik? Clan Morueme?”

“Yes, of course I am,” Zasian responded, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “I plotted to trap myself within this posh prison from the very start!”

Vhok smirked. “More clever ways of deflecting blame have been utilized before,” he commented. He folded his arms across his chest and continued to stare at his counterpart. “What better way to throw me off than to appear as a fellow victim?”

Zasian threw his hands in the air. “Then your cause is already lost,” he said, rising to his feet. “If you believe that, then you know that I have lied about everything, even the prediction of Aliisza’s capture and confinement within the House of the Triad. And thus,” he added, turning and ascending the stairs, “this entire journey has been one elaborate charade, a worthless endeavor that I put myself through for no good reason, when I could have easily sent you through the Everfire and left you helpless on this plane, with no guide and no hope of returning, and not bothered with all the rest of the hardship!”

Vhok watched as the priest reached the top of the staircase. His anger, though not abated, began to crystallize and focus on the true source of his woes. He knew it would have been much easier for Zasian to betray him earlier in the game, if that had been the Banite’s intention from the start.

“You’re right,” he said, spreading his arms in acceptance. “I cannot explain why you would have willingly suffered through all this if you had intended to send me here and abandon me.”

“I’m glad you’re finally seeing sense,” Zasian replied, leaning against the banister at the top of the stairs.

“Indeed,” Vhok said. “But also understand the larger implications of this betrayal to me. Clan Morueme knows I

am here, so they also know my army is leaderless, vulnerable. I am now forced to consider which course of action is more urgent—continuing with my quest, or returning to Sundabar to stave off a powerful enemy. An enemy, I should add,” he said, giving Zasian a meaningful stare, “that might consider Sundabar itself ripe for the picking.”

Zasian nodded. “The thought had crossed my mind. But I think your situation in the Silver Marches is secure for the moment. It will take the dragons tendays to organize and muster their forces for such an attack.”

“There are other ways they could wreak havoc,” Vhok countered.

Zasian shrugged. “Even if they attempted to take control of your Scourged Legion by subterfuge, it would require significant time to draw the whole army together and do anything with it.” He shook his head. “No, I think we should keep moving forward. Success in this gives you the tools to thwart them more handily.”

Vhok knew the priest was correct. He still worried about being away while the cursed dragons maneuvered.

“And Aliisza is waiting for you,” the priest added. “If we don’t press on, she’s trapped there for good.”

Vhok drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Of course,” he said. “I knew from the start that nothing else would matter if I fell short in this quest. That still holds true. Reach the Lifespring, gain its power, and all the rest will fall into place.”

“Very good,” Zasian said. “Then let’s work on getting ourselves out of here.” He turned away from the railing and strode toward his room.

“Where are you going?” Vhok asked.

“To pray,” the priest replied. “I think divine intervention will be necessary to get us out of here.”

And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Vhok

silently asked. He looked at the sealed doorway and pounded it once more with his fist.

<<<

Aliisza could not bring herself to look down into the square below. She knew the hustle and bustle of the Sundabarians was not entirely real, but a conjuration from her own mind. Indeed, every aspect of the world around her—from the cobbled streets to the azure sky—was an illusion, part of the game her mind was playing with her. Such was the magical power of the strange prison in which the angels had incarcerated her.

The dead soldier she had witnessed, the plight of his orphaned family weighing heavily on his restless soul—this had been only the first of many tragic tales the alu had witnessed. There had been others, so many others. She had turned away from each of them, dismissing them all.

Theirs are their own burdens to bear, she had thought. You make of the world what you wish, and take what you can. If you are not strong enough to survive its hardships, then you do not deserve its rewards.

Eventually, it had all grown to be too much, and she had been forced to escape it. She had soared into the sky, had found a quiet spot atop the Master’s Hall where she could observe from afar.

Only to rest, she had told herself. And see if this silly trick of the mind will tire itself and vanish.

Yet even from her high perch, Aliisza could somehow sense the haunted lives below, each one a tale of sorrow and misfortune wrought by her own destructive pleasures. She could feel where each ghost hovered, experience its own despair and anguish. Because they were, in part, manifestations of her mind, she found herself psychically linked to them.

Stop it! Aliisza screamed into the recesses of her consciousness. I don’t want to see this anymore!

And just like that, it was gone. Sundabar vanished, replaced by the celestial courtyard. The folk of the city evaporated, and the alu found herself utterly alone once more.

It was nighttime again. The fragrance of the myriad blooms within the garden wafted past her on gentle breezes. Those same zephyrs stirred the wind chimes hanging in the silver-leaved trees, setting them to faint and gentle songs. The warmth of the sun faded from Aliisza’s skin, replaced by the coolness of a hint of dew in the air.

The alu snorted. This isn’t real either, she thought.

She understood that she could change her surroundings at will. She had learned that early on. But no matter how hard she tried, no matter what place she conjured from her past, the illusion left her solitary, bereft of companionship.

She had started with Hellgate Keep. Though she recalled every wall, every corridor within that blasted prison with perfect clarity, she could induce no other fiends to fill it. The place simply echoed with her own lonely footsteps. She did not really want to be surrounded by a horde of slavering, power-hungry demons, but somehow, the miles of passages and scores of chambers within its confines didn’t seem right without them.

Then she had attempted to bring about a number of locales she associated with Kaanyr. She tried to conjure their sumptuous chambers in the halls of Ammarindar, the interior of the war tent they had used during the siege of Menzoberranzan, even just a simple cloistered room with her lover inside. Each time, the alu was able to recreate the environs perfectly. But no sign of the cambion ever appeared.

If she wanted people, she had to settle for the ones she had hurt.

Emotional blackmail, she often thought in disgust. That’s all this is. Well, Tauran, you can’t make me feel sorry for pitiful wretches just by denying me any other contact!

Aliisza sighed and looked around the garden. She found herself wishing more and more frequently that the deva would return to her sanctuary. Despite all his faults and shortcomings, she craved him. In her illusory worlds, she didn’t even enjoy the laxity of interaction. At least with Tauran, there had been genuine conversation.

The alu moved toward the pool. The angel had shown the half-fiend herself there, her physical body. She longed to see it again, to see the vessel that carried her child within. She longed to see the child itself.

The surface of the water showed only the night sky. The moon rippled within it, but nothing more.

No, Aliisza resolved. I will not sit here and ask. That’s what they want. I can stand the solitude. It’s just a matter of gutting it out. I won’t give in to them. I won’t!

With that, the alu turned and strode purposefully toward her quiet room. She wasn’t yet ready to face the grieving martyrs again, but a little rest, a little unconscious oblivion, would do her wonders.

Tomorrow, she vowed. Tomorrow, I will laugh in their faces. Weaklings.

“You know as well as I,” Zasian said, “that divination magic is notorious for unreliability. We are fortunate that the augury was as clear as it was, frankly.”

Vhok examined the scroll in his hand, doubtful. “I don’t like this,” he said. “We have no idea what will happen. You said yourself that the magic wasn’t explicit enough to guarantee no mishaps.”

Zasian shrugged. “Short of calling on an ally of Bane himself for aid, we have no alternative. I could summon a creature loyal to the Black Lord, one who could enter this place and assist us, but the price for such service would be steep. The risk might be as great or greater than this,” he said as he gestured at the crumpled parchment in the cambion’s hands. “Regardless, it will cost us valuable time. Do you wish to wait a full day and call on a planar ally to assist us?”