15 – Master of the Maze

"Step quiet, child, in the lair of the lich! If he spots you, he will shift the very ground beneath your feet!" –Iana Robinsong, The Lair of the Lich

Lavok's reaction was instant and furious. His hand shot forward and a ray of darkness leapt from his fingertip, aimed right at Imoen.

Her levitation spell activated before it struck her (whew!) and she shot up for the ceiling. The ray streaked by beneath her dangling feet, then it started rising too, chasing after, popping and hissing like something alive.

She spread her feet to avoid it. Then stretched her legs. Then she was doing a full split while she willed herself up-up-up as fast as the magic could carry her! Her heart went into her throat, and she could just about feel the crinkly-awful-sizzleyness of the beam right there under her crotch while she desperately tried to fly away. (That was not a good place to get zapped by a death ray! No way! Nosir!)

The ray lost cohesion, then puttered out. (Whoo-hoo!)

Imoen's shoulders brushed the ceiling and she flattened against it. Hopefully that'd make her a smaller target.

Lavok seemed distracted by other things now, anyways. His attention had shifted to Valygar, who was charging for the stairs as fast as he could, his sword drawn in one hand and his scabbard clutched like a club in the other, shouting the wizard's name all the while.

Taking advantage of her current lack of gravity, Imoen flipped over and planted her feet against the ceiling, a little spider climbing magic affixing her there. Next, she loaded an arrow, drew back hard, and took a no-hesitation shot at the evil wizard while he wasn't looking. Some sort of dark mist seemed to sense the arrow coming, rising up like a protective shroud, and when the broadhead hit it just bounced off and clattered away. Figured. Things just couldn't be that easy.

Valygar was flying up the steps now, but the dark mist swept out to meet him, blocking the path and then breaking off into human-shaped bits. Undead shadows, by the look of 'em. They sprang forward soon as they materialized, clawing and forcing the big guy to slide around and perform some defensive swings.

Meantime, Lavok shouted out a word of power that rang off the walls, calling down a blast of ruby light. It struck Valygar full on, and the poor sod staggered back, giving the shadow-creatures room to swarm. One alighted on his back. Another clung to his arm. Claws snatched, and dug in deep.

Those shadows were also giving Imoen ample targets, though, and she took full advantage. Her first shot sent a burning shaft right through one of 'em's torso, the hole sizzling and expanding out right-quick. The next fire-arrow cut through another creature's arm, at the joint, and sent the entire limb spinning off and away.

And now Minsc was rushing in to join the party, his boots eating up the distance between him and the platform. In a blink he'd reached the foot of the stair, howling like a madman and hefting up his sword. A right big, dramatic entrance. Got Lavok's full attention.

Not a good thing. The archmage unleashed his next spell, and it was aimed right at Minc! Some sort of dusty waver of necromancy, looked like, which passed across the big fellow and made him go all wobbly, every muscle and vein stretching and straining.

Imoen winced, and for about a half-of-a-quarter-of-an-instant she was genuinely worried about the big guy, but then Minsc lumbered on through and picked up speed, bounding up the steps. With a roar he swung his sword and cut one of the shadow-critters in half, the separate ends of it falling away from Valygar but leaving him unscathed. For his next trick, Minsc delivered a stab that whistled just past Valygar's cheek, skewering one of the shadows that'd been hanging off his back.

More darkness flared, up there on the crowded dais. More summoned things slithered into existence and stretched their shadow-claws, and many of these newcomers had wings and horns to boot. Shadow demons. Lavok was flooding the place with some nasty sword-and-arrow-fodder.

Imoen didn't see much choice but to shoot at 'em, though, so she plucked and loosed. Plucked and loosed. Nothing to do but make the arrows rain down and hope for the best.

A burning shaft struck one of the shadow-demon-things, and the flames just snuffed out, not making a damned bit of difference. Her next shot hit the same creature, but still didn't faze it.

And all the while Lavok was standing back behind his shield of shadow-mist, impervious and smug. Bit of an impasse, here. And his next spell might-

There was a blast of force from behind Lavok, making his shield billow and flutter like it'd been struck by a heavy gust. A moment of tension and stretching followed, then the mantle just sort of puffed out and broke into tatters. Lavok's head started turning, the look on his face all disdainful.

Were his protections gone now? One way to find out!

Imoen aimed and shot straight at the wizard's chest, and the arrow struck true and bit deep, knocking him back. Hells yeah! She snatched at her quiver and drew another arrow.

