The surface was dusted with coarse powder, mostly white but with a smattering of purples and mauves sprinkled in. It looked as though a localized snowfall had come down within the clearing, which measured perhaps five paces across.
'Why, shattering them, of course,' Zasian said. 'It occurred to me that so much of this accursed place is made of rock, and not all of it superheated. I thought perhaps a spell designed to make such substances crack and crumble would come in handy. Turns out it did.'
A shadow passed over the pair just then, and when Vhok glanced up, he spotted one of the creatures drawing up sharply after having flown past his landing point. It was circling around to dive at the two travelers.
'They are persistent,' the priest said. 'Kurkle warned us to watch the skies as well as the lava. I guess I should have heeded him better. Regardless,' he added, 'we need to get away from here.' Zasian peered around. 'I don't know if they'd try to follow us through this or not,' he said, pointing to the crystals, 'but maybe they won't and we can slip away.'
The bird-creature swooped in close again, screeching in anger as it tried to find a way to attack its prey. The shards of crystal were enough of a deterrent to keep it at bay. It spun and wheeled away again.
Zasian muttered something unintelligible and waved his arms overhead. A thick mist sprang up around them, obscuring everything beyond a pace or two on every side. Vhok could barely make out the priest's form sitting next to him in the blinding white haze.
'That ought to slow them down for a bit,' Zasian said.
'Too bad I cannot alter the two of us to a gaseous form again,' Vhok lamented. 'It would make moving through this odd forest much easier.'
'Indeed,' the priest agreed. 'And that was quick thinking, by the way. Gave me time to gather my wits and work my own magic to return the favor.' He put his finger to his lips and tapped it a couple of times. 'I wonder,' he said, more to himself than the cambion. 'Yes,' he said, apparently resolving whatever dilemma he had been pondering. 'The decision, of course, is which direction to go?' he asked aloud, though he didn't seem to be asking Vhok.
'I spotted a path that way,' the cambion said, pointing in the direction he had explored before the battle with the bird-creatures. 'That seems the best choice.'
'I concur,' the priest said. 'How far?'
'Not long, if we were on open ground,' Vhok replied. 'But much too far to try slinking through this mess.'
'Leave that to me,' Zasian said. 'Let's give those nasty beasts some time to lose interest in us. If we remain out of sight in this mist, perhaps they will seek something more palatable and easier to catch.'
The two travelers spent a few more moments waiting and listening. The screech of the flying beasts echoed through the crystalline forest a half-dozen more times. Each call grew a bit fainter, a bit farther away. At last, neither Vhok nor Zasian heard anything more of the creatures. A moment later, the mist dissipated.
'Shall we?' Zasian asked, rising to his feet. 'I think a spiritual morningstar will serve us nicely,' he added. He grasped hold of a necklace hidden within the folds of his outfit and spoke a few words.
A glowing, spiked weapon similar in design to the priest's real item sprang into view, hovering about shoulder high. Vhok gave it a cursory glance, recognizing the spell. Obeying Zasian's mental commands, the glowing morningstar moved to the edge of the newly made clearing and began pounding the branches of the closest crystal tree. Limbs of mineral vibrated and snapped, sending shards everywhere. Vhok flung up his arm to shield his eyes from the flying debris.
'Yes, I think we should stay well back,' Zasian commented. 'Let it do the dirty work.'
The spiritual weapon continued, cutting a swath through the lattice just wide enough for cambion and priest to fit through. As it plowed deeper into the maze of bizarre protrusions, Vhok and the Banite followed it. After a time, Zasian began to get a feel and a rhythm for the fastest route, snapping only the thinnest branches off the ends of each growth. It wasn't as fast as walking, but they made steady progress.
Once, Vhok thought he heard the screech of one of the things that had attacked them, and Zasian held the magical weapon still while they searched the sky together. If it had come near, they could not see it, and at last they presumed that it had wandered away. The priest put the morningstar to work once more.
The spell ended before they reached the path Vhok remembered seeing, so Zasian summoned the spell a second time and they continued. Before long, the morningstar broke through to clear ground.
The path Vhok had seen was straight and wide. He saw no evidence of who or what might have made it, but it was clearly unnatural. Whatever had made the trail had done a thorough job, Vhok noted. No remnants of crystal lay scattered on the black and baking ground, no mineral dust indicated that any of the growth had been pulverized or crushed. No tracks remained that Vhok could see. It was impossible for him to discern how well traveled the path might be.
Shrugging, he started forward, with Zasian beside him. As they walked, they kept one eye on the sky, wary of being surprised again by the soaring, wheeling beasts. The bird-things did not return to trouble them again.
The land rose as they left the Islands behind. Flat shoreline became low foothills, which in turn became steeper mountains. Vhok could see the glow of magma trickling down from the higher elevations ahead of them. He hoped they would not face much steep climbing or fording of the molten rock. He suspected his wishes would be in vain.
The path began to wind more and more. It became a series of switchbacks that climbed the steeper slopes. In various places, Vhok and Zasian found narrow bridges crafted of black, igneous stone crossing deep gullies and ravines. Glowing magma coursed down those channels, and Vhok was thankful that some intelligent beings had constructed the road. He wondered how long it might be before they ran into the bridge builders, and whether they would receive a better reception than the centaur bandits had offered.
The forest of crystal remained all around them, and the individual growths grew higher and higher as they ascended the slopes of the mountains. Soon, the things were towering well over their heads, with trunks as thick as giants' waists. Vhok noted that the branches did not protrude from the main trunks until well overhead. Like a normal forest on Faerun, the effect created a cathedral-like openness at ground level with a canopy of shelter overhead. The only difference, the cambion observed, was that fallen branches and decaying leaves were replaced by jagged shards of glassy stone and coarse powder that covered the land like snow. It might have been beautiful, but he dared not tread upon it.
After walking for a long time, Vhok broke the silence. 'We need to find shelter soon,' he said. 'Nothing looks very inviting out here, though,' he added. He could not hide the bitterness in his voice. He knew their rest would be far less comfortable without the luxury of his magical mansion. He was angry at himself for not planning a backup measure.
Yet another consequence for being too trusting, he lamented.
'That may be a problem,' Zasian said. 'Without enough rest, it may be difficult for either of us to rejuvenate our magic.'
They plodded along, vainly seeking some sort of reprieve from the scorching ground and broiling atmosphere. Despite the magical protection of the rings both wore, the cambion felt his energy draining from him. Sweat soaked him through, his mouth was parched, and his nose and eyes stung from the acrid air. Everything smelled burned. He was sick of it.
Vhok realized that there was no day or night within the Plane of Fire. The sky remained that same roiling hue of orange mixed with gray and black, an endless stretch of smoky clouds churning overhead and reflecting the light of a million burning fires. He had no idea how long they had been traveling since extracting themselves from the dimensional mansion. He knew he was tired, though.
'We've got to halt,' he announced at last. He stopped and propped himself against an outcropping of rock that jutted from a steep-sided slope running alongside the trail. 'No more today,' he added.
'There's no place to shelter us,' Zasian argued. 'Maybe the next bridge would suit us.'
'Yes, an excellent idea,' Vhok said, and he laughed, but he felt no mirth. 'We can hide beneath it like trolls.'
'You would prefer to just plop down here?' the priest demanded, his tone haughty. 'Exposed? Visible? At the mercy of the endless, thrice-damned heat?' he shouted, visibly angry. He flung his pack down upon the
