Douglas Niles - Fistanadantilus Reborn

Danyal watched the shimmering window take firmer shape in the air.

"Hold!" cried the skeletal Fistandantilus. Abruptly the grotesque personage vanished, reappearing directly before his counterpart. Kelryn Darewind stepped after it, forming the third point of a triangle.

"I remember!" It was Emilo Haversack who spoke, his voice a whisper of wonder. "I recall everything that happened to me. It started with the skull, a very, very long time ago. I saw it there, in the darkness… The dwarf struck me with it, and my memories were gone."

He looked at Dan, his eyes wide with awe and dawning understanding. "That's where my sickness came from-and it took away my memories, too! My life, my whole past! But now they've come back!"

Emilo skipped a little step, as if he were ready to break into a dance. "I come from Kendermore, and… and I remember a time before the Cataclysm! And… and I thank you all for helping me, for keeping me alive, for letting me get better!"

"You saved us, too, if you don't remember," Danyal replied.

The kender scowled. "But that stone and skull-they shouldn't be together, should they?"

"No, they shouldn't!" Mirabeth wrapped the kender in a hug as Danyal continued to watch the two magic-users and their prophet. Kelryn was raving, his voice shrill as he made demands of first one, then the other Fistandantilus.

And all the time the bloodstone lay on the floor, pulsing in time with the flaring image of that green-framed window. The mysterious portal whirled in the air, still suspended above the silver hourglass.

"The power was mine-the bloodstone belongs to me!" Kelryn's voice was shrill but futile.

"You are mine!" the lich declared in a voice like the wind from a newly opened crypt, finally turning to regard the bandit lord with its flaring, horrifying eyes. "For too long you have used my talisman as your toy, playing your role as a priest. My strength sustained you, and now you will sustain me!"

Kelryn recoiled, his face draining of color under the inspection of the ghastly undead mage.

"His life belongs to me!" the other wizard interjected. "It was my essence that held back the effects of age, that allowed him to survive for so long."

Each of the black-robed figures took one of the bandit's arms. Light seared the air, a sizzling aura that outlined the twisting, writhing figure in cold brightness. Danyal, watching in awe, saw the illumination as power, and he observed the power divided.

The essence of Kelryn Darewind's life was sucked from his body as the bandit lord writhed and screamed in unspeakable agony. He weakened quickly, moaning, slumping between the two mighty sorcerers. Vitality faded from the man's eyes, and Dan could almost see the warmth of his blood being pulled from his flesh, flowing in equal portions into the two versions of the black-robed archmage.

Finally the sorcerers released the clawlike hands of their shriveled victim, and Kelryn Darewind crumpled to the ground, the shell of his skin drained of blood, of vitality and life. The corpse lay motionless on the floor while the two images of Fistandantilus stood trembling under the onslaught of renewed life and restored power.

A web of green light flared, sparking and firing between the two archmages. Tendrils of ghostly power connected into a glowing net of supernatural, sinister force.

"Together-they've absorbed him together!" Foryth Teel whispered, awed.

"What does it mean? What will happen?" Danyal asked.

"I don't know, but see: Neither archmage can break away from his counterpart. I think that whichever one prevails will either be very powerful, so much so that he becomes in fact invulnerable, or he will be doomed."

The mountain itself trembled under the onslaught of barely contained power. Pieces of rock broke from the ceiling, tumbling down to shatter on the floor. Sharp-edged shards of stone flew here and there, several whizzing past dangerously close, but Danyal's attention was rapt, still focused on the two wizards. They strained visibly to tear themselves apart, but with the violence of the collapsing mountain forming a convulsive backdrop, the two black-robed forms were pulled inexorably closer together.

At the same time, vibrations of power continued to seethe and to rumble in the ground itself. Spatters of gravel tumbled from the ceiling, and tongues of flame flared upward, breaking through the crust of the floor. The cavern rocked back and forth, filling with smoke and dust, thundering with the violent noise of collapse and destruction.

And Danyal knew that Flayze's mountain was dying.

Third Bakukal, Reapember

374 AC

The green vortex of magic still hung over the hourglass, swirling like a liquid mirror. Now, instead of a pure reflection, the companions caught glimpses of actual places. Dan saw a forest, and then a swath of smooth, wave-swept beach. The two wizards grappled magically, taut within the web of green magic.

Another convulsion shook the lair of Flayzeranyx, and Danyal nearly lost his balance as a piece of the ceiling smashed to the floor nearby. Already the corridor by which the companions had entered was gone, vanished beneath a crushing barrier of rubble.

"Go!" Foryth Teel cried amid the chaos, pointing toward the glowing aperture. "This place is doomed! It's your only chance!"

Dan saw the diamondlike sand still sparkling magically as it tumbled through the narrow neck of the hourglass. The gray-robed man had lowered his pen, and his eyes were fixed upon the companions. He would write, Danyal sensed, when they acted.

But what should they do?

A hiss of energy crackled loudly as the Fistandantilus-lich tried to pull his counterpart to the side. The human version of the archmage set his feet and spread his fingers, summoning a roaring spiral of greenish fire that flared high and momentarily blocked the two figures from view. The screams that emerged from within the cocoon of magic were chilling and unnatural, each sound intense with unchained fury and violence.

The vortex to the worlds wheeled like a kaleidoscopic image, and the kender stared into the space, obviously fascinated. "What a place to wander-so many places," he declared in amazement. "There's a range of blue mountains-and look! A city, the whole thing crammed into one big tower!"

"Go, then. See all those places!" urged the historian. "Escape while you can, to survive and wander!"

"My friends, I shall do just that!" declared Emilo, suddenly decisive.

Mirabeth clasped her arms around him in a crushing hug. "Go now!" she demanded through her tears.

"Farewell, then, all of you-and thank you!" cried Emilo Haversack, turning to wave a jaunty farewell to the three humans. The two mages, still enshrouded by magic, took no note of the companions.

Before Dan could shout any kind of reply, the kender dived into-and through-the mirror. The lad caught a glimpse of a crowded street, a city with strange, lofty walls, and then the image had moved on to display a vault of cold, starry sky.

The visions in the arcane window continued to change. The next place was familiar-a mountain valley, scored by a small, babbling stream. Dan recognized the road they had followed near Loreloch, and then he saw the blackened ruin itself. In another moment he saw something moving, a familiar equine shape.

"There's the horse!" he cried as the image of the black mare, cantering gracefully along the road, came into view.

"Nightmare!" Mirabeth shouted. "Can you hear us? Come here!"

Suddenly the scene shifted, whirling closer in a dizzying rush, and then the horse was right before them. With a kicking, plunging jump, the animal leaped, and abruptly Nightmare passed through the shimmering window and was in the cave alongside them, rearing amidst the crumbling stone.