Lavok's injury would have dropped a normal man, but he obviously wasn't one of those. Looked more like he was pissed than anything else. He aimed an open palm at Imoen, fast as a cat, and some sort of crackling darkness welled up there. A flick of his wrist sent it flying.

Imoen tossed her arrow and willed her feet to unstick from the ceiling. She dropped like a rock and the bolt of blackness zipped in just above. There was an explosive whoosh, and something dust-dry and cold tickled her toes, forcing her to tuck in and make herself a ball.

The floor rushed up, the world spun, then lurched, wobbled, and then she was right-side-up and suspended in the air, thanks to her levitation magic. Her spell had kept her from cracking her skull on the floor. Couldn't stop the blood from pounding in her temples, though. Total head-rush!

Black sparks rained down. One of 'em landed on her shoulder and started smoldering, and when she tried to pat it out it stung her hand something fierce. Was a cold sort of a burn.

A flash or red light up on the dais caught Imoen's eye. Lavok was stumbling forward now, smoke wafting up from his back, and behind him stood a cloaked figure, her hand outstretched and glowing. Viconia. So nice of her to join this party too!

Lavok had taken an arrow to chest and a full harm-touch to the back, but he still managed to stand up straight, stretching out his arms to deliver yet another spell. Something between an incantation and a furious roar left his lips as crackling blackfire gathered on his palms, then it lit up the entire dais in a starburst.

The blast struck everything nearby. Minsc and the shadow fiend he'd been wrestling with were both thrown down the steps, bouncing and sending up smoke. Viconioa went flying backwards into a control panel. What was left of the summoned shadows were incinerated.

The only one who didn't get knocked over or burnt was Valygar. He faced the blast head-on, calm as you please, and it just seemed to wash over him. When it had passed he stomped forward, his sword turned over to a stabbing position, then he topped the dais and lunged across in one smooth motion. His blade went clean through Lavok's chest.

For a moment they both just stood there, shoulders about touching. Bloody steel poked out of Lavok's back, his hands still raised and trembling, mouth moving like he was trying to shout out one last spell…

…but he didn't. Instead he slumped down and his palms dropped and all the fight deflated out of him and that seemed to be that. Whew!

Lavok's knees hit the floor, then his head tipped back, mouth open wide as he shuddered. Death throes, looked like. Then it looked like a bit more than that. Intense convulsions. His robes shook. Amber light flashed bright in his eyes, and a shimmer ran across the whole of him, jaw slack almost to the point of being unhinged.

Then his head went back and he disgorged a stream of crackling darkness.

Valygar stumbled away, barely keeping upright as the cloud whipped past him and spiraled up to the ceiling. It flattened and congealed up there, taking on a human shape: a wraith; with burning, amber eyes. Down below, Lavok's former body went limp, all the glow and luster gone from him.

The wraith spoke. Its voice reverberated through the whole sphere. "This is not over! I have stolen a piece of Orcus —grafted it to my very spirit— and I can never die!"

There were clanging sounds all throughout the chamber. Every door unlocked and swung open at once.

"Find me out in the Abyss!" the wraith shouted. "If you wish to end this!" A hum ran through the sphere, winding down and then going silent. All the machinery had died. The lights dimmed. "I'll be out there. Out where Feenor tried to face me, and failed to break the cycle. Out where this all began."

Then the wraith's form blurred, streaking across the ceiling and then down and through an open door. Silence hung in its wake, while the lights of the glowlamps and instruments faded completely, plunging everything into darkness.

Moments later cantrip-light entered the room, bobbing above Kirian and Baeloth's heads as they moved in towards the spot where Imoen was still hovering. She noticed some coughing and movement up on the dais then, and her eyes widened when she realized that Lavok was still kneeling there. Seemed he was still alive, despite the fact that there was a sword stuck through his chest and his spirit had just made a dramatic exit.

Valygar had moved closer to the hobbled man, holding onto the sword and bending down. Some murmured words passed between them, though Imoen was too far away to pick up on what was said.

Fingering an arrow, she dropped to the floor, then started for the steps. Minsc sat near the bottom, singed a bit but seemingly alert. When Imoen got close he stood up and slipped in beside her.

It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Valygar looked almost…reverent, huddled there over the man he'd just impaled a few moments ago. He whispered something to Lavok, who croaked out some sort of response.

Once Imoen had climbed a few more steps she caught Valygar's next words clearly: "I will, grandfather," he said, gently guiding Lavok's body down so that he lay on his side. Gripping a shoulder now, he tensed, and then yanked the sword free.

