'I'm afraid there's nothing here,' she said to the cleric.
The older man turned to face her. Neither Steorf nor he had bothered with any introductions, so Tazi didn't know his name. His purple robes with the seven stars and red mist clearly marked him for what he was, and that was enough. Tazi wished everyone could be so clearly labeled and known, inside and out. She was half-sick of secrets.
'I am sorry it distresses you to be here,' he told her, and Tazi was startled that her discomfort was so obvious to him, 'but this is difficult.'
Steorf smiled when the cleric seemed to confirm his earlier statement, but his satisfaction was short lived.
As though reading Steorf's mind, the cleric continued, 'The spell itself is not too difficult to cast for someone who is accomplished. What makes this challenging is the length of time your friend has been dead and the condition of his body.'
The cleric's use of the word 'friend' instead of corpse was not lost on Tazi. She was touched that the older man didn't refer to Ebeian as a carcass or some kind of object. He was able to see the elf as a person-or at least recognize that Tazi still did.
'Please keep trying and ignore my impatience,' she apologized with a forced smile, and the cleric returned to the task at hand.
With renewed attention, the old man turned to his makeshift altar. Tazi and Steorf had pushed the small dining table in front of Ebeian's bed for his use. The cleric had proceeded to cover that table with several thick, pillar-style candles and a small incense burner. Tazi watched as he pulled a small leather pouch out from under the yoke of his tunic. With a quick snap, he broke the cord that fastened it to his neck and emptied the pouch's contents onto the center of the table. Tazi tried to move forward to get a better look as the cleric fingered through the various baubles, but Steorf motioned for her to hold still. She gave him a dirty look but kept her ground.
The priest studied a small blue crystal he held near the candlelight and seemed satisfied with his selection. Intoning a few words, he tossed the stone straight up into the air. As it fell, he brought his hands together thunderously over it and ground the stone to powder in his clasped grip. Murmuring a prayer to Mystra, he emptied the contents of his hands over one of the candles. The room began to fill with a blue glow. Where Ebeian's head and torso lay, a vague shimmering began.
Tazi let out her breath, unaware until that moment that she had been holding it. With wonder-filled eyes, she turned to the cleric but was startled to see the strain he was already under. His face was covered with a slight sheen of sweat. He kept his hands together in supplication and his eyes squeezed tightly closed. She couldn't quite make out the phrase he kept repeating again and again. Steorf gently touched her upper arm, and she turned her attention back to the glowing shape. A gasp escaped her as she saw Ebeian open his eyes.
'We don't have much time,' the cleric whispered, teeth clenched. His pain was obvious. 'Something is blocking my attempts to reach your friend more clearly. Hurry and ask what you can!'
With that, the cleric began chanting quietly again.
Tazi looked at Steorf. He shook his head and said, 'I think it would be better if you talked to it.'
'All right,' Tazi hissed, 'I'll talk with 'it'!'
She turned to the shimmering face of her lover.
'Ebeian?'
There was a moment of silence, and Tazi felt a touch foolish speaking to the elf's torn face. She cleared her throat and was about to speak his name again when a whisper almost like a breeze carried across the room.
'Who's there?' it asked.
'It's me, Eb. Tazi.'
At the mention of her name, Ebeian's eyes became more focused beneath the enchanted shimmer that coalesced over his face and remains.
'Where are you?' he asked, unable to turn his head. 'I can't see you.'
Tazi moved closer to his bed and after a moment's hesitation sat down where she had been keeping vigil a few hours earlier. She reached out and touched his face.
'I'm here,' she told him, looking straight into his green eyes.
Steorf stepped closer to her and whispered in her ear, 'Hurry, Thazienne, we don't know how much time you have with it.'
Tazi was still angered that Steorf kept referring to Ebeian as 'it,' but she also realized he was right.
'Who did this to you, Eb?'
Ebeian seemed surprised by her question.
'You're the one who's done this to me.'
Tazi was at first shocked and puzzled by his response. Steorf recognized her confusion.
'When you ask a question, the corpse takes it literally. The answer was correct. You are the reason the corpse is reanimated. You must be very exact,' he explained.
She gave him a quick nod and said, 'Ebeian, who killed you?'
'It was Ciredor,' he stated simply.
The silence in the room was deafening.
Tazi's blood turned sluggish in her veins at the mention of that name. Her senses threatened to reel out of control and yet a part of her had known since she first saw Ebeian's body that there was no one else who could have done this. She felt Steorf place both his hands on her shoulders and, for the moment, was grateful for the contact. It was the only way she knew she was really there.
'Ciredor is here?' she asked, still finding it hard to believe that the dark mage was back in her life.
'I don't see him,' Ebeian answered, trying to turn his head with his partially severed neck.
'Remember, ask carefully as he takes your questions literally,' Steorf reminded her gently. 'I know it's hard,' he added, and still he held on to her.
'How did you come to clash with Ciredor?'
Ebeian looked her in the eyes and answered, 'Because of you, Thazienne.'
Tazi could feel the sharp stab of tears but bit back on them.
'What did I have to do with it?' she asked, almost afraid of the answer.
'I went to the Soargyls' mansion to steal you a pretty to make you smile. Ciredor was there with Lord Rorsin, and he was trying to sell a fragment of your soul to the young Soargyl. I freed that part of you, and he killed me because I was useful to him.'
The elf's voice was almost emotionless.
'How could Ciredor have a part of my soul?' Tazi whispered, more to herself than Ebeian's body, but the elf answered, nonetheless.
'I heard him tell Rorsin that he disguised himself as a priest when you were hurt last year. Instead of healing you, the disguised Ciredor took that part of your soul that was lingering around you.'
'When did this encounter between you two happen?' she asked cautiously.
'At the beginning of Marpenoth,' the corpse replied.
Tazi was flabbergasted. The beginning of Marpenoth was when she had awakened feeling refreshed, more like her old self than she had since her injury. That was a tenday past.
'I knew I felt something,' she mumbled.
'What?' Steorf demanded.
Tazi reached up and placed her left hand on his, which still rested on her shoulder. Without looking back at him, she told Steorf, 'I'll explain it to you later.'
The glow surrounding Ebeian's corpse began to flicker.
'You've got to be quick,' the cleric urged. 'I'm losing him. Something is fighting me, and I don't think it's him.'
Tazi was fairly certain who was responsible for the interference. Her mind raced to ask the right questions while she struggled with the fear that was just below the surface.
'Why did Ciredor need you?'
'He told me, right before he killed me that he was collecting complete souls for a ritual he has planned in Calimport. Mine fit into his plans because of who I worship.'
'Has he gone back to Calimport?' Tazi questioned.
