finished. They were next! 'Look! Already the yeth begin to snuffle and search to locate us. We must get away.'
'Very well. I will attempt my best. Hold tight to Gord's hand and think on Shadow!'
Somehow Leda managed to shut out the riot of noise that swept over them. Blocking out the horrible scene was easy. All she needed to do to accomplish that was to shut her eyes. Then Leda managed to deaden her auditory input, so that her mind was a sea of calm and quietude. Only then could she begin to construct the images needed to transport herself and her love to the hoped-for safety of shadow. Slowly but firmly, the dark elven priestess built in her mind a picture of the plane of shadows, its strange light, its ever-shifting landscapes, just as Eclavdra remembered them from a time before Leda existed. It was a strange thing, one that she hated to do. Reaching back into memories of the drow woman from whom she had sprung caused Leda sharp pangs of identity. The crisis passed only because she was do determined. The personality that had been Eclavdra was there, strong, waiting to reawaken, perhaps. Leda would never allow that. Drawing from the old memories made the task of retaining Leda in lieu of Eclavdra a very difficult one, but she managed.
Gellor too had problems. He could easily suppress all outside stimuli. It was fixing upon the necessary images that caused the bard difficulty. Imperfect recall meant broken images, partial reconstruction of a scene necessary for their movement from the Abyss to. . elsewhere. That stated the quandary well.
Imperfect reconstruction in his mind might result in failure to escape demonium and the hand of Tharizdun. Closing his mind to the picture of the archfiend reaching for them even as he thought of that occurring, Gellor began to speak to himself in his mind of the lands of shadow.
There is a pervading dimness there. I see the blacks of Shadowrealm starkly, for each is different from the other. I see the grays too, defined by the hard gloss of jet and the soft. Inky fronds of vegetation. The pearl and the dove are there, and hidden in all are hints of hues we know on Oerth, but they are different, and there are new colors too. Mobile is the land, and unless it is scrutinized closely, it will slip away as a shadow does, for it is shadow. The milky crescent of Mool rises above, dark eddies of shadowstreams reflect opaline glimmerings of that luminary. Now I walk along in the shifting stuff of shadow, going between this sphere and all others. …'
'Gellor! Gellorl Please hurry, Gellor! I am on the verge of being away, but Gord's weight drags. You must help me bear him along!'
'Hush, girl,' the troubador whispered, barely interrupting his deep meditation. 'I know that we have only seconds left, but I am doing all I can. Stay with me now, and don't speak again. We'll make it …' And then he allowed his speech to fall off into silence once more as he resumed concentration.
The ground trembled under her, but Leda blotted that out Whether it was the demon-brute, advancing enemies, or the tread of Tharizdun himself coming near, it made no difference. She had only one hope. Leda returned her thoughts to the realm of insubstantial play of light and dark going ever deeper so as to obtain the land of pure shadow.
It was very hard for Gellor to go past the point where Leda had gone so easily. Shadow exists in many spheres, strongly on the material one, of course. It was from there that Gellor had to step. The nighttime's world comes closest to opening a portal between human realms and the plane of true insubtantiality called Shadowland. The thick shadows of a forested midnight are as a gate to Shadowland, one that can open if the bright rays from the heavens above are just right. Gellor envisioned the light of Luna and Celene making patches of contradiction to the darker stuff of shadow, while the twinkle of a billion far suns made starshine come to thicken the mixture of light and dark Grