Tymora's Luck Read online

  As the two gods argued, Emilo climbed up on the stone altar where Lord Sirrion’s attention was fixed on the crystals and glass spheres, which glowed and sparked with increasing brilliance. To Jas’s alarm, the kender began making all sorts of rude gestures and faces directly in front of the god of the Flowing Flame. He’s really pushing his luck, Jas thought as she watched Emilo caper about.

  Then Jas remembered with a start that Emilo said Fizz Something had made him unnoticeable except to people from Krynn. Sirrion was from Krynn, yet he obviously wasn’t noticing the kender.

  “It’s time, Lord Lathander,” Sirrion said, turning to face his fellow god.

  “Keep Lord Finder occupied,” Lathander ordered the Flowing Flame.

  Sirrion stepped between Finder and the fusion chamber as Lathander went to the altar and took up the blue crystal sphere.

  “Lathander, no!” Finder shouted. He made a rush for the altar, but Lord Sirrion grabbed him and held him fast.

  Holly was right behind the god. “My lord,” she whispered to Lathander, “must you do this? How can it be right if it must be done without the knowledge of your allies?”

  “I require your silence now, paladin,” Lathander said warningly.

  “But—”

  The Morninglord glared at Holly as if she were a creature from the Abyss. “I will not tolerate disobedience,” he said with a chill in his voice that could freeze the sun. The paladin collapsed to the floor, sobbing, unable to face her god’s wrath.

  Lathander held up the blue crystal sphere and began chanting Tyche’s name. Simultaneously shrieks of “No!” came from inside the fusion chamber as Beshaba and Tymora felt their souls begin to merge against their wills.

  Emilo, who still stood on the altar, placed himself squarely in front of the Morninglord and said boldly, “Excuse me, Lord Lathander.”

  When the kender spoke, Lathander pulled back as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “I realize you don’t want to be interrupted,” Emilo said, “but I really think you should know something.” The kender pointed directly at Lord Sirrion, who was grappling with Finder. “That god is a fraud. He is not Sirrion of the Flowing Flame.”

  Lathander looked at the kender with fury, but he glanced back uncertainly at Sirrion.

  “He’s not even from Krynn,” Emilo insisted. “There, I’ve done what I came to do,” the kender said, hopping down from the altar and running to Jas’s side.

  “This is ridiculous,” Lathander snapped. “If he’s not Sirrion, who is he?”

  “Now, there’s an interesting question,” Joel replied. “Can you think of another power who would want to impersonate Sirrion?”

  “One with an interest in destroying two goddesses and harming Lord Lathander’s reputation at the same time,” Finder suggested.

  “One who’d like to grab the power of those two goddesses for himself,” Jas guessed.

  Holly gasped with a horrible suspicion. “One who’s been missing from his realm for days, not even returning when Beshaba destroyed it,” she said as she looked up into Sirrion’s glowing green eyes and realized why they were familiar. She had seen eyes just like them on a statue in a temple of evil. “My lord,” the paladin shouted, “this impostor is none other than Iyachtu Xvim!”

  Lathander whirled around to face the accused. The god who called himself Sirrion had released Finder, but as soon as he let go, Finder had grabbed onto him. The other god growled, a low, feral noise full of hatred. In a burst of godly power, he threw Finder from him.

  “The farce is ended,” the god said, transforming into the figure of a man with black scales and shaggy black hair, wearing nothing but a loincloth. It was indeed Iyachtu Xvim. “I will take what I am owed,” he declared as he leapt across the tent to the altar, scattering the luck fetishes and startling the black cat who had sat so calmly through the whole proceedings. Xvim grabbed the pink rose and the old coin suspended magically over the altar.

  “That power is not for you!” Lathander shouted, grabbing at Xvim’s arm.

  The god of hatred slammed Lathander in the face with the heel of his hand. Stunned, the Morninglord dropped the blue crystal sphere and fell backward. Xvim spun about to leave the tent, but he tripped over the black cat, which howled in outrage. Both power keys flew from the evil god’s hands. Joel caught the rose and Jas caught the coin.

  “Lucky catches?” Jas wondered aloud.

  “And an unlucky trip,” Joel said, pointing to the portal leading into the fusion chamber where Beshaba and Tymora stood side by side. The goddesses had cast their magic out of the fusion chamber, protecting their power keys even though they themselves could not escape.

  Lathander leapt upon Xvim and held him down on the floor of the tent. Holly retrieved the blue crystal sphere.

  “Put Tyche’s power key back on the altar, Holly Harrowslough,” Lathander ordered.

  Holly stood up with the power key of the goddess her lord intended to resurrect and walked toward the altar.

  “So, knowing this isn’t really Sirrion doesn’t change your mind?” Emilo asked Lathander with surprise. “Even though he’s an evil god who lied to you?”

  Lathander glared at the kender, but then his face grew thoughtful. His head snapped around just in time to see Holly toss Tyche’s power key into the fusion chamber.

  Lathander’s eyes widened in surprise. In a shocked voice, he demanded of his paladin, “What have you done?”

  “Now Tymora and Beshaba can use Tyche’s power key to escape the fusion chamber,” Holly explained.

  “What compels you to disobey me?” Lathander asked in an amazed tone. “How dare you risk falling from my grace?”

  Tears flowed freely from Holly’s eyes. “It would be evil to join the goddesses against their will, my lord,” she said.

  In the fusion chamber, Tymora snatched up the blue sphere. The shimmering portal flashed with a bright light as the two goddesses flew out of the fusion chamber.

  Like hawks swooping down upon their prey, Tymora and Beshaba landed before Lathander and Xvim, who still lay locked together. Tymora slammed Tyche’s power key to the ground near Xvim’s head. The crystal blue sphere splintered into a thousand pieces, spraying both Xvim and Lathander with the shards.

  Offstage

  In the Prime Material Plane on the world known as Toril in Realmspace, Amber Wyvernspur cried out with surprise and then delight at the sudden appearance of her great-granduncle, Drone Wyvernspur, who carried a lantern and a picnic basket. He arrived by dimensional doorway some time after the children’s torches had burned out, but before panic had set in. Amber and the children had been in the dark long enough to sing fourteen rounds of a silly halfling song Cory had taught them.

  “You found us!” Amber cried out in relief. “I knew you would.”

  “I didn’t know I had lost you,” the shaggy old wizard retorted. He looked around at the collapsed ceiling disapprovingly. “What a mess you children have made,” he muttered. “You’ll be cleaning this up until you’re old enough to leave home. Of course, you could get out of the work if you want to leave home now,” he added with a dark look at Tavan, Toran, and Cory. Uncle Drone had an uncanny understanding of who was responsible for any mishaps that occurred in the family.

  “Are you going to take us home now, Uncle Drone?” Olivia asked.

  “Do I look like a pack mule?” the old wizard retorted. “I brought you something to eat,” he said, handing the basket to Cory.

  As her younger kin began to devour the sandwiches and fruit in the basket, Amber sat patiently while Uncle Drone examined her wounds. He spread some healing salve on them and then made her down a potion that tasted like peppermint.

  “Are our parents worried?” Tavan asked as he sipped a cup of tea.

  “Not really,” Drone said. “We’ve known something like this would happen for days now.”

  “What do you mean?” Toran asked, looking puzzled.

  “Mother Lleddew came to check on you a few d
ays ago,” the old wizard explained. “Apparently she had a vision that you were trapped in a cave. Since you were all snug in your beds at the time, we guessed it was some sort of future vision brought on by Tymora’s troubles. We’ve just been waiting for the shoe to drop, so to speak. Should have known you’d pick a day when we were all away, leaving your poor Aunt Dorath to fret about you.”

  “Aunt Dorath likes to fret,” Heather said.

  “Yes, well, your Uncle Steele likes to drink, but that doesn’t mean we should indulge him. Speaking of Steele, let’s have that key.”

  Heather pulled out the key to the crypt that she had taken from Uncle Steele’s sock drawer.

