Finder's bane h-15 Page 25

  "Didn't you care about Jas or Holly?" Joel asked with a stab of irritation.

  "Yes, but not enough to risk you. That's why I'm going to Sigil with you, because I can't bear to risk having you going in alone."

  "How will you be able to do that?" Joel asked, suddenly uneasy, remembering that Jedidiah had said he had a reckless trick that might get him into the City of Doors.

  "First do me a favor. Sing me the tulip song."

  Joel's scrunched his face up in confusion.

  "Humor me," Jedidiah asked.

  The Rebel Bard sighed. He cleared his throat. Then he sang, no longer hesitating over the oddness of the tune or the words. He sang the song with confidence from beginning to end.

  "Excellent," Jedidiah said. He stepped out of the pavilion and pulled the saurial's half of the finder's stone from his boot.

  Jedidiah uttered some words completely unknown to Joel. Then he began singing a scale, each note perfect and distinct, his voice rising over and over again. As he sang, his body began to steam, just as it had when Joel had watched him store his power into his own half of the finder's stone. Now, instead of blue, the steam was a myriad of colors, ranging through the whole spectrum, as if a rainbow were flowing from his body and being sucked up by the stone.

  Joel watched in fascination until Jedidiah swayed and nearly fell forward into the pond. The young bard leapt up and steadied his god with his hands on his arms. Jedidiah looked exhausted. He also looked old-not as old as when Joel had first met him, but older than he had appeared moments ago. There was something else odd about him. Somehow, to the young priest, he no longer seemed like Finder.

  'Jedidiah," Joel asked in a frightened whisper, "what did you just do?"

  "Since gods can't get into Sigil, I stopped being a god," the old man explained. "Remember when I told you that the stolen half of the finder's stone holds the power that give me the godly abilities to sense what's going on around me, and around you, and the ability to teleport and to cast any spell?"

  Joel nodded.

  Jedidiah held up the finder's stone. "Well, now this half of the stone contains the power to use all the abilities that I had left-all my remaining godly endowments: my ability to grant you spells, my ability to shapeshift, even my immortality. Now I should be able to get into Sigil… I hope."

  "But-but-" Joel stammered, "how could you be so reckless? What if something happens to you? You could die!"

  "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Jedidiah said. "But if it does, then this can help you to resurrect me. Just as the Hand of Bane can restore Bane, this stone will restore me. You and Copperbloom must take the stone to the astral plane, find my body, and sing the song for my rebirth."

  "Why couldn't you just let me go to Sigil alone with Walinda?" Joel asked in exasperation. He pulled his hands way from Jedidiah's arms. "Don't you think I can handle the job?"

  "Joel, there are going to be protections around the Hand of Bane. Some guardian, probably several. That's why Bane needs us to get it. Why risk his priestess's life when he can risk mine or yours? And besides that danger, you'd still have Walinda to contend with. She's a vicious, selfish woman, determined to have her way. She maybe without spells, but she is by no means powerless. She would arrange some way to keep you for herself whether you were willing or not. Or if Bane requested it, she would relish sacrificing you, in the most horrible manner imaginable, to gain his favor."

  "But you're mortal now. You're taking the same risks," Joel argued.

  Jedidiah's shoulders sagged like a beaten man. Ten years ago, when I became a god, all I really wanted was immortality. Well, immortality plus eternal youth. I hadn't planned on becoming a god. It just happened. I'm not saying I wasn't pleased, but until that moment in the desert when you called on me, I'd never really understood what being a god meant. Joel, there isn't any point in my being a god without you. Not to me"

  Joel looked down, embarrassed by Jedidiah's confession.

  "Anyway, now we travel just as friends," Jedidiah said. "I hope."

  Joel looked up and smiled. "Always," he said.

  Jedidiah held out the finder's stone. "You have to carry this now. I trust you to do a better job holding on to it than I did holding on to the other half."

  Joel took the stone. It felt warm to the touch. Inside, a tiny light seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Joel tucked the stone into his shirt. He and Jedidiah spent the rest of the morning singing songs in the garden.

