Tymora's Luck Read online

  The bar-lgura had marched them nearly half a mile through an encampment of hundreds of tanar’ri when Joel noted that the populace of the camp had begun to change, as had the atmosphere. The bar-lgura they had already passed had seemed content just to sit around, hardly giving the adventurers a glance. Now their guards led them through gangs of gaunt, filthy creatures who resembled minotaurs. Their behavior was aggressive and openly hostile. They fought with each other in vicious hand-to-hand combat, and several followed behind the guards, snarling at the adventurers.

  “What are they?” Joel whispered, nodding to the minotaur-like creatures.

  “Bulezau,” Holly whispered back. “Tanar’ri pit bulls.”

  She was rewarded with a slap on her head for speaking.

  As they continued on, they began passing tanar’ri troops, both bar-lgura and bulezau, drilling in attack formations. The bulezau who had been following gradually dropped behind. Joel could only assume their captors were approaching the army’s headquarters. Soon afterward they came upon a large pavilion, lit all around the perimeter by torches. It was the only shelter in the canyon. Undoubtedly it had been erected for privacy, since it could hardly shelter anyone from the heat and stench of the plane. To one side of the tent stood a flag emblazoned with Beshaba’s symbol—black stag horns on a field of red.

  The bar-lgura pushed them toward the entrance of the pavilion and formed a semicircle around the prisoners, who were curious to see what would happen next.

  A delicate hand moved the tent flap aside, and a small, graceful woman with long, silken black hair stepped out of the pavilion. A cold smile played across her lips.

  “So, Poppin, we meet again,” the priestess Walinda greeted the bard. Her eyes remained fixed on Joel like a viper’s on its prey.

  Joel bowed low before the priestess. Upon rising, he met her cold smile with a warmer one of his own. He realized he was mimicking the way Finder greeted women. “I have been searching for you,” the bard explained. “You’re looking well.”

  Indeed Walinda looked as lovely as ever, but there was something different about her, and Joel had to stare for a moment to realize what it was. She was wearing the same black plate armor she’d worn as a priestess of Bane. The ruby she’d worn on her forehead was gone, and over the blood-red tattoos on her cheek she had added Beshaba’s stag-horn symbol. There was something else different, something even more remarkable. A dark aura surrounded Walinda, a pulsing, fluctuating dark shadow that silhouetted her slender figure. It made her appear more powerful, more forbidding, more seductive.

  The bar-lgura holding the flying carpet dropped it at Walinda’s feet.

  Walinda acknowledged Holly’s presence with no more than a glance. Like the bar-lgura, she did not seem to notice Emilo. She did, however, note Jas’s absence. “So where is the pigeon girl?” she asked.

  “Jas? Why do you ask?” Joel retorted evenly.

  “The bar-lgura saw her fly off when you were captured,” Walinda said.

  “Oh, I imagine she’s around somewhere,” Joel replied, “inspecting the army you’ve got here. What does a priestess of Beshaba need with an army?” he asked.

  “That needn’t concern you,” Walinda replied. “The bar-lgura said you had news for me.”

  Joel was momentarily taken aback. It was unlike Walinda not to brag of the might of her forces, whatever they might be. For some reason, she held this proclivity in check now. “The news is for Lady Beshaba’s ears,” the bard answered.

  “I am Beshaba’s proxy,” Walinda said. “You may relay your news to me.”

  Joel glanced at the bar-lgura. Taking the hint, the priestess dismissed the guards with a wave of her hand. Joel sensed in the apelike tanar’ri a certain reluctance to depart. They stepped back several paces, but they did not leave entirely, nor did they turn their backs on their prisoners.

  When the tanar’ri were out of earshot, the bard explained in a quiet but urgent voice, “We know of the problem Lady Beshaba is having controlling her power. Lady Tymora is plagued with the same problem. Lord Finder is anxious to discover the cause and do away with it. He bade me to ask Lady Beshaba to meet him at the base of the Spire so they might discuss the situation and determine the solution.”

  “Beshaba already knows the cause of her misery. It is Iyachtu Xvim,” Walinda declared.

  “And yet the problem continues,” Joel noted, “despite her knowledge.”

  Walinda squinted her eyes in anger.

  “Lady Beshaba is a prisoner within the Bastion of Hate, isn’t she?” Holly asked.

  Walinda glared at the paladin.

  “Walinda, Lord Lathander has sent me to render you whatever aid you need to free Lady Beshaba,” Holly explained. Her voice was tight in an effort to control her anger that she was forced to deal with this woman.

  The priestess’s eyes widened. Then she burst out laughing. Just as suddenly she stopped, as if she were plunging a dagger into her prey, twisting it, then withdrawing it.

  “You?” Walinda exclaimed. “A paladin of light, here in Gehenna to aid Beshaba?”

  “Lord Lathander is an ally of Tymora,” Joel interrupted. “Since Lady Beshaba and Lady Tymora share the same problem, why should an alliance seem unusual?” Joel asked. “Furthermore, our own world is threatened by the goddesses’ troubles. Who better to save the luck of the Realms than a paladin?”

  Walinda tilted her head thoughtfully. Then she shrugged and said, “Beshaba has been so weakened that she is now unconscious. I need to reach her to restore her strength. She is indeed a prisoner inside Iyachtu Xvim’s realm, which is guarded by Xvim’s yugoloth mercenaries. Fortunately Xvim himself is not present. He hasn’t been since Beshaba arrived. I await but one more ally and we will attack the Bastion of Hate. You may join the attack if you so choose.”

  “Against yugoloths?” Holly exclaimed. “Your troops will be slaughtered!”

  “They are tanar’ri,” Walinda said dismissively. “They live only to die in the Blood War. What difference does it make if they die instead to help Beshaba? At any rate, the bulezau are anxious to engage the enemy. They care little who that enemy is. Their lord loaned me their services so they would not grow bored waiting for their next encounter with the baatezu.”

  “And the bar-lgura?” Holly challenged.

  “The bar-lgura are less eager,” Walinda admitted. “The other tanar’ri consider them little more than animals. A balor lord has sold them to me to punish them for failing to obey orders during a recent battle. I promised I would free any survivors.”

  An easy promise to make if they all die, Joel thought.

  “How far off is the Bastion of Hate?” Holly asked.

  Walinda pointed to the outer canyon. “If you climb up on that ridge and look down to your left, you will see Iyachtu’s fortress. Xvim has set a powerful enchantment about the Bastion of Hate so that no one can gate or teleport into the fortress.”

  “I want to see it,” Holly said.

  “Very well,” Walinda said.

  “We can take the carpet,” Joel said.

  Walinda unrolled the carpet a few feet with a nudge of her boot. “Nice workmanship,” she commented. “It will serve as payment of your commission in Beshaba’s army. You can walk up there. You’ll forgive me if I cannot join you. As I explained before, I am awaiting the arrival of an ally.” She turned to the bar-lgura. “Escort them to the ridge. They are to go no farther.”

  Holly and Joel trudged behind an honor guard of six bar-lgura. As they scrambled up the ridge, Joel noticed Emilo was missing. Joel wished fervently that he knew what the kender was up to.

  From the top of the ridge, they could see a great lava flow below, wider than any river. Chunks of unmelted rock were carried along in the fiery flow, like ice in a thawing stream. Across the river of magma, perched on a ledge cut out of the mountain, was Iyachtu Xvim’s fortress, the Bastion of Hate.

  On one side, the fortress was shielded by a cliff wall, on the other, by a crescent
-shaped wall fortified with six towers.

  “If Iyachtu Xvim isn’t in there, where is he?” Joel wondered aloud.

  Holly’s brow furrowed with puzzlement. “Visiting a friend?” she volunteered facetiously.

  Joel snorted in amusement. The god of hatred and tyranny was said to have no allies at all. “How do you think they’re planning on getting across that lava?” the bard asked.

  “All the tanar’ri, even the least, can teleport,” Holly said.

  “But according to Walinda, Xvim has enchanted his realm so no one can teleport into the fortress. They’ll have to climb over those walls,” Joel said.

  “Not necessarily,” Holly countered. “They need only distract the yugoloth so Walinda can sneak in and reach Beshaba without being killed or captured.”

