Tymora's Luck Read online

  After a few minutes, Joel felt his stomach drop out from under him, which he hoped meant the phoenix was landing and hadn’t released Beshaba in midair. A moment later all sense of motion ceased.

  The bard heard a man’s voice, loud but muffled by the fabric of Beshaba’s gown, order someone else, “Hurry, before she regains consciousness. Get her into the fusion chamber.”

  Something growled. Joel felt Beshaba being jostled about, then set down. There was the sound of wheels rolling on a wooden floor, and then the rolling gradually stopped.

  The goddess stirred and moaned softly. Suddenly she gasped and leapt to her feet. Joel could feel her pacing about. He remained very still, unsure whether or not he wanted to draw attention to himself.

  Beshaba screamed, “Show yourself, Lathander, you arrogant peacock! I know you’re here.”

  There was no reply.

  “I’ll use my power to bring your puny realm collapsing about your head,” Beshaba declared.

  Still there was no reply.

  “Rat,” Beshaba muttered, and from the pocket of her gown, she drew Joel out by the scruff of his neck. “Thought I’d forgotten about you, didn’t you? No such luck for you, bard.”

  Joel looked around. He and Beshaba were alone in a stone-walled room with a single high window, covered with bars. Joel could see no door. Either they’d been shoved into the room through a magical portal that had now closed or the door was well hidden.

  Upon one wall was a wheel of torture, painted in brilliant colors. In a far corner, beneath a chain fastened to the wall, Joel saw an urn, a scepter, and a pile of what looked like human bones. Otherwise the room was bare.

  Beshaba motioned with her fingers, and Joel felt his body stretch and contort until he had transformed back into a man.

  “Thank you, my lady,” he said, anxious to let the goddess know he was grateful she had not destroyed him when she had the chance.

  Mercy was not on Beshaba’s mind, however. With her godly strength, she slammed him against the wheel of torture and forced his arms and then his legs into manacles fastened to the wheel.

  “Now we will discuss why I was brought here,” the goddess said, stepping back from the wheel.

  “I assure you, my lady, I have no idea,” Joel insisted.

  “The paladin was your companion. She signaled for the phoenix to come. Do you expect me to believe that you knew nothing of her plans?”

  “It’s true, my lady,” the bard said. He chose his words carefully, aware that each one might be his last. “Lord Finder told me to escort you to the spire. Lord Lathander must have given Holly other instructions.”

  Beshaba pulled out her dagger and hurled it at Joel. It buried itself deep in the wood of the wheel, inches from the bard’s face. “Do you know where we are?” she asked.

  “I was in your pocket when we arrived, my lady. I did not see where the phoenix landed.”

  Beshaba stepped forward to retrieve her dagger.

  “This room is like the dungeon in the Blood Tor, but there is no door,” Beshaba said. “Why was I brought here?” she demanded, holding her dagger at Joel’s throat.

  Joel took a deep breath, trying to control himself. “I do not know, my lady.”

  Beshaba gave the wheel a nudge and it began to spin. Joel felt his stomach churn as he was turned upside down, then right side up once more.

  “I am not very talented at throwing daggers,” Beshaba said. “I hope you’re feeling lucky, bard.” She stepped back and tossed her dagger once more. It landed beside Joel’s wrist, close enough to nick his flesh.

  “What is Lathander’s purpose?”

  “Lady Beshaba, you accomplish nothing with this petty game,” Joel retorted, barely managing to keep his tone civil as his stomach churned from the motion of the wheel.

  “Petty game?” Beshaba growled. She stepped forward and grabbed at her dagger, stopping the wheel’s spinning. “It is not I playing petty games, but Xvim and Lathander and Finder. My power leaks from my very being. It is being sucked away. Do you know what that feels like, bard? Perhaps when you come closer to kissing death you will understand. Now, tell me what you know.”

  “I don’t know anything,” Joel declared again. “Finder isn’t involved. I don’t know what Xvim’s or Lathander’s plans are.”

  Beshaba snapped her fingers, and a double-pronged goad and a barb-tipped scourge appeared in her hands. “For some reason, I feel less weak now, and when I use my powers, it does not leak into the earth. What has changed? Why has some of my strength been returned to me?”

  “I don’t know, my lady.”