There were no shudders or cries of pain. Seemed that Lavok (or…the shell that he'd been wearing) was now truly and fully dead.

When Valygar rose and turned, his face was grim. Maybe grimmer than Imoen had ever seen before, which, considering how grim he always looked, was quite the feat.

The constant thrum running through the sphere hadn't been something that Imoen had noticed. Not until it all fell silent. The place was quiet as a tomb now: the gears all stilled and the fluids stagnant in their tubes.

Dark as a tomb, too. They had to explore by cantrip-light.

All that quiet dark made this new chamber seem especially eerie. It was vast (the light barely lit a fraction of it), and dominated by deep, murky waters at the bottom. Above the pool hung a latticework of metal scaffolding and machinery, spread out around a strange device.

Golems stood at regular intervals on the outer ring, all still and lifeless. Maybe they were meant to guard the machine, when the place was powered.

Hm. 'Machine' was maybe not the best term for this thing. Sure, there were a lot of gizmos, doodads, antennae, and transparent tanks spread around it, but the center actually seemed to be organic. Looked like a circular mass of dead, calcified flesh; all gnarled and bumpy.

Baeloth was the first to reach it, and he crouched to examine a panel. He poked a dial, then tapped at a switch. Nothing happened.

"I pray to Shar that you understand whatever it is that you are prodding!" Viconia hissed. "If these golems come to life-"

"No need to fret," Baeloth purred back. "There appears to be no power here. It's just a lifeless lump. A disappointingly dead device." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little crystal, bringing it up to his eye. "Hm." He swiveled, examining more of the place through his strange little lens. "Well, there's a little leftover power. A faint echo…"

"This thing's supposed to be powered by…the 'heart of a greater outsider,' right?" Imoen asked.

"Oh yes! Before the last plane shift, I'll wager this thing was pulsing with power, all fueled-up with the hearts of demons!" Continuing to look through his crystal, Baeloth turned to a slanted tube and tapped it with his finger. "You'd slide the bits of minced demon-heart into this feeder, you see-"

"An evil device," Valygar muttered.

"Exceedingly evil!" Baeloth agreed. "Delightfully so! At full power, this thing would have been seething with chaos and malevolence. Enough that, when focused and amplified through these lenses, it could bend and fold the very rules of reality!" He let out a wistful sigh. "Ah, what a sight it must have been. There's but a trace of the demonic energies simmering now, only visible through this gem of seeing. Quite a gnarled and twisted thing." Turning to the party, he held out his little crystal. "Does anyone wish to look?"

"We'll take your word for it," Imoen said. "So uh…that means we need a demon's heart? And Lavok said something about going out into the Abyss, when he opened all the doors and zipped off. Sooo…that's probably the plane that we're in right now?"

"Indeed! We'd have to be on some layer of the Abyss. It's where he draws his power from."

"And the Abyss is also where demons tend to uh…live? I guess? So we should be able to…harvest what we need for the engine somewhere outside?"

"Presumably, yes."

"Maybe we can even find it right outside the door, then? We take a little hunting trip outside, beat a quick retreat soon as we're done, activate the sphere, and then we can fly ourselves home and be through with this mess?"

"If you want to be boring, I suppose we could follow that plan. (And miss out on a chance to explore this strange and twisted realm. Such a shame). Of course, we'll still need one more component to activate this sphere, if you really wish to use it like a ship."

"Oh? And what's that?"

Without warning Baeloth snatched Valygar by the wrist and yanked him forward, pressing the other man's hand against a nearby panel. The result was instantaneous: lights flared and expanded, illuminating every dial and tube and rod and strut. Glowlamps came to life. Machinery whirred and hummed.

Black mist rose up from the center of the machine, curling into shapes that resembled bones, claws, and horns. Maybe that was the 'trace of demonic energy' that Baeloth had been talking about. Certainly looked all gnarled and twisted-like. At the same time the golems also came to life, groaning as they lurched to face the intruders with fire in their eyes.

Valygar managed to rip his hand away before anything else happened, and the noises and lights all sputtered out and died. He whirled to face Baeloth, who'd taken a few steps backwards. "What was that?!" he demanded.

"Nothing harmful," Baeloth responded, both hands raised and a big old grin plastered on his face. "I was just testing a theory. It seems that you're the component that we need to make all of these delightful devices function. Once we have fuel, it will be your hands that work the dials. Must admit I'm envious. You have dominion over this most marvelous of machines! The mischief you might make with it! If you're…interested in that sort of thing."