  “How is Walinda going to restore Beshaba’s strength?”

  “You saw that dark aura around her,” Holly said. “Beshaba has imbued her with power.”

  “Like Finder pouring his energy into the finder’s stone,” Joel said, feeling the warmth of the crystal against his chest.

  “Sort of,” Holly replied. “But by putting some of her power into Walinda, Beshaba has made Walinda a part of her. When Walinda said she was the goddess’s proxy, she meant it in a very special way. Beshaba’s desires are now her own. She has no choice any longer but to serve Beshaba as Beshaba would wish her to.” Holly spun around suddenly and looked back down into the canyon. Joel turned as well.

  Directly in front of the tent stood three new arrivals. Flanked by two seven-foot-tall toadlike creatures was a very tall six-armed creature that appeared to be half-snake, half-woman. Walinda seemed to be greeting the snake-woman. Holly must have sensed them with her ability to detect evil.

  “Are those toad things hydroloths?” the bard asked, remembering Emilo’s description of the creatures in Sigil that had been sent to fetch Jas.

  Holly shook her head from side to side. “Hydroloths are much taller. Those things are hezrou, one of the true tanar’ri species. They have human arms. The snake-woman is—”

  “A marilith … yes, I know,” Joel said. “The strategists and tacticians of the Blood War.”

  Holly looked at the bard with surprise. “How is it you didn’t know about barghests, bar-lgura, or bulezau, but you know what a marilith is?” the paladin asked.

  “For the same reason he knew all about alu-fiends and probably knows all about succubi, yochlol, and lamia,” Jas said from just behind them.

  The winged woman hovered just beyond the ridge, out of reach of the bar-lgura guards, who growled at her and tilted their heads in puzzlement. No doubt they were confused by the appearance of a human woman with slasrath wings and were trying to determine if she was a denizen of the plane or not.

  “Relax,” Jas said to the tanar’ri. “I’m a friend of theirs.” She fluttered to the ridge and landed beside the bard and the paladin. “So how is Walinda?” she asked Joel. “On her deathbed, I hope.”

  “She’s Beshaba’s proxy,” Holly explained.

  “Yes, I heard you talking,” Jas replied. “I’ve been hovering overhead since you came up here. Forgive me for flying off, but if I see Walinda again, I’m likely to lose my self-control and wring her scrawny little neck until her forked tongue pops out of her vicious mouth.”

  “She knows you’re here,” Joel pointed out.

  “Good. I hope she loses sleep over it,” Jas retorted.

  “Jas, you mustn’t try to attack her now,” Holly warned. “She isn’t the priestess of a dead god anymore. She can cast priest spells again, ones that could kill you in an instant. With Beshaba’s power inside her, she’s far stronger than ever before.”

  “Not that I ever succeeded in killing her when she was a mere mortal, unable to cast any magic at all,” Jas said bitterly.

  With no comforting reply to offer her friend, Holly changed the subject. “What did you mean about Joel knowing about mariliths for the same reason he knew about alu-fiends and succubi?” she asked.

  “Well, I’m assuming there are all sorts of books describing monsters and fiends in the library of that fancy barding college Joel attended as a boy,” Jas said. She draped a friendly arm around the bard’s shoulder. “Am I right, matey?” she asked Joel.

  “Yes, of course,” Holly said. “We had such a tome at the church where I learned to read and write,” the paladin said. “But why don’t you remember all the creatures?” she asked the bard.

  Joel could feel a blush rising to his face. “It’s not important,” he insisted.

  “Assuming boys haven’t changed that much since I was a girl,” Jas said, “I’ll bet that book in your church and the book in the barding college both open naturally to certain pages, usually pages with pictures of fiends and monsters who mimic the looks of very attractive women.”

  “It’s important to arm oneself with knowledge of an enemy to which one might be particularly susceptible,” Joel pointed out self-defensively.

  Holly laughed.

  “Too bad Walinda wasn’t in that book,” Jas said, giving the bard’s shoulders a sisterly squeeze.

  Joel had to nod in agreement. If he’d known when he’d first met Walinda what he knew now, he’d have never made any sort of alliance with her. Yet here he was, forced to do so again.