  Walinda woke shortly before it was time for them to leave. If she was surprised to see Joel, she didn't show it. At Jedidiah's suggestion, they made no mention of the abduction.

  Shishi accompanied them to the Hall of Confused Dreams, where they would find the portal to Sigil. Walinda was quiet and sullen, as if she really were suffering from a hangover.

  As they approached the door to Room, Jedidiah drew out the key he'd bribed from Miss Pan Ho. He unlocked the door. The room was empty save for a shimmering gray portal against one wall.

  Shishi blinked by the doorway. "Thanks for the songs, Finder," the spirit said. "Er-priest of Finder," he added quickly.

  Walinda, her eyes closed, appeared oblivious to the exchange.

  "Farewell, Shishi. Until we meet again," Jedidiah said, bowing to the lion-dog spirit.

  Shishi twinkled once, then zipped away.

  Jedidiah shut the door and locked it, leaving the key on the floor just before the door. Then he turned about to face the magical portal to Sigil. He motioned for Walinda to step through first.

  The priestess disappeared in the portal as if she had been swallowed by quicksand.

  "Let me go through next," Jedidiah said, "just so I'm sure you're not there alone with Walinda, in case I can't get through."

  Joel nodded. Jedidiah stepped through the portal and disappeared just as Walinda had.

  The Rebel Bard took a deep breath and followed his Mend through the doorway into the city of Sigil.

  Fifteen

  Sigil

  The three questing adventurers found themselves on a sandstone-paved street between two rows of dingy, cramped stone houses with iron bars covering the windows. The wall from which they emerged was covered with a collage of tattered paper sheets, each imploring the reader to purchase some item or other for reasons of health, wealth, or love. Joel placed his hand on the wall and discovered that it was solid from this side. That was just as well, since the chaos all around them had no place in the Palace of Judgment. People and creatures of all sorts bustled through the streets on foot or in sedan chains, or even a few in carriages drawn by haggard, long-eared ponies. None of the passersby seemed to take any care to avoid any of the other living obstacles in their way. They simply shoved through the crowd or ran it down.

  More disturbing than the rudeness of its citizens was the city's air. While the air of the Outlands had seemed to Joel fresh and new, the air of Sigil tasted used and thin, as if breathed by a million lungs and tainted by a hundred diseases. Scents of every sort assailed Joel's nose: food, sweat, sewage, smoke… mostly smoke. The light fog hanging in the air was gray with smoke. Joel found it necessary to breathe twice as fast as normal. Jedidiah tried to take a deep breath and was caught up in a coughing fit.

  Walinda, apparently oblivious to the foul air, was looking at the buildings that surrounded them. "Everything is leaning in toward us," the priestess remarked.

  Joel and Jedidiah surveyed the street. Indeed, everything did seem to tilt in their direction, as if they were in the bottom of a great bowl. Joel realized they were inside a torus-the ring they had seen from the Outlands. The city of Sigil curled up around them wherever they were, and the buildings that were built perpendicular to the inner surface of the torus would always look tilted unless the visitors were standing inside the buildings or very near to them. Joel looked straight up, hoping to see the part of the city that must hang above them, but the fog obscured the view in every direction.

  The passersby, mostly cloaked and hooded again
st the chill of the air, completely ignored them-except for one. A blue-skinned elf with pointed teeth, wearing a cloak with great padded shoulders, sidled up beside Joel. "Core, guv'nor. Yer orbing the scenery," he said. "You clueless?"

  Puzzled, Joel turned and addressed the elf. "Excuse me?"

  "Wot, yer barmy?" the elf asked, tilting his head slightly. "I asked if you were clueless, cutter. Newly arrived to the Cage. Out-of-towner, by the fresh smell on you. Looking for a kip and a bit of a ride, I bet."

  The three adventurers exchanged questioning looks.

  "Do either of you have magic to understand his tongue?" Walinda asked.

