Bruce Cordell: City of Torment

The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Leaving Xxiphu

Japheth witnessed Raidon Kane complete the binding. He perceived the great shock of negation expanding up from the freshly scribed hundred foot-diameter seal and penetrating the Eldest. The beast groaned, even in its petrified slumber, as if crying out against the injustice of the world.

But the tendril of awareness that dealt with Japheth insisted the warlock stick to his deal.

Japheth agreed and continued to hold the personality fragment to its end of the bargain, even as the elder servitors of Xxiphu swirling below Japheth's feet raged at their failure. He maintained his position and shouted, over and over again, even as his voice cracked, "Release Anusha Marhana! Release her!"

And just like that, Japheth felt Anusha's focus slip free. Yeva's too! "Yes!"

Anusha's focus sped away, seeking its rightful mooring. Yeva's foundered. He'd expected that and offered the homeless spirit a temporary roost in the dark confines of his rod. Though he couldn't see it, he felt the spirit of the strange woman take up residence within it.

The ritual concluded. He plunged toward the floor.

He instinctively reached out to grasp for a support where none existed. Wasting time clawing at empty air almost proved his death. But a moment before his brains were dashed out upon the floor of the throne chamber, he plunged into the gaping discontinuity of his cloak.

And stepped out into a rounded tunnel dripping with phosphorescent slime.

A sprinting man avoided colliding with him with a spectacular leap that cleared Japheth's head by inches.

The man rolled into a landing, was back on his feet a moment later, and turned to regard the warlock. "Japheth," he said, "you should not have come here."

"Raidon Kane," said Japheth. "We can argue that later. Right now about twenty-odd aboleths, each the size of a dragon, are coming down this corridor. We must go!" The monk regarded the warlock a heartbeat longer, then said, "The woman, your friend, was with me a moment ago in her intangible shape. She seems-"

"I released her, Raidon! I did it!" He raised a fist and grinned. "Now come on! Show me the way to your ship!

Seren told me you outfitted Green Siren to bring you here."

The monk's face, normally an expressionless mask, wavered between resignation and anger. The half-elf didn't look well. His wild expression suggested he was on the edge of a mental break.

A scream of abolethic fury and a flash of red light behind Japheth lit the monk's face. It was enough to engage Raidon once more.

"This way. You will have to keep up with me. Perhaps we can catch up to Seren and Thoster. They went ahead-I haven't been this way before."

Raidon sprinted off down the corridor.

Japheth followed. He immediately fell behind.

He hadn't traversed more than a hundred yards when he detected a change in the timbre of the pursuing aboleths. Perhaps it was the star pact that gave him insight into the sounds. Or maybe it was because he knew why a passel of despairing servitors of Xxiphu, bent on murderous revenge, would suddenly give up the chase.

He knew why they exulted instead. He'd given them a gift beyond measure.

Or at least they would initially assume he had.

Right now, they rejoiced that their progenitor wasn't dead. They rejoiced because they believed they had the key to resuming their rousing chant where they'd left off.

Soon enough, the aboleths and the Eldest's slumbering, yet all-too-active subconscious would realize his deception. He hoped he could get out of the terrible city and back to Green Siren-where, the stars willing, Anusha waited- before then.

Despite his deception, the warlock had still provided the aboleths a prize that would prove all too useful. He regretted it, but not enough that he would have decided differently if given the chance to do it over.

Japheth ran.

Despite his earlier implication, Raidon did wait up for Japheth. Every so often the monk paused at the edge of a pool of slime where an aboleth yet slumbered. As the warlock caught up, the monk plunged Angul into the cavity, killing the monster before it even realized its peril. An expression of grim satisfaction hardened the monk's face each time.

When Raidon had his blade out, Japheth stayed clear. With the new pact, Japheth suspected the Blade Cerulean would see him as essentially no different from an aboleth or other aberrant creature. The weapon was insane.

And Japheth suspected, the more he watched the half-elf, so was the wielder.

The tunnel spit the gasping Japheth into a cavity whose far side was open to the massive vault that surrounded Xxiphu. Green Siren hung unsuspended in the air just feet from a protruding stone shelf. Seeing it hovering without support, save for a few slack ropes tied to the shelf, gave Japheth a momentary rush of vertigo.

Sparkling gold and red points of light swirled around the ship.

Raidon, Thoster, Seren, and several crew were also visible, including the first mate. Raidon was boarding. Seren stood on the deck of Green Siren nearest the shelf. Thoster's strong voice was directing the crew to cast off.

Japheth ran to the gangplank and crossed.

Raidon gave the warlock a hard look as he pounded across the plank. Japheth was glad to see the monk had sheathed Angul once more.

"Let's get out of here," Japheth said.

"Cast off." yelled Thoster.

The crew severed the last lines holding the ship. Green Siren drifted away from the shelf, toward the open air of the hollow.

"Raidon," said Seren, "will you control the ascent?" She gestured to a ritual circle smeared onto the main deck.

The monk continued to stare at Japheth, but nodded. Then he said, "And you still have the Dreamheart safe, Japheth?"

"I had to give it up."

"What?" Seren gasped. Her face lost all color. Raidon snorted, as if he'd already guessed. Japheth tensed, ready to defend himself if the monk went for him. The tableau held for several heartbeats, until an exclamation by three crew members drew their attention back to the increasingly distant stone shelf.

Two humanoid figures and one shadowy hound stood on it.

Japheth sucked in air. Even at the large and growing distance, he recognized the figures as Malyanna and Neifion.

Malyanna lifted something over her head. A spherical object.

"What kind of boneheaded stunt did you pull out there, lad?" said Thoster. "Is that-?"

"It's the Dreamheart!" said Seren. "It doesn't matter," said Japheth. "Why not?" asked Thoster.

"Because I locked up a portion of the Dreamheart's strength. They can't use it to its full power." He didn't volunteer that he'd switched pacts and had locked up a portion of the stone's essence within himself. That was what kept him safe from the crimson road. He fancied he detected the tendrils of influence he'd stolen locked in opposition with the demonic power of his addiction, striving one against the other but equally matched. As long as that struggle persisted, neither could muster the strength to claim the warlock. It was a delicate balance.

"Are you mad?" Seren asked. "The stone still has power, no matter how much you've drawn off."

"Perhaps your meddling is the reason the Eldest did not die as I intended," said Raidon.

"It's not dead?" said Thoster, his brow crinkled with concern.

"Not dead, but sleeping again," said Raidon Seren said, "Oh, that's just wonderful!" She pointed an accusatory finger at Japheth and said, "Does the Dreamheart retain enough strength to break Raidon's binding over the Eldest?"

Raidon shifted his weight, preparatory to drawing Angul.

Japheth didn't know the answer to Seren's question. Maybe. But he pointed back to the shelf. "Perhaps it's escaped your notice, but Malyanna holds the Dreamheart. She must have taken it from the throne chamber. So the binding has not broken. She didn't let the Eldest or its servitors have it."