  Carrying Heather on his back and Olivia and Pars in his arms, the wizard left by another dimensional door, groaning all the way about how much weight they’d all put on. The other children had to wait until morning for the old wizard to replenish his spells. Amber often wondered if that wasn’t just an excuse to make them stay the night to teach them a lesson. She didn’t mind, however. She had a good time chatting with the guardian. The next day Uncle Drone, with Aunt Cat’s help, managed to bring everyone out from the crypt.

  Then the whole family began digging out the collapsed crypt and repairing the stonework. True to his threat, Drone saw that the children all helped to dig out the mess.

  Years later the Wyvernspur cousins would always refer to any sort of hard labor, like digging, as the fruits of Tymora’s luck, but it never kept any of them from calling on Lady Luck from time to time in the course of their adventures.

  Act Four

  Scene 7

  In the realm of Morning Glory, the two goddesses faced their tormentors. Lathander released his hold on Xvim, though whether he meant to hand him over to Tyche’s daughters, or was simply preparing to defend himself from attack Joel could not be certain.

  Iyachtu Xvim cackled fiendishly in the face of the wrath of Beshaba and Tymora. “The paladin’s foolish act has come too late to save you,” he gloated. “You cannot stop the fusion once it has begun. See how the chaos matter comes to bind you!”

  Xvim’s words appeared to be true. A wisp of the chaos matter drifted out of the fusion chamber and wrapped itself around both goddesses. As the others watched, transfixed, more chaos matter swirled out into the tent and began to weave a cocoon around Beshaba and Tymora.

  The goddesses’ bodies grew translucent and fluid like melting wax. Their torsos joined, then merged, until there was only one torso between the two of them. They had become a misshapen creature with four arms and legs struggling against the bonds of the chaos matter and two heads screaming in rage and pain.

  Tymora’s head cried out, “Lathander, help me, please!”

  “Lathander, do something!” Finder shouted. “Can’t you see they’re in agony?” he demanded.

  “Xvim is right,” Lathander said. “Once the spell has begun, there is no stopping it.”

  “There must be something you can do, my lord,” Holly said with a tone of desperation.

  “No,” Lathander answered. “The fusion chamber will not stop until it has united something that had previously been separated,” he insisted.

  “What if we threw a whole bunch of broken eggs into it?” Emilo asked.

  Lathander shook his head. “It must be something of power,” the god explained.

  “The finder’s stone?” Joel asked Finder excitedly.

  “It’s worth a try,” Finder agreed. He pulled his half of the stone from his boot, and Joel pulled his out from his shirt.

  “Ready … set … go!” Finder shouted.

  Together both halves of the finder’s stone arced through the air and into the portal. The portal flashed with a brilliant light. Immediately the chaos matter around Tymora and Beshaba fell away and streamed back into the fusion chamber like a river running into the sea.

  The partially merged Tymora and Beshaba squirmed and wriggled until they lost their balance and toppled onto the ground. The torso ripped in two, dripping chaos matter like ichor until Tymora and Beshaba emerged as two separate individuals.

  Beshaba stood and shook herself like a dog. From Joel’s hand, she grabbed the pink rose that held her power and disappeared.

  Tymora sat up and shook her head sadly at Lathander. Jas knelt beside the goddess and handed her the ancient coin from Myth Drannor. Tymora slid the coin down her shirt and sighed.

  “You know, I think there’s something wrong with the fusion chamber,” Emilo said. “I’m not sure, mind you, but I don’t think it’s supposed to look like that.”

  The others looked back at the portal to the fusion chamber. It had begun to glow with a brilliant white light.

  “It’s not properly calibrated to join the stone,” Xvim screamed. “It’s going to explode! Run!”

  “Grab Emilo!” Finder ordered Jas as he scooped up Joel.

  Tymora disappeared. Jas flew from the tent, with Finder close behind her.

  Last of all, Lathander snatched up Holly and fled.

  The blast from the fusion chamber expanded outward like a blossoming flower of solid light. The shock wave caught the fleeing Morninglord and his disobedient paladin and tossed them about like corks on a raging sea, propelling them across the god’s realm. Then a blast of sound shook their bodies. As Joel looked back, Lathander and Holly appeared to Joel as two black specks. Then the specks were gone.