Valygar glared at him a moment, then looked off. "You mean my blood holds dominion over it. Blood that Lavok wants for his own." He scowled. "Blood that he'll use to live out another stolen lifetime, if he can take it."

"Hm. I suppose."

"And he's waiting for me out there." Taking a deep breath, Valygar gripped the hilt of his sword. "I swore that I would end this curse on my family. It seems that-"

"Absolutely not!" Viconia snapped, hand outstretched as she advanced on Valygar. She gave Imoen a sidelong glance. "He thinks of suicide! We cannot allow it. He is needed."

"Hey now!" Imoen raised her hands. "Nobody's going to-"

"We must restrain him," Viconia insisted, pointing with her palm.

"No!" Imoen shouted, shifting to interpose herself between them. "We're going to allow him to do whatever he wants." She looked to Valygar. "It was a damned-rotten thing to chain him up from the start, just 'cause some conniving wizard insisted. We came here to rectify that."

"If he dies," Viconia growled, "we will be marooned."

"Not necessarily," Baeloth chimed in. "With a little necromancy we may be able to-"

"Absolutely not!" Imoen shouted. Putting her back to the pair of drow, she faced the man himself. "Hey Valygar! It's pretty annoying when people talk all around you instead of to you, isn't it?"

"A bit," he agreed.

"So I'm thinking: you've sworn to end your family curse and all that, right? Seems like we're already halfway done. We've got Lavok on the run, and you've got your magical family sword what's destined to slay him and everything! Right?"

When Valygar just gave her a pondering look, she kept on: "Lavok's shed his corporeal form and gone off into the Abyss. Seems like he's made himself some sort of demon-thing now. And you know what they say: you slay a demon on its home plane, and you've slain it for good. So now we've just got to go out there and have ourselves one more big, bad, epic-throw-down of a battle with Mr. Evil Sneering Wraith-Man himself, and then we've won! It'll be a fight bards'll sing about for ages! Whatta ya say?"

Valygar stayed quiet a moment longer, to the point where it felt a little awkward, then he drew in a breath. "I will not maroon you," he said. "If that's what you're asking. We will all return to Toril. Much as I have…misgivings about giving Lavok an opportunity out there."

"He could stay behind…" Kirian suggested.

"Absolutely not!" the female lizardfolk objected. "We do not divide our forces. That is something an experienced predator will take advantage of."

"Alright, alright. Guess we all should prepare for a demon hunt, then." Turning her head, she muttered under her breath: "(Snippy lizard-bitch)."

A little while later, when they were climbing back up the stairs and out of the engine room, Valygar slipped in beside Imoen, pitching his voice low. "You realize," he whispered, tapping the pommel of his weapon, "that this is just an enchanted sword, right? It has no prophesized destiny."

"Nope," Imeon replied. "I don't realize that at all. In fact, I refuse to."

It came as a relief when the trees finally gave way to open fields, and Edwin found himself ducking out and into the light. The Tradeway was in sight now, just down the hill, its straight and even paving cutting through the fields and hillocks. It looked delightfully solid and dry: a welcome change after all of the tedious hours he had spent slogging through the mud.

There would be no more of that, today. No more irritating vines conspiring to trip him, either. No more grasping branches as well, and no more sticky spider's webs hanging across his path. Civilization (or at least what passed for it out in these backwards lands) was finally in sight! And if he never again set foot within a forest (or worse: a swamp), well, that would be just fine.

The morning air was pleasantly crisp, and a stiff breeze rustled through the wild grasses as they followed the trail down to the highway-proper. As usual, the girl marched in the lead, setting a brisk pace, and her obedient pup-of-a-man followed close at her heel.

"Once we sort this mess out with the Shadow Thieves and get Alora back," Ashura was saying, "I guess the next step will be chartering a ship. We still have those star charts. A reliable crew should be able to read them. Take you back to your island."

The wolf-boy nodded. "Another sea's journey," he said, with little enthusiasm. He glanced back towards the forest. "And a journey taken alone this time. Among strangers."

"Sorry." There was an awkward silence. A few dozen paces later, Ashura spoke up again: "I know you've never gone anywhere without your sister before, but I'm sure-"

"Do not coddle him!" Edwin snapped. "All he needs do now is cross a tiny tract of water, and his mission will be complete. About time he actually manned up and did something, I say. His sister has won every victory thus far."

Durlyle's posture straightened a bit. Perhaps the insult had done gotten through his dense head. "I will lead my people to this place," he stated. "As I have sworn."

