something. He sent to her, I have a gift here for you, Tsarra. It has been a long time in coming.
Tsarra approached, and Khelben brought out a jet-black recurved short bow and placed it in her hands. Tsarra sent, Thank you, Master. Does it have a name? She could feel tremendous power in the duskwood bow and in what appeared to be a silver bowstring. Not as such. I made it about two hundred years ago, but it's never been drawn. It's a simple thing-it allows any arrow fired from it to penetrate magical shields as if the arrows were blackstaves. That will prove useful against our foe to come, for certain. Still, why give this to me now? I know that ritual is later today, but what's your sudden hurry? I've added a few spells to the bow that should help in the coming day. Ualair is connected to this plan on many levels, as he's one of its architects, along with a number of my tutors-the ones they now call the Seven Wizards of Myth Drannor. Yes, and? Five others sleep as he did, though more openly and in disguise. The Five who Sleep are integral to the Pentad's plan to restore the high mages' city of Faertelmiir. Tsarra finally understood Khelben's haste and anger as she said aloud, 'The Five who Sleep are Malavar's Grasp?' 'Yes, and in his ignorance, Priamon Rakesk may well kill them… and doom everyone on the Sword Coast!'
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Feast of the Moon, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)
Tsarra threw off her cloak and adjusted how her quiver lay across her back. She took up the new bow and slung it around her shoulder.
She opened her hand to take the three blue and one green crystalline arrows Khelben handed to her. She asked, 'These are arrows like those you gave me at the tower?' 'No,' Khelben said, as he threw open cabinets and growled in frustration. 'Those were new spells I was testing. These are designed to damage undead more than the living.
Your bow should help you penetrate Priamon's defenses. And remember-that green-glass arrow you save until I expressly tell you to use it.' Tsarra added the arrows to her quiver alongside her regular arrows. Khelben spent a few moments grunting as he opened and closed boxes, searching for something. Finally, he pulled open a drawer and sighed with relief as he pulled out a small black bottle. He uncorked it and a slight flash of silver magic shimmered on the stopper as he put that down and motioned her closer. He began to tip the bottle and said, 'All right, Tsarra-we're going to jump through this portal.' He poured the black liquid in a circle on the floor. 'We'll travel through the sharn to the focal point of our problem. You'll have to distract and fight Priamon for a short time while I get the Five awake and to relative safety. I'll fire two spells to help you, but you'll be on your own after that. Ready?' 'Ready.' Tsarra turned back to bid Alustriel and Ualair good-bye, but they were deep in conversation over the still-prone body of Rhymallos. Tsarra looked back at Khelben, who had continued pouring black liquid into the circle while chanting. The entire circle was jet black, and as the final drop fell from the bottle and Khelben's chant ended, familiar purple sparks erupted in its depths. Khelben joined hands with Tsarra, and the two of them leaped into the circle and jumped out into a dark, rainy environment filled with ear-shattering thunder. Khelben, Tsarra, the undead one activates the Mormhaor'sykerylor! The pain returns! You must stop him! a voice boomed through the darkness. All around them were the blasted plains of the High Moor, here and there dotted with pools of blackness that could either be dark water or sharnstuff, as was the black puddle from which they had emerged. In the distance, Priamon stood silhouetted between them and the lightning-wrapped pyramid. The pyramid hovered point down just above the top of the five stone plinths. Lightning crackled and blasted away at the plinths and the heath beneath them. Meanwhile, Frostrune spun other spells that focused the lightning bolts, keeping the worst fury of the storms focused within Malavar's Grasp. The wind commiserated with the pain of the ground and rock. Overhead, the sky crawled with lightning burrowing through the clouds and lancing both up and down from ground and sky. Tsarra looked for cover, only to be disappointed at the stunted scrub that counted as foliage in the High Moor. Khelben tapped her on the shoulder and motioned her forward. Tsarra soon realized the rain was doing more than just getting them wet. Her leathers were starting to steam, as if the rain were acid. Strange that it doesn't have the same effect on flesh, she thought. They moved quickly across the moor, Tsarra and Khelben both readying spells. The only benefit of the storms was in covering their approach. Once they were within fifty paces, Khelben summoned a massive energy hand into being around Priamon, and it squeezed, shattering magical fields and defenses around him. The hand shimmered and disappeared, and Khelben said,
'Now!' Tsarra summoned up a spell that used all her anger and hatred toward undead and focused it with precision. It always left the odd taste of pickles in her mouth when she cast it. Five pulses of white light exploded from her right hand and quickly arced toward the lich.
