case.' Evaine tucked cloaks and blankets around Shal. 'Damn! I don't like the idea of a baby coming into this world so close to that blasted pool. But I don't have time to cast the spells to destroy it!' The frustration was visible on her face.
'Maybe there's something I can do,' Tarl offered. 'Ren, hold Shal for a little while. I just need a moment.' The cleric arose and strode over to the pit.
Tarl closed his eyes, communicating with his god. Without opening them, he swung the holy warhammer over his head, then flung it straight down into the foaming liquid. Not a drop sprayed up from the impact; instead, the hammer attracted the murk as it plunged downward.
The blue glow disappeared in the blackness. Tarl stood rooted, eyes closed, at the edge of the pit. Slowly, gradually, a pinpoint of blue broke the surface of the murk. The glow spread to the edges of the pool as the swirling inkiness boiled.
Tarl stood in the azure glow, deep in meditation, for several moments. Then the boiling and gurgling in the pit slowed. The cleric opened his eyes to see the liquid receding into the crescent pit. As he watched, the fetid soup sank lower and lower until the pool was drained. At the bottom, Tarl could make out a hole in the stone, shaped like the holy hammer. A low rumble from deep in the earth vibrated the tower.
'Praise to Tyr!' he shouted. Miltiades bowed his head and murmured a prayer of thanks.
Tarl hurried back to the others, sliding into position behind his wife. A blue glow again appeared in the pit, and the cleric raised his hand to seize the hammer. But instead of returning to Tarl, the hammer appeared in the hand of Miltiades.
'My time has come,' he said serenely. 'Tyr now summons me to his side. I have redeemed myself in his eyes. Now I will know eternal peace. Thanks to all of you who have been my friends and aided my quest. I will ask Tyr to favor you.'
The paladin lifted his eyes to the ceiling. In a heartbeat, his bones and armor dissolved to dust. The glowing warhammer hovered in the air for a moment, then soared upward to punch through the ceilings and exit the tower. The structure rumbled.
The ghostly voice of Miltiades echoed in the chamber. 'Tyr's hammer will not return to you, Tarl. But know that your child is destined to search out the artifact in one of Tyr's greatest quests. It will be your job to teach the babe the ways of our god. Know that Tyr smiles on all of you.' The voice faded as the chamber shook.
'He will be missed,' Evaine said. 'But the pool is destroyed and the child will be safe. Now, let's concentrate on helping Shal through this birth.'
A worried look darted across Tarl's face. 'Have you ever done this before?' he asked the sorceress. His astonishment was evident-a woman he had never met was about to deliver his child.
'Trust me. I'm nearly a hundred years old,' Evaine returned. Tarl frowned, but Ren nodded at him in support of her reply. Gamaliel's purring comforted Shal, and she stroked his fur absently.
As Evaine busied herself with Shal's delivery and gave instructions to the others, a glow gradually grew in the room, bathing the companions in a violet light. Shal's labor screams echoed in the chamber and carried up the stairway.
Marcus's red tower rattled and vibrated on all sides of the companions. Inside and out, stones shook loose and smashed to the ground.
22
The magic that Marcus and the fiend had created months ago to hold Phlan hostage wavered and collapsed without the energy of the pool to sustain it. The life forces of Phlan's battle-hardened citizens took control and forced the city to be transported back to its home on the Moonsea. As Phlan was torn from the cavern deep in the earth, Marcus's tower collapsed into a mound of red dust.
Two days later, after recovering under Shal and Tarl's hospitality, the companions gathered in front of a warm fire in Denlor's Tower. Evening was creeping in. Once again a glorious sunset filled the skies to the west of Phlan. The clouds and storms had dispersed with the destruction of the pool. The city was filled with a joy and energy it had not known in a long time.
Sitting in front of the crackling flames, the companions took turns recapping their journey for Shal and Tarl as they sipped one of Evaine's herbal brews. The scents of cinnamon, vanilla, and rose hips wafted about the room, mingled with wood smoke.
In his lap, Tarl held a tiny bundle wrapped in a purple blanket. A dusting of red hair peeked out of the top of the wrap, and in rare moments, two eyes as blue as the Moonsea fluttered open to gaze about. The baby sighed and gurgled as he relaxed in his father's arms.
'You know, you're going to have to think of a name for your son pretty soon. You can't just call him 'he' for the rest of his life.' Ren looked proudly at the baby boy he was privileged to call nephew.
Shal laughed. 'We've been so busy with everything that's happened to Phlan that we never had time to think about names. And we weren't expecting him to arrive quite so soon. But he's here now, and he's healthy.'
Evaine set down her mug and walked over to Tarl. Kneeling next to his chair, she stroked the baby's head and spoke softly to him. 'Your parents are going to have some amazing tales to tell you when you grow up. You've seen more already than most people see in a lifetime.' The baby slept contentedly. Evaine looked at Shal. 'With all the spells you cast while you were pregnant, this child could have some interesting magical powers. It's not often that a sorceress has a baby.' Tarl offered the baby to Evaine, and she gladly tucked him into her arms, rocking him gently. 'I don't think there's any question this child has a special destiny.'
Gamaliel snoozed in front of the fire. Seeing Evaine with the baby, he rolled onto his back, paws flopping about, expecting to have his tummy rubbed. Shal gladly indulged him. 'You're lucky to have him, Evaine. Some wizards get toads for familiars.' The cat purred loudly. Humility wasn't part of his nature.
Ren's eyes widened over his mug of tea. 'If what Miltiades said is right, the gods have big plans for your son. It must be a little intimidating to know that so much will be expected of him.'
Tarl and Shal both nodded vigorously, and the cleric responded. 'I have to believe that what he said is true.' Sipping at his mug, he grew thoughtful. 'You know, when I was first learning the ways of the Tyr, we heard a lot about the great warrior Miltiades. He's very important in the history of Tyr's church. He was a hero we were all encouraged to study and emulate. I'm thrilled that I had the chance to meet him. Your adventures with the paladin must have been extraordinary.'
Ren laughed. 'It was more than extraordinary. And it probably won't surprise you to know that Miltiades hardly mentioned his valorous deeds. I guess the greatest heroes have modesty woven into their souls. We had no idea we accompanied such a legend.'
The companions chatted on as the sun set and the stars tiptoed into the night sky. They took turns cuddling the baby they had all helped bring into the world.
Beyond the twinkling skies of Phlan, two gods were looking down on the peaceful scene with opposite emotions. Bane was filled with rage at losing yet another city. His followers had failed him and these mere mortals had defeated some of his most powerful servants.
Bane's only small triumph was the interception of the enchanted blue hammer. He gloated as he thought of the special magics he had used to ensure that the holy weapon would never again be wielded in the name of Tyr. He was convinced the weapon was so well hidden that it would never again surface on Toril.
Bane tried to stiffen the control he held over his few remaining cities. But with Phlan released, he felt his grip ebbing from the regions that should have brought him power. The massive disruption in his magical web was too much for even the evil god to mend. One by one, the cities Bane held captive popped out of their prisons and returned to fill their voids in the landscape. Dozens of Bane's minions died horrible deaths at the wrath of their god as the cities slipped away.
In another realm beyond the skies of Toril, Tyr smiled on the group assembled in Denlor's Tower. His followers had served him well, and a new and powerful warrior was now beginning the long journey that would
