James Ward - Pool of Twilight

A rough, natural wall of stone loomed before them in the gray air. A jagged opening yawned like a gigantic maw. Evaine did not need to say that this was the entrance to the pool.

The attack came without warning.

A ring of shadow trees closed around them, swinging dark limbs ending in sharp, broken branches.

Kern was knocked from his feet and fell hard to the earth. A tree plucked Daile off the ground. The ranger screamed as she struggled to free herself, but more and more branches snaked out to grip her.

A dozen branches reached for Miltiades. He swung at them with his sword, his blade passing right through the shadow substance of the trees. Quickly he scrambled out of their reach. Evaine chanted the words of a spell. A ball of green lightning appeared in her hand, which she hurled at a knot of shadow trees. The lightning expanded as it flew through the air. It struck the approaching trees dead-on, bursting in a brilliant spray of emerald sparks. The shadow trees marched on, unaffected.

"Let her go!" Kern shouted, gaining his feet and charging the tree that held Daile. He swung the hammer at its trunk. Like Miltiades' sword, it passed right through the immaterial substance of the tree.

"How can we fight shadows?" Trooper cried. He, too, was having no luck with his sword, and Gamaliel's claws proved no more effective against the shadow trees.

"I have an idea," Listle shouted. "Everyone, hold your weapons high!"

Kern didn't know what the elf intended, but there was no time to question her. The circle of trees was tightening around them. He raised the Hammer of Tyr into the air. Trooper and Miltiades did likewise with their weapons.

Listle moved her hands in an intricate pattern. Suddenly all three of the upraised weapons shimmered with magical fire. "Now give them a try," she said with a grin.

Miltiades turned to an approaching tree. He swung his sword, cleaving an outstretched branch in two. The tree recoiled in agony, the severed branch smoking. With a cry, Kern hurled himself at the tree that held Daile captive. His blow landed squarely on its trunk. The shadow tree shuddered as crimson flame licked up its dark surface.

It still did not let go of Daile.

Kern swore. The flames would consume her along with the tree.

"Daile, you've got to break free!" he cried.

"I can't!" She struggled frantically, to no avail. The flames leaped higher, until Daile was lost to sight. Kern staggered backward in horror as the tree toppled to the ground. In moments the flames died down and vanished. There was nothing left of the shadow tree.

Daile sat on the ground, unhurt, a puzzled expression on her face.

"How-How-" she began.

"It's illusionary fire!" Listle called out in explanation.

Suddenly Kern understood the logic. "Illusionary fire to burn shadow trees," he said in amazement. "How did you guess, Listle?"

She regarded him with a strange expression. "I'm the expert on illusions, aren't I, Kern?"

He did not have time to reply. Cold, misty branches clutched at him from behind. He whirled around, hammer blazing, and another tree was turned into flaming splinters.

With the help of Listle's magical fire, Kern, Miltiades, and Trooper made quick work of the rest of the shadow trees. At last the grove was silent. If the remaining trees were capable of fighting, they were less willing to try now.

Kern drew in a deep breath of relief. They had survived the first test.

"This cannot be!" Sirana shrieked.

She stood upon a small spur of rock in the center of the pool of twilight. Her body was completely obscured now by the brilliant metallic flecks that swirled madly beneath her skin, but she neither noticed nor cared. She watched an image in the surface of the pool. Kern and his wretched band of friends had just slain her beautiful shadow trees.

"How dare they defy me?" she screamed once more, her voice resounding through the vast cavern.

For the first time since becoming guardian of the pool, she felt a pang of anxiety. She had believed her power to be invincible. Could it be that these fools truly presented a threat to her?

"They will not defeat me!" she snarled. "I will have my revenge. And the Hammer of Tyr. Then I will become a goddess!"

But perhaps she needed some help.

Yes, that was it. Why hadn't she thought of getting help sooner? There was one in particular who could help her defeat the paladin-puppy and his band of idiots. In fact, he would have no choice but to aid her.

She cast her mind forth, using the power of the pool to send forth a summons. A summons that could not be refused.

When that was done, she turned her thoughts to a plan. She needed something else out of the ordinary to neutralize the invaders. But what?

Suddenly a gleaming tendril of water lifted itself from the pool, bearing a staff of dull silver. Sirana laughed.

Ah, yes, the Staff of Twilight. The pool knew her very thoughts. She reached out and grasped the throbbing staff.

Now she had everything she needed.

Dusk alighted on the high crag, spreading wide his midnight-black wings.

A thousand dragons filled the huge valley that stretched before him. For three days he had flown the length and breadth of the Moonsea, using the power Sirana had granted him from the pool to rally the evil dragons. Black, blue, red, and green, he sought them all in their lairs, deep in dank caves and perched on mountain heights. The magic of the twilight pool lent power to his words, and it had been simple to fan the spark of hatred each dragon bore in its heart for humankind.

"Hear me now, my brothers and sisters!" Dusk trumpeted, his voice thundering throughout the valley. "The second dragon-rage is nigh! We shall drive the humans from their homes. We shall slay them to the last. And then we will plunder their cities of treasure. Each of you will gain a hoard of gold such as a king only dreams of!"

And, Dusk added to himself, I will have a hundred times that many riches, a treasure such as Faerun has never known. He smiled toothily, immensely pleased. None could hold the feeblest candle to his majesty. He was the most powerful dragon in all the northlands, and the others recognized his stature. But he was more than simply the strongest of his kind. He was their ruler, the emperor of dragons.

Dusk opened his many-fanged maw, ready to send out the order that would bring the dragons soaring into the sky in a deadly rainbow of color, the order that would begin the second dragon-rage. At last, he would have his long-awaited revenge against that wretched city of Phlan, and against all humankind.

Suddenly a voice pierced his mind.

Come to me, Dusk! I have need of you.

Dusk froze. No, this could not be! He felt something clutch at his essence, as if his heart were a puppet on a string.

"I will not, Sirana!" Dusk shrieked. Flecks of twilight swirled wildly in his one good eye.

Heed my call, Dusk. You cannot resist.

"No!" he screamed. Stones all around shattered at the furious pitch of his voice. But his wings had already started to beat, lifting him from the crag. His blood burned in his veins. It was as if he were a fish caught on a fisherman's line, slowly being reeled in. He tried to resist the pull, but it was too strong, too overpowering. The magical power he had accepted bound him inexorably to the pool.

"Curse you, Sirana! You will pay for this!"

Finally he could resist no longer. Silver sparks blazing in his eye, he soared high into the air, streaking toward the pool of twilight

Below him the evil dragons let out a roar of anger and confusion. Their leader was abandoning them. Without his influence, glorious thoughts of gold and human cities in flame evaporated from their minds. Their individual suspicious and greedy natures returned. Those that did not wheel to attack the dragons nearest to them immediately leaped into the air and sped back to their lairs to jealously guard their private hoards.