  "I don't think a spell would help," Jedidiah grumbled. "This is the local dialect." Passersby continued to ignore them, save for the elf. "Ah! Definitely clueless!" the elf exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "Fortunately for you lot, I'm a most well-lanned tout and knight of the post in the Cage, which is the native name for Sigil, berk. Top-shelf, I am. Guaranteed to get you where you need to be for a bit of jink or a sparkle. I got maps to all the major portals, the passwords of the best kips, and a full listing of all the factions. Can't tell the Dustmen from the Godsmen without one. I got a special today on holy relics. I got the toenails of Mordenkainen, the eye of Tiamat, the Hand of Bane, and the vorpal chiv of Arthur hisself-"

  Walinda laughed. "You have the Hand of Bane?" she asked, her tone implying she thought the possibility most improbable.

  "Of course," the elf replied, straightening with pride. "It's what every sod in the Cage is hunting for. Got it right in here." He patted a large pouch beneath his cloak. "Let's move to a blind and we can negotiate."

  "You'll be in the deadbook if you try that, berks!" a rasping, high-pitched voice cried out. A female dwarf barreled out of a doorway and plodded over to them. "He's in the cross-trade, looking for conies."

  The elf wheeled on her. "Bar that! I'm their tout here, and I resent your implication."

  The dwarf snorted. "You're just after their jink. Then you'll give 'em the laugh. Besides, everyone knows I have the Hand o' Bane."

  Jedidiah raised his eyebrows and glanced at Walinda. The priestess sneered but made no comment.

  "Shut yer bone-box!" the elf snapped. "I got the hand. You've got a piece of Vecna. At least that's what you told the last bit of berks you turned stag on."

  "Here's the dark of it," the dwarf growled to the elf. "You're on the peel, and peery peel at that. 'I got the Hand of Bane; just step inta the alley' indeed. They'd tumble to you in a dabus's heartbeat."

  "Scan this, rube," the elf snarled. 'These are my conies, and I'm gonna keep 'em. So sod off with that Hand of Bane bob and go to the mazes."

  Jedidiah took a step backward. The two natives failed to notice as they continued to argue in their nearly impenetrable native language. He set one hand on Joel's shoulder and the other on Walinda's. Priest and priestess looked back at the older man, who made a backward jerking motion with his head. Joel and Walinda stepped back from the disputing pair. Then all three stepped backward two more steps. Then, as one, the three spun about and stepped into the flow of the pedestrian traffic. Both elf and dwarf remained oblivious to the loss of their would-be customers.

  "Where are we headed?" the priestess asked.

  "For the moment, we're just heading away," Jedidiah replied. "Stay alert and don't gawk. That's probably what marked us as tourists."

  "Any other sage advice?" Walinda retorted sarcastically.

  Jedidiah shook his head wearily. "I've never been here before, but an old friend once gave me some pointers. Number one is if a woman wearing cutlery on her head walks towards you, turn and run in the opposite direction."

  They walked on for about half a mile, keeping their eyes forward, until the surrounding neighborhood improved. The streets here were free of debris and paved with white granite. The buildings were larger and less tightly squeezed together. The shouts from pedestrians on the streets were less vulgar. The gray fog, however, was just as dense.

  "What's this 'Hand o' Bane' look like?" Jedidiah asked Walinda, mimicking the speech of the dwarf.

  Walinda's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but after a moment's thought, she said, "I will show you." From inside her breastplate, she pulled out the page she'd stolen from the book in the Temple in the Sky. She unfolded the page and showed it to Joel and Jedidiah. Beneath some writing, in a language Joel could not read, there was a painting of a taloned hand.

  "The hand is about twice the size of an average man's hand," Walinda explained. "It is carved from obsidian. The claws are fashioned from pieces of garnet."

  "Now that you know what it looks like, try the stone," Jedidiah told Joel. "Look bored and indifferent, as if you're measuring the town for a sewer survey or something."

  Joel pulled out the saurials' half of the finder's stone. Walinda stared curiously, realizing it was identical to the half her master held, but she said nothing.

  Joel concentrated on the Hand of Bane, and a light beam immediately lanced from the gem off to their right and upward through the fog.

  "It must be in a tower," Walinda said.

  "Not necessarily," Joel replied. "The beacon could just be following the straightest line to another spot on the curve of the city." He slid the stone back inside his tunic.