  Slowly, but inexorably, the brilliant light faded. When the dust finally settled, a crater the size of a small town had appeared where there once had been a meadow.

  I don’t like opera at all. All that deception just rubs me the wrong way. It’s too much like real life.

  Vangerdahast

  Curtain Call

  The vision of Ayryn, the genasi scryer, was so lifelike that the Sensates had to shield their eyes from the explosion of the fusion chamber projected into the sensorium.

  Kenda Fretterstag rose to leave. “I was really looking forward to experiencing the creation of a new power,” she sighed.

  “You did get to witness a paladin disobey her god,” Bors pointed out.

  “Why, yes, I did,” Kenda noted. “Any chance you might risk your god’s wrath?”

  Bors frowned. While he had been proud of Holly’s strength of character, the thought of what she had risked filled him with fear.

  “Thought not,” Kenda taunted as she grabbed her fur coat and made her way to the exit.

  Ayryn continued to project the images of Lathander, Holly, Jasmine, Emilo, and Tymora. There was no sign of Joel or Finder. Though the others stood on the steps of Lathander’s temple, it appeared to the Sensates as if the gods and adventurers were sitting among the Sensates in the sensorium.

  Lathander and Holly Harrowslough stood off to one side, their image projected so that they appeared to stand beside Ayryn. They had been blasted from Lathander’s realm and had only just returned. They were engaged in earnest discussion. Now the Morninglord cupped Holly’s face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead. Apparently the god of beginnings had decided that his paladin’s good sense and stout heart outweighed her disobedience.

  Quellig, the tiefling wizard, sat up and leaned forward as Jasmine asked Emilo Haversack, “So, your friend Fiz Whatever made you unnoticeable to all but people from Krynn just so you could uncover Xvim’s fraud? Why? What’s it to him?”

  “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that,” the kender said. “The way Fizban explained it, gods from one world aren’t supposed to let gods from another world harm each other, whether they’re good or evil. It’s against the rules. It could start a war between the gods from Krynn and the gods from Toril. If it really was Sirrion helping Lathander to drain the power from Tymora and Beshaba, or some other god from Krynn impersonating Sirrion, Fizban was going to have to step in and make him stop. But since it wasn’t a god from Krynn, Fizban didn’t have to get involved. He didn’t want to get into an argument with Lathander if he could help it. That could start—”

  “
All right, all right,” Jas said. “I don’t need to know any more about the gods. What I want to know is, if you’re unnoticeable to everyone except people from Krynn, why is it that I can see you perfectly?” she asked. “I wasn’t born on Krynn.”

  “Actually, you were,” Tymora said, laying a hand on the winged woman’s shoulder. “Your mother and father took a spelljammer to Krynn, and you were born there before they returned to Toril.”

  “So Jas has been spelljamming since she was a baby,” Emilo said. “No wonder she likes the stars.”

  At that moment, Beshaba suddenly appeared in front of Lathander. “I’ve teleported here to share my gift with you, Lathander,” she said, and she gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. Then the Maid of Misfortune vanished again.

  The Morninglord looked mildly alarmed. “I don’t suppose you’d care to balance out Beshaba’s ill luck with a kiss of your own?” he asked Lady Luck.

  Tymora stepped back and pointed at Holly. “You were blessed with far more than your share of luck the day this girl entered your service,” she informed him.

  “Yes … I’ve come to realize that,” Lathander said.

  Finder and Joel appeared and approached the gods and mortals assembled on the temple stairs. Finder casually tossed the finder’s stone in the air and caught it again. The magic crystal was once again intact.

  “No sign of Xvim,” Joel reported. “We’ve searched everywhere.”

  “I can’t believe he let Beshaba destroy his bastion and didn’t raise a finger,” Tymora said.

  “He was playing for high stakes,” Finder said. “He couldn’t bring himself to abandon the evil deception he’d set up. If he had been successful, he would have possessed all of your power, Tymora, and all of Beshaba’s power as well. He never intended to return it to Tyche.”

  Tymora put a hand on Jas’s shoulder. “We have much to talk about,” she said. “Will you accompany me back to Brightwater?”