Troy Denning - The Summoning

"It is a god's body-though Karsus was a god for only an instant," said Melegaunt.

"And this dead god will save Evereska how?" asked Galaeron, seeing no sign of the help Melegaunt had promised. "You can't mean to resurrect him."

"In a manner of speaking, yes," said Melegaunt. "But first we must find the black pyramid."

"First, you must find Wulgreth," said Jhingleshod. "You cannot enter the pyramid until you keep your promise."

"As you wish." Despite Melegaunt's words, his tone was impatient. 'Tell us where to look."

Jhingleshod ran his gaze over the plaza. "He should have made his presence known by now"

Melegaunt turned to Galaeron. "You're the tomb guard. What's Wulgreth planning?"

"Maybe nothing." Galaeron turned to Jhingleshod and asked, "How long has it been since you last saw him?"

Jhingleshod looked at the sky. "Time is difficult to judge, but several winters. It might have been eight or nine-or a dozen. It is hard to know." "But it has been some time?" asked Takari.

Jhingleshod nodded. "Since before Tianna Skyflower and her ilk began to roam the Dire Wood."

"That makes it nearly a decade," said Takari. She looked to Galaeron. "What do you think?"

Galaeron shrugged, knowing without asking what she was thinking. Often, liches evolved into beings of pure spirit, forsaking their bodies to wander other worlds beyond Toril. When that happened, their corpses began to decay, until all that remained was a skull and some dust to which the lich had only the most tenuous attachment. It was often easier to destroy such creatures than younger liches, but Galaeron knew better than to think they would be that lucky-especially if Wulgreth had only been gone a decade.

Galaeron shook his head. "We'll keep it in mind, but there's too much that doesn't make sense here. The Netherese Wulgreth is certainly old enough, but not the one Jhingleshod served-and there's that time gap to consider." "So what do we do?" asked Malik. "The only thing we can do," said Galaeron. "Draw it out."

30 Nightal, the Year of the Unstrung Harp

From atop the Karsus Butte, the ruins of Karse seemed one huge mold blossom, sickly yellow and reeking of decay, studded with shadowtop snags and crisscrossed by dragonflies the size of eagles. There was a tornado of crimson mist whirling down the Heartblood River and a curtain of smoking hail sweeping across the ruins, but Galaeron had been assured by Jhingleshod that such "wizard weather" had nothing to do with the lich. Strange storms had plagued the area since long before Wulgreth's death. Galaeron and the others were standing on Karsus's "chest," outside a two-story pyramid of black marble. Though the building's darkness and gloss were a stark contrast to butte's coarse sandstone, the pyramid seemed melded to the rock, almost as though it had been grown instead of built Aris was studying the workmanship, but everyone else was keeping watch for Wulgreth. "Anything?" Galaeron asked. "Flaming rain and green lightning," reported Vala.

"Silver snow by the steaming lake," said Takari. "It can't be more than a couple of miles. Maybe a bath-" "No!"

Melegaunt and Jhingleshod spoke over each other, the wizard declaring they had important business at hand and Jhingleshod claiming that distances within the Dire Wood were deceiving. Takari pouted. "We've already wasted an hour." "An hour you do not have," said a wispy voice.

Galaeron and everyone else spun toward the sound and found themselves looking at a pale, quivering Malik. "On my life, I said nothing!"

Galaeron frowned-since the sunken bridge, it seemed people were always giving him reason to be suspicious-then he noticed a powerful-looking silhouette at Malik's feet. Galaeron gestured with his sword. "Malik, your shadow has returned." Malik looked down. "What a joy to have you back!"

"You must know I cannot say the same." As the shadow spoke, its antlers grew thinner, and the fuzzy hole in its chest began to close. "It is bad enough to follow a man about like a slave one's whole life, but when that man is the inept seraph of a-"

"Enough!" growled Melegaunt. "You have something to report, shadow?"

"I do." The antlers grew as thin as twigs, and the crimson eyes turned pale. "There was a fight in the swamp, but only one creature survived." "Which one?"

"A human." The shadow's voice was soft and wispy, almost inaudible. "With the pipe and…" "Elminster?"

The silhouette's eyes closed, then it melded into Malik's pear like figure and was just a shadow once more.

"We must go inside." Melegaunt started around the pyramid.

Jhingleshod clanged after him. "This Elminster is not my concern. You must destroy Wulgreth first."

"And we will." Galaeron scrambled after the pair. "But Melegaunt's right It's time to go inside."

Jhingleshod turned his lidless eyes on Galaeron. "You are not lying?" Though he asked it as a question, to Galaeron the words felt more like a command. "You will keep your word?"

"If this is Wulgreth's lair, well find him inside," said Galaeron. "If he's not there already, hell come when we enter."

Jhingleshod studied Galaeron with his vacant eyes for a moment, then followed Melegaunt and Vala into the crooked entrance corridor. Galaeron had Aris call upon his god to bless a full skin of water, then took Takari and Malik after the others. Too large to enter with them, the giant waited outside.

The darkness and close confines reminded Galaeron of the cairns in the Sharaedim, though the passageway smelled more like blood than dust, with just a hint of sulfur and steam. Within a few steps, the corridor opened into a vestibule lit by silver spell light. In the moment it took Galaeron's eyes to adjust to the harsh light, he heard Melegaunt saying, "Jhingleshod, here is your Wulgreth. Nothing but dust and bones."

Galaeron glimpsed the wizard's burly shape stooping to pick something up, then heard Takari hissing a spell and knew she had realized the same thing he had. "Don't touch-"

Takari's spell erupted in a terrible ringing, causing Melegaunt and Vala to cover their ears and spin toward the clamor. Galaeron pushed his way past the pair and found a cloud of dust whirling in the corner, a gray skull rising into the air atop it He motioned the others away, then breathed a silent sigh of relief when Takari canceled her spell.

"What spell was that?" he asked, keeping a wary eye on the dust pillar. "You nearly broke my eardrums."

"It was supposed to be a silence spell," Takari answered. "Something went wrong."

"Wild magic," explained Jhingleshod. "The Dire Wood is full of it, and the closer to the pyramid, the worse it grows."

"Then let me be the first to suggest we are in terrible trouble," said Malik. Hanging the skin of blessed water over his shoulder, he drew his curved dagger and waved it at the spinning dust, which was now taking a vaguely human shape. "I fear we have found Wulgreth."

"There is nothing to fear." Melegaunt took out a sliver of obsidian and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. "My spells are not affected by wild magic."

"No!" Galaeron and Takari yelled, then Galaeron added, "Whatever it does, do nothing in return." "Nothing?" Malik gasped.

"It's a demilich," Galaeron explained. "It will absorb your attacks and use the energy to return to this world."

"A demilich?" echoed Malik. "Then it will be easier to destroy?"

"Trickier," Takari said. "If we strike too early, we bring it back. If we strike too late…" "Yes?" Malik raised his brow. "If we strike too late?"

Galaeron answered, "The Tomb Guard has accounts of demiliches killing an entire company with a single screech."

"Accounts?" Malik said. "I thought you had fought many of these things!"

Galaeron and Takari exchanged looks, then he said, "There was one lich."