  They couldn't follow the beam directly, so they meandered along the streets, trying to maintain the same general direction. Often they had to turn in a different direction to avoid buildings or dead ends. Finally they paused before a huge statue of a three-eyed horse surrounded by armed guards.

  "Better take another reading," Jedidiah suggested. "We could have gotten turned about some."

  They were indeed off the correct heading by several degrees. The angle of the light beam had lowered considerably-an indication, Joel thought, that they were getting closer. They corrected their direction and walked on.

  After they'd passed through what seemed like miles of meandering city streets, Joel drew out the finder's stone again. Now the angle of the beam was not very steep at all.

  "We're in the neighborhood," Joel whispered excitedly.

  "We're also being followed," Walinda said calmly. "Oh?" Jedidiah replied with a tone of disinterest.

  The tall, pale individual in heavy armor," the priestess of Bane said. "Wearing a skullcap helmet and a thin little sword. He's been with us for at least half a mile. To your right."

  Joel glanced to his right immediately. Jedidiah was more casual. The individual Walinda mentioned was talking to a fruit merchant, holding up a pear and examining it as if it were a diamond. His skin was as white as moonlight.

  "At the next intersection, let's turn left," Jedidiah suggested. "We'll see if we can lose him."

  Joel glanced back once they'd made the turn. The pale warrior was still following them. The adventurers increased their speed and turned left once more, then made a dash to the next corner and made yet another left turn.

  Joel looked back. "We've lost him," he said.

  They had almost reached the street where they'd taken their last reading when the tall, pale man popped around the corner just in front of them. Joel and Walinda started. Even Jedidiah looked surprised by his sudden appearance.

  "Excuse my imposition," their stalker said. He was choosing his words slowly, as if he wasn't speaking his native tongue. Besides being inhumanly pale, the man had cat's eyes and unusually long, slender fingers. "Are you priests of Finder or Bane?" he asked.

  Jedidiah sighed. He pointed to Joel and himself and said, "We're priests of Finder." Then he indicated Walinda. "She's a priestess of Bane."

  The pale man in armor bowed low. "I was told to expect you," he said. "And a fourth one, a dead one?"

  "He couldn't make it," Joel answered before Walinda could muddy the issue concerning the lich.

  "Very well," the pale man answered. "I am Bors. You are to come with me, please."

  "Excuse me," Joel said, "but why are we to come with you, please?" Bors smiled. "She wishes to see
you," he explained.

  "She?" Joel asked.

  "Come. She will explain all," the pale man insisted. "Please."

  Joel glanced at his companions. Walinda looked suspicious; Jedidiah merely shrugged.

  "Very well," Joel said. "We will come with you, please. Lead us to her, whoever she is." He fell in beside Bors. Jedidiah and Walinda followed.

  "I don't like this," the priestess muttered.

  "Neither do I," Joel replied, "but if someone knows about us, I'd rather know who and why than not know."

  Their new guide led them into an area with wider streets and even larger buildings, surrounded by iron fences. There were no vendors in the streets, and the pedestrians and sedan chairs moved along in a more sedate fashion. It had all the signs of being the neighborhood of the wealthy and noble.

  At the door to a modest house, at least compared to those that surrounded it, Bors halted. "She is here," he said.

  The three adventurers hesitated before the ornate doorway decorated with stone gargoyles and other monsters. Their guide motioned for them to enter.

  "If this is a trick," Walinda whispered, "and we are forced to flee and become separated, I will meet you near the big horse statue."

  Joel nodded.

  The door swung open suddenly to reveal a familiar figure wearing a bright red robe.

  "It's about time you got here. It seems like I've been waiting forever," Holly Harrowslough declared. She smiled at Joel and Jedidiah, ignoring Walinda. "Come on inside and I'll fill you in."

  The interior of the parlor into which Holly led them was spartan and neat. The walls were painted a flat white. The mantel and stonework about the fireplace were of white marble. The carpeting was white wool.

  The few pieces of furniture in the room were made of light-colored wood. The only splash of color in the room was a painting over the fireplace of a large red sphere, which seemed to hover in front of the wall.