"Good then. I'm sure this land will be teaming with werewolves within a year's time." Edwin had his doubts, of course. More likely this idiot boy, or perhaps all of his idiot people, would soon wind up at the bottom of the sea.

The boy seemed to miss his sarcasm, though. "We will only dwell in the deepest woods. The lands watched over by my sister and her new…circle. There, we will hunt in peace."

"Sounds like a plan," Ashura said absently.

Soon, the walls of Trademeet loomed ahead of them. Up on their little basket-towers, the guards were watching the road. Colorful tents rested in the shadow of the western wall, and over on the eastern side, obscured by trees, stood some roughhewn scaffolding.

As they approached, something seemed to draw Ashura's attention, and her pace quickened. She took a sharp right, marching off the road and towards the eastern wall.

The scaffolding had been here the last time they'd passed by the gate, as Edwin recalled, and its purpose had been clear then, what with the sturdy beam above, and the hinges on the trap below. There had been no nooses dangling from the gallows, then.

One hung there now, fitted tight about the neck of a swaying corpse. A woman's body, he noted, dressed in ragged burlap, with her hands tied behind her back. The executioners had placed a wooden placard over her chest, and two words were painted there, in clear Amnish script:

'Shadow Thief.'

"Damnit," Ashura gritted out through clenched teeth.

Damnit indeed. Edwin's lips twitched as he took in the sight. That…that was definitely their Shadow Thief contact hanging up there. What had her name been? Iona?

Edwin's mouth opened, and he drew in a breath, but no words came out. He clenched his fists.

'…the life of your halfling will be forfeit.'

Blast! As Edwin recalled, the woman had been saying something about needing to enter this city with caution, just before the mountain cat had pounced on her. Mentioning that she was a wanted criminal in Trademeet would have been helpful! The sort of thing you should say early on!

Huffing, he began to pace.

Blast and double-blast! The Shadow Thieves had acted so brazenly inside Athkatla, that he had just assumed that they ruled all of Amn with impunity. They had certainly claimed as much. Over-boasting, he realized now. They were obviously not so invulnerable here on the border, in a city governed by a paladin. Perhaps they had not expected such a bold move from Lord Coprith-

Edwin shook himself. None of this speculation about Amn's internal politics mattered now. Words finally came to him. "Everyone!" he snapped. "Hold hands!"

"Wha-?" Ashura began, but Edwin was in no mood to explain. He seized her hand, then gripped Durlyle by the wrist, barking out a spell:

"Siltir varak – keev."

Everything rippled, then the world turned brown and blank. For a moment it felt like they were falling, though Edwin knew better. They were traveling in a manner that human senses were unable to process. That –and the fact that human sight could not perceive what lay before it in this extra-dimensional space– was what usually caused teleportation sickness.

Edwin was inured to that, of course. His feet landed on fluffy carpet and he remained steady, while his companions reeled and wobbled. All around them the brown resolved into gaudy wall-hangings and decorative wicker-work. This was the shared space of their old suite, in the Sea's Bounty festhall.

Ashura stumbled back against a wall, and Durlyle immediately slumped and groaned.

Edwin gave the boy space to keel over fully and vomit, turning away and beginning to pace once again. "We will march upon the guildhall," he growled as he went, "and we will storm the place! That is what we should have done the moment the halfling was stolen! Instead we've been played for fools! Jumping through hoops for this band of thieves! And now our forces are diminished!"

He reached a wall, turned, and paced the other way. "(Diminished greatly, without the female wolf. Bah! But we are still a force to be reckoned with! We've a Bhaalspawn, one remaining werewolf, and my magics are greater than any that the thieves might wield.)"

Another swivel, and another pace. "(Still, there will be all manner of hidden dangers, in a den like theirs. A lair of spies and thieves. Planning our attack would be prudent, though we might not have the time for that now)."

Pace.

"(Blast it! Ironically, storming the lair would be far easier if we still had the little thief to lead the way. She was the only one in our sorry little band with a knack for sussing out traps and unseen pitfalls)."

Pace.

"(I could summon something with keen senses, though it would make a poor substitute for a proper delver of-)"

"Hey now," a voice interrupted. It sounded nasal, low to the floor, and a bit sleepy. "If you really want me to lead you somewhere, I'd be happy to help!"

Edwin whirled. Inside a nearby doorframe leaned Alora, dressed in a violet nightgown and stifling a yawn. It seemed that all of his pacing, shouting, and grumbling had woken her up.

Author's Note: Credit to fellow author Theodur for the idea that a reanimated Valygar might be used to control the Planar Sphere. It seemed like something that would cross Baeloth's mind.