  Beshaba lashed out with the barbed scourge, striking Joel about the shoulders and chest and tearing his shirt and tunic. Large welts appeared on his upper arms. Joel gasped with the pain.

  “Lady Beshaba, I could lie and start making up things,” the bard said, “but it wouldn’t help you learn what your enemies have planned.”

  Beshaba blew on the goad, and it glowed as if it had been heated in coals. “I would be interested in the lies you tell, bard. For in every lie, they say, is a grain of truth.”

  “I don’t know anything,” Joel whispered, closing his eyes at the sight of the heated goad.

  “Beshaba!” a woman’s voice shouted. “Leave the mortal be.”

  Joel opened his eyes with surprise. Tymora stood in a doorway that had appeared out of nowhere. The bard allowed himself a silent sigh of relief. Lady Luck held a long sword, much like the one Winnie had given to Jas. The goddess of good luck stepped forward, gracefully blocking Beshaba from the bard.

  “Is it not enough that your treachery has weakened me and all my faithful on Toril? Now you must torment a priest of a new godling. To what end, Beshaba?”

  “My treachery?” Beshaba shrieked, jabbing her heated goad at Tymora’s face. Lady Luck parried the attack with her sword, and streaks of lightninglike energy sparked off the surface of her blade.

  “It is your allies who betrayed me,” Beshaba snarled. “They brought me to this place. When I reached out and sensed it was your power draining me, I did not believe it. Like a fool, I thought you to be incapable of such treachery. But you and those peacocks, Lathander and Finder, have allied with Xvim.”

  Beshaba lashed out with her scourge at Tymora’s legs, but Tymora leapt aside gracefully.

  “That’s preposterous,” Tymora declared, slicing at the scourge with her sword. Beshaba twisted her body and blocked the blow with her goad. More bolts of energy flashed off the tip of Tymora’s blade.

  “When I reached out, I sensed it was your power draining me. “I have been your prisoner here for days.”

  “You lie!” Beshaba snarled. “I do not even know where ‘here’ is.”

  Joel decided it was time to speak up. “While I don’t really know for sure,” the bard said, “if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say we were somewhere in Elysium, since that’s where Lathander’s realm is.”

  “Yes!” Beshaba declared, slashing and smashing furiously at Tymora with both weapons. “Now this slave speaks the truth.”

  With amazing reflexes, Tymora blocked each of Beshaba’s attacks. “You have addled the mortal’s brain with your tortures,” Lady Luck insisted. “He does not know what he is saying.”

  “Speak more truth, slave,” Beshaba shouted and threw her goad like a spear over Tymora’s head. The goad’s prongs struck Joel’s right thigh, piercing and searing his flesh at the same time. Joel struggled to fight back the pain.

  Tymora slammed her body into Beshaba’s, knocking her farther away from Joel. Lady Luck got her foot caught in a strand of Beshaba’s goad and tripped, but she fell into Beshaba with her full weight. Both goddesses fell to the floor in a tangle of thrashing arms and legs. Beshaba squeezed at Tymora’s throat with her free hand.

  Joel recovered some of his senses and realized he must convince both goddesses that they were both victims or this struggle could go on endlessly.

  “It’s true, Lady Tymora,” the b
ard cried out. “It was Lord Lathander’s paladin who summoned the phoenix that abducted Lady Beshaba. It must have brought us back to his realm.”

  Tymora jerked her head back and rolled away from Beshaba. “If it is true that Lathander abducted Beshaba, then he did so to make her return my power,” Lady Luck declared.

  “So how have you come to be in the same prison with Lady Beshaba?” Joel asked. “Lady Selune and Lord Finder wouldn’t tell us where you were, but they wouldn’t have delivered you to Lady Beshaba. They would have entrusted you to Lord Lathander’s care.”

  Tymora hesitated before she answered. “Perhaps I must be near her to regain my power,” she said, though her voice was uncertain.

  “But Lady Beshaba is as weakened as you are,” Joel pointed out. “When you fought, you were evenly matched. Neither of you could defeat the other. Someone has drained both of you.”

  Tymora and Beshaba both stood up, keeping a wary eye on one another.

  “Beshaba must be faking her weakness to confuse you,” Tymora said.