Two of them glanced off the large metal plate and harness the creature wore, but the remainder struck him in the head, arm, and leg.
Priamon's howls of anger and pain told them they'd made an impact. He lashed back with a massive fireball of cold energies, but Khelben cancelled its effects. As Tsarra dashed in an arc around Priamon, she saw Khelben fire a green bolt of energy that struck Priamon squarely in the face but did no damage. The lich started a new spell, but she fired an arrow at him. That too struck him squarely, and he seemed surprised to find an arrow lodged in his chest. Had his heart mattered to him, that shot would have killed him. 'Bothersome gnats!' Priamon howled at them. 'The powers I awaken here shall destroy all who stand in my path. I'll collect enough magic from your corpses to train upon the Rune. Those who don't stand with me shall fall. And first among them is you, Blackstaff!' Rather than attack, the lich wove a new defensive spell around himself. Tsarra, I need to stop that pyramid for now. Do what you can to buy me time, but don't throw your life away! Khelben flew off toward Malavar's Grasp, and Tsarra quickly thought of eating dewmelons and spitting out the seeds. In response, green pulses spat from her fingers and zipped at Frostrune, only to bounce ineffectively against his shields. 'Little girl,' Frostrune mocked, 'never dare to fight your betters.' The lich's claws blasted a shuddering beam of cold, arcane energy, and Tsarra could feel the air around her freeze. She dived to one side, avoiding the worst of it, but she landed hard on frost- rimed ground and ice-covered puddles. The glass arrow she had nocked and readied shattered when she fell forward. At least I didn't break the bow, she thought. Tsarra jumped up and ran in an arc, from the frozen area and away from Khelben.
Luckily, she'd irritated the lich enough that he kept his attention on her. Khelben! Any chance now is the time to use that green arrow? Or even to tell me what good it will do? No, it's not the time! It can strike more effectively later, not now. I hope I'm alive and warm enough to use it by then. Tsarra fired off one quick arrow to dispel Priamon's new defense and followed it up by summoning more white energy. The arrow dispelled his defensive spell, and her bolt of living energy wrung another howl from the lich. 'Bothersome wench!
Those lifebolts irritate, but they do not distract.' Priamon raised his arms and blasted a beam of cold energy at Khelben, who managed to counterspell it and reflect the energies right back atop of the lich.
Surrounded by frozen ground and ice-covered ground shrubs, Priamon turned his back on Tsarra and refocused on Khelben. Perfect. Tsarra wasn't sure if the idea came from Khelben or her time within the sharn, but she realized a new way to manipulate her environment.
Imagining that short stab of shocking cold upon the first winter's breath, she redirected that shock toward Frostrune. The ice all around him crackled together into a solid lance and speared him squarely in the back. The attack took him by surprise, and though she knew he was immune to the cold of the spell, Tsarra knew he took a solid hit.
Khelben stood on empty air, his cloak slapping wildly in the wind and rain. It too steamed and burned in the acidic rain, but the Blackstaff seemed not to notice. He was lost in his spellcasting. 'Blackstaff, the girl grows tiresome, but you're still my primary threat.' Priamon cast his spell, and Khelben's flying form glowed blue. His cloak stiffened with ice, and his hair froze across his paling face. Khelben groaned as all the heat drained from his body. Khelben! Tsarra sent when she felt him grow cold and frozen, but he still had life in him.
Now! Fire the green arrow at his feet! Despite the pain from the spell, Khelben seemed to be willing himself to fly out of the lich's range. Tsarra drew the arrow and fired, shattering the green glass right beneath the lich at his feet. A flash heralded the eagle-head buckle's arrival on the spot. Tsarra was glad it wasn't on the belt as it crackled with blue energy, and two massive bolts of lightning forked off the pyramid, slamming into Frostrune. Khelben? Are you all right? Tsarra felt the stabbing cold through their link, and she found herself weeping and angry. She wanted to help her mentor, but she couldn't… except by destroying the lich. She ran forward, drawing
