Jean Rabe - The Eve of the Maelstrom

Palin concentrated on the spell again and on Dalamar’s ring. He drew the energy from the ring, and the magic came quickly, whisking them away from the room high in the Tower of Wayreth. The stone floor of the tower disappeared beneath their feet, and within a few passing moments, the two sorcerers stood on uneven rocky ground on the side of a mountain in the heart of Neraka.

“This is not the cave,” the Shadow Sorcerer observed.

Palin shook his head. “No, but we are close. I did not want to appear in the midst of some evil gathering. Better that we investigate a little.”

“As you wish,” the Shadow Sorcerer said. “Lead the way, Majere.”

Palin picked his way along the mountainside. It was late afternoon, and an orange glow painted the rocks and warmed his skin. He inhaled deeply. The air seemed sweeter outside the tower, away from the powders and smokes of magical studies and incantations. He had caged himself in the Tower of Wayreth for too long.

He heard the Shadow Sorcerer softly muttering behind him, felt his skin tingle and realized his companion was cloaking their presence with an invisibility spell. It was a precaution Palin would not have bothered with, as he was certain dragons did not need to see trespassers to know they were near. Their other senses were highly acute. Still, Palin admitted to himself that being invisible was wise. At least any Knights of Takhisis stationed in the mountains would be unable to see them.

“What do you know of Ariakan?” the Shadow Sorcerer whispered.

“That he was an evil man, but one who demonstrated some honor. He had traits to be admired, and he endured much.”

The Shadow Sorcerer nodded. “Including captivity for many years at the hands of his foes, the Knights of Solamnia.”

“He learned from them.”

“Yes. And undoubtedly some of that knowledge led him to establish the Knights of Takhisis.”

Palin nodded. “I suppose,” he said. “It was fitting that following the Chaos War, the remnants of the Dark Queen’s knights withdrew to this land, which is named for the city that once belonged to Takhisis.”

“She built the city of Neraka, did she not?”

“In a manner of speaking. It would be more accurate to say she caused it to be built. Legend says she planted the cornerstone of the Kingpriest’s Temple of Istar, which grew into a terrible edifice from which she mustered and rallied her forces. The city grew up around that great, dark place.”

“And all in the city served her,” the Shadow Sorcerer said. “Ariakan’s Rest is where she will return. The Master was wrong to think otherwise. Our trip here will make him realize his bad judgment.”

The pair lapsed into silence as they continued along a thin trail. Most of the countryside was like this place: barren, inhospitable, rugged, and steep. Between the mountain ranges that crisscrossed the land were nestled dry, narrow valleys. Volcanoes dotted the country. It was a perfect climate for red and blue dragons, and Palin knew there were a few in the area.

Shortly before sunset, the two men reached the entrance to the cave. It looked like a wide, deep scar, large enough for even dragons to fit through. As the two sorcerers made their way on the last bit of trail, they noticed smoke curling upward from three encampments. The Shadow Sorcerer, with the aid of his magic, confirmed their suspicions that garrisons of Knights of Takhisis were camped nearby.

“We should go inside Ariakan’s Rest to be certain,” he observed to Palin. “After all, we have come this far.”

“No debate.” Palin took a deep breath and realized his hands were trembling from anticipation, and from fear of what might await them in the bowels of the mountain. He slipped inside the cave, hugging the wall. His skin tingled, and he knew the invisibility spell had lapsed. He hoped he wouldn’t need it here. He stood silent for a moment, listening. The only sound he could hear was the teasing wind. The air was still and dry. He crept forward, working to calm his nerves and his shaking fingers.

The cave was deep, and the farther in he went, the darker it became. Palin thought to himself that Feril’s vision would come in handy. He could not see the Shadow Sorcerer behind him, but he sensed the mage was there.

Palin used his left hand to guide him. He walked purposefully, but not too fast. He could no longer see anything but blackness and did not want to risk tripping. The cave floor sloped downward, steeply in places, and wound in a slow spiral. He imagined for a moment that he was following the same course Ariakan had pursued those many decades ago when he followed the seashells that led him to safety. But there were no seashells to lead Palin. And he doubted the cave was safe.

He stopped abruptly and heard the Shadow Sorcerer behind him.

“Majere?”

“I see it.”

There was a soft light ahead, pale gray and flickering. Palin steadied himself and pressed forward. Within moments found himself in a massive chamber—massive enough to contain several dragons.

A dozen torches faintly lit the chamber. They burned magically, leaving no trace of smoke.

“Empty,” Palin whispered. He padded toward the center of the chamber, scrutinizing the floor. On it was a thick layer of dirt in which the tracks of a small dragon were evident. He knelt near a clawprint, glancing toward the opposite wall. “Dragon spoor. Indeed you could be right.”

“Indeed, Majere,” the Shadow Sorcerer said.

A ball of hot light materialized where Palin knelt. The searing flash burned away the sorcerer’s clothes and hair.

Palin writhed in agony, screaming, while the cold, logical part of his mind realized he would be dead in a moment or two if he didn’t act. The sorcerer concentrated on Dalamar’s ring and tried his best to blot out the pain—which was impossible. He rolled in the dirt, trying to cool himself. Naked and scarred, he staggered to his feet, gasping for air. He found that breathing was painful. His lungs ached. He looked about for the Shadow Sorcerer but could not penetrate the darkness. The fireball had half-blinded him. An unusual form of dragon breath? Palin wondered as he backed toward a cavern wall. A spell? He glanced at the torches. They still glowed. There was no trace of the Shadow Sorcerer. Every inch of Palin’s body cried out to be cooled, and he suspected Dalamar’s ring had been the only thing that kept him from being turned into a pile of ash.

“Majere.” The Shadow Sorcerer’s voice.

Palin peered into the dark crevices. Nothing. Something made him look up. Hovering in the center of the chamber was the Shadow Sorcerer, unmarred gray robes billowing about him, hood thrown back. A silver mask gleamed on the sorcerer’s face, hiding any expression there. Voluminous sleeves were pulled back to reveal gloved hands.

Beams of light leapt from the Shadow Sorcerer’s fingers, streaking like ribbons of red and yellow fireflies toward Palin.

Palin dropped to his stomach and rolled out of the way, feeling the ferocious heat from the light above. “What are you doing?” Palin cried as he sprang to his feet. He concentrated on Dalamar’s ring, focusing an enchantment that might protect him.

“Ending this foolishness,” came the icy reply. “Ending your attempt to stop the Dark Queen’s coming! Die, Majere!” Again shards of light shot from the gray-cloaked wizard’s fingers.

Palin did not completely elude the blast this time. The shards struck him and sent a fresh jolt of agony into his body. He screamed, losing the incantation he’d been attempting.

“Stop this!” Palin gasped.

“Oh, I have hardly begun, Majere,” the Shadow Sorcerer taunted. His voice was no longer a whisper. It rose and echoed through the chamber, shrill and brimming with hatred. To Palin, it seemed almost as if another man were speaking through the sorcerer’s mouth. “By believing me, by believing that Takhisis might return here, you have lost. You allowed yourself to be spirited away from your precious tower. You walked away from all your friends and from all your defenses. You left the Master—whom you should have trusted. He is right, you know. The Dark Queen will be reborn at the Window to the Stars. She will be reborn there a little earlier than you anticipated. Three weeks, Majere. Three weeks from this very night. It is a pity you will not be there to witness it. But die, Majere, knowing that you have helped the dragons to win. The dragon goddess cannot be challenged now!”