  “Lady Beshaba’s church and faithful are also weakened. Her bad luck has leaked out across the Realms just as yours has.”

  “It’s a trick,” Tymora said.

  “Could such a trick fool Lady Selune?” Joel asked. “For it was she who told us this news.”

  Tymora said nothing for several moments.

  “Why did you say that I had allied myself with Xvim?” she asked Beshaba.

  “Because Lathander is your ally, and he appears to have allied with Xvim,” Beshaba explained.

  “That’s impossible. What proof do you have that Xvim is involved in any of this?” Tymora demanded.

  “Xvim sent creatures to attack me in my realm,” Beshaba said. “He must have been trying to force me to use my power,” Beshaba said. “I went to confront him in his realm, but he was nowhere to be found. I sent the Bastion of Hate tumbling down Mount Chamada, and still the little weasel did not appear.”

  “Is this true?” Tymora asked Joel.

  “Lord Finder and Lady Selune sensed the attack, my lady,” Joel confirmed. “And I witnessed the destruction of Xvim’s fortress. Xvim seems to be missing or perhaps in hiding.”

  “You must be mistaken about Lathander,” Tymora insisted.

  “I know the stench of Lathander’s paladins,” Beshaba growled.

  “It’s possible that Holly was misled somehow,” Joel said softly.

  “Misled? How?” Beshaba asked.

  “Perhaps someone like Xvim sent her a false vision, or he found a neutral minion to impersonate one of Lathander’s servants,” Joel suggested.

  It was Beshaba’s turn to appear thoughtful. Joel took advantage of the moment to ask Tymora, “Could you please let me down, my lady?”

  Tymora stepped forward, but Beshaba moved to block her. “I still have no proof that you are not faking your loss of power. I cannot trust this slave, since he is priest of your lackey. The two of you together might overpower me.”

  “Lady Beshaba,” Joel said. “You and Lady Tymora are trapped in this place together, put here by some common enemy. If you do not ally at least temporarily, you will no doubt fall to this enemy. Undoubtedly this enemy, whoever he is, is counting on you two to distrust each other while he finishes draining off your power.”

  “Perhaps,” Beshaba said. “But that is still no reason to release you.”

  “I was hidden in your pocket when we arrived. I don’t think whoever locked you in here realizes I’m here. I could be your secret weapon,” Joel suggested.

  Beshaba tilted her head and smiled. It was obvious Joel had chosen the just the right words. “Secret weapon.” The Maid of Misfortune laughed. “Very well,” she said, giving Tymora a nod.

  Lady Luck released Joel from his bonds and removed the goad piercing his thigh. As quickly as possible, she healed the wounds Beshaba had inflicted on his body. Her touch not only removed his pain, but left him feeling mildly refreshed.

  “Thank you,” the bard whispered to Tymora.

  “Well, what now?” Beshaba asked. “You say you have been here for days. How might we escape this place?”

  Tymora shrugged. “I was unconscious all the while. I only awoke a short time ago. I was surrounded by chaos, matter without order, which, like that from the plane of Limbo, I could shape with my mind. When I heard your voices, I imagined a hallway and a door to reach you.”

  “When we first arrived here,” Joel said, “I heard someone order someone else to put Lady Beshaba into the fusion chamber. What’s a fusion chamber?”

  Tymora and Beshaba looked at one another with a puzzled expression.

  “I don’t know,” Tymora admitted.

  “Nor I,” Beshaba said. “I, too, was surrounded by chaos when I first awoke,” Beshaba said, “but I, too, found I could arrange it about me. I expected to be in a prison. Perhaps that is why it looked like my dungeon in the Blood Tor, even down to the detail of the bones and scepter of the wizard Zorn.”

  The Maid of Misfortune closed her eyes for a moment. Instantly the room transformed into an underground temple dedicated to Beshaba, lit by two braziers. Joel felt a breeze from a slanted shaft near the ceiling.

  Something white beside the stag’s antlers on the altar caught Joel’s eyes. He reached out and picked it up. “Lady Beshaba,” he asked curiously, “why did you imagine an egg was here?”

  “I did not imagine any such thing,” Beshaba replied.

  Joel examined the egg by the light of the brazier.

  “What do you see?” Tymora asked.

  “The shell is covered with fine lines, but it doesn’t seem to be cracked,” Joel said. He tapped and broke the egg on the side of the brazier and let its contents slide into the burning fire.

  “How odd. There are two yolks,” Tymora noted.

  Act Four

  Scene 3

  Guilt-ridden that she had endangered Joel and faced with Finder’s wrath, Holly lowered her head and sobbed like a child.

  The paladin’s tears did not soften the god’s mood. “No tears,” Finder snapped. “Like a desert will your eyes and heart be until my priest is returned.”

  Holly looked up fearfully. Finder’s curse removed the tears from her cheeks and the corners of her eyes.

  “Now tell me why you summoned the phoenix,” Finder ordered.

  “Dawnbringer Aurora told me I was to collect whatever materials Sirrion of the Flowing Flame needed for the spell he was casting with Lord Lathander,” the paladin explained.

  “Sirrion?” Jas asked. “Would this be Emilo’s Sirrion, the one who nearly got us killed in the fetch’s lair?”

  “I don’t know,” Holly whispered.

  “Who’s Dawnbringer Aurora?” Emilo asked.

  “Lathander’s proxy,” Finder said. “A very powerful priestess. Go on, paladin,” he instructed Holly.

  “Dawnbringer Aurora and Lord Sirrion said the spell would right an ancient wrong. Lord Sirrion sent me to fetch an odd assortment of things, symbols of bad luck and good, including chickens and an old coin from Myth Drannor and a rose from the Desertsmouth Mountains and a blue crystal ball that Dawnbringer Aurora kept in a locked box in the temple in Morning Glory. He set them on an altar. Then Lord Sirrion sent me to fetch Lady Beshaba. He didn’t think I could do it, but Dawnbringer Aurora said Lord Lathander had every confidence in me. I didn’t think I could do it either, so I asked Dawnbringer Aurora how. She gave me the holy symbol made of red glass and told me it would summon a phoenix, who would grab Lady Beshaba and bring her to Lord Sirrion. She told me not to be afraid for myself or the phoenix because Lady Beshaba would be very weak when I stepped through the gate to the Abyss.”

  “But when you stepped through the gate, Beshaba wasn’t there,” Finder said. “She’d already fled.”

  Holly nodded. “So I went with Joel and Jas and Emilo to find her in Gehenna, and Lord Lathander sent me a vision telling me to help Walinda so I could reach Beshaba. I didn’t summon the phoenix
right away because Walinda said nothing could get in or out of the Bastion of Hate except through the gate.”

  “But when you reached the Outlands, you couldn’t find the summoning stone in your backpack because Emilo had it,” Finder said. “But the moment he returned it, you used it, even though Beshaba had threatened Joel’s life if you did not protect her.”

  There was such hard fury in Finder’s tone that Jas felt she should say something in Holly’s defense. “Surely Lathander won’t let Joel come to any harm,” she said.

  “That is, assuming he is alive by the time the phoenix delivers Beshaba to Lord Sirrion,” the god growled.

  “But you can still sense him, right?” Jas asked. “With that god sense you have?”

  Finder closed his eyes. “He is over Elysium, flying toward Morning Glory.”

  “All right,” Jas said. “So he’s not dead yet. We go to Elysium—”

  “No!” Finder gasped. He opened his eyes. “He’s gone! I can’t sense him any longer!”

  Fearing the absolute worst, Jas shoved Holly aside and placed herself between the god and the paladin.

  “You have to be able to sense him,” Jas insisted, putting her hands on Finder’s arms. “Even if he’s died and become a petitioner, you would sense him in Fermata.”

  “That witch has killed him,” the god screamed at Holly, “and it’s your fault!”

  Dark clouds filled with lightning rolled toward them.

  Jas stepped backward as Finder moved toward the paladin. The god tried to push Jas aside, but the winged woman clung to his sleeves. “Finder, you’re still pretty new at this god thing. You could be wrong. Don’t do something you’ll regret,” Jas begged.

  “Lord Finder,” a voice called out from behind the god. “Wait, please.”

  Finder whirled around. Two persons stood there. One was a statuesque blonde woman wearing a white gown of sheer fabric, and the other was a tall, pale warrior with cat eyes.