  Holly looked back down at the Bastion of Hate. “This isn’t good,” the paladin said grimly.

  “It’s Iyachtu Xvim’s realm,” Jas retorted. “It’s not supposed to be good.”

  “Not that,” Holly said. “This whole situation. It’s going to be a bloodbath.”

  “Of a bunch of evil, lawless creatures,” Jas pointed out.

  “It’s still not right,” Holly said, shaking her head, “whatever kind of creatures they are.”

  “You’re too softhearted,” Jas declared.

  “So only the just deserve justice? Only the good deserve goodness? Is that what you think?” Holly asked sadly.

  “That’s right,” Jas replied. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in her tone, but her voice cracked, and Joel knew she was thinking of Walinda’s torture and murder of her friends.

  “Holly, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Joel said. “Walinda is going to use those creatures, and they’re letting themselves be used.”

  “So what now?” Jas asked.

  “I presume the marilith is advising Walinda on how best to attack. When they’ve come to a decision, we attack.”

  “We should be there to hear their plans. Maybe we can influence them,” Holly said, taking a step in the direction of the canyon floor.

  “Not me,” Jas said. “I’m not going to be involved in any plan of Walinda’s. If she knows what’s good for her, she won’t trust me in any event. I’ll make my own plans for this fight. When you’re ready to begin, you let me know. Send out a ray of light from the finder’s stone in my direction and I’ll join you. Just make sure you’re not with Walinda when you summon me.”

  The winged woman took off from the ridge and disappeared into the darkness.

  Holly began sliding back down into the canyon. Joel followed behind more slowly, distracted by a new worry. Holly hadn’t been looking at Jas before she’d flown off, so the paladin hadn’t noticed what Joel had seen. Jas’s eyes had glowed like an owl’s—the way they did when the dark stalker was taking control of her. The bard said nothing to the paladin, because he wasn’t certain he hadn’t imagined it; it might have been a trick of the malignant red light that pervaded the atmosphere.

  Even if I’m right, he thought, there isn’t a thing I can do about it.

  Act Three

  Scene 3

  When Holly and Joel went to look at the Bastion of Hate, Emilo remained behind to keep an eye on Walinda. No one in the party had bothered to explain to the kender why they all seemed to dislike the priestess so, but upon listening to her, the kender had a pretty good idea. Walinda was not nice at all. Furthermore, Emilo hadn’t cared for the way she had appropriated their flyin
g carpet.

  Walinda stepped into the pavilion and ordered one of the bar-lgura to bring her the carpet. Emilo followed the hulking tanar’ri inside. When the tanar’ri left, the kender settled himself in a dark corner and watched.

  He had no fear of being detected. The gift he’d been given, by a mysterious old man at the end of the magical vortex by which he had arrived in this world, seemed to be holding up well. As long as Emilo kept quiet, wasn’t introduced by a companion, and didn’t attack anyone, he went completely unnoticed. The hardest part was keeping quiet. The gift had served him well in Sigil until he’d run into Jas.

  The mysterious old man had warned him that anyone from Krynn would be able to notice him. Jas had surprised him. Emilo had never seen any winged women on his home world of Krynn, but Jas had indeed noticed him, even though she claimed she came from Joel’s world. It was possible she was confused about that. Whatever the case, her knowledge of his presence had turned out all right.

  Finder was another exception, which Emilo had to think about for a while. In the end, he decided that since Finder was aware of everything that happened around Joel, and since Emilo had talked to Joel, that explained things. When Emilo had left Joel’s side to eavesdrop on Finder and Tymora and Winnie, neither the gods nor the halfling had seemed to take notice of him. Selune had been the ultimate test. When Emilo had surprised the elder goddess with his presence, then he was certain the gift was still working. The way Holly had started when he had finally greeted her in the Abyss had been one more confirmation.

  Since the bar-lgura had captured Joel and Holly but ignored the kender, Joel and Holly seemed to have figured out Emilo’s secret. They had been careful to keep their eyes away from Emilo and had not introduced him to Walinda. So now Emilo was free to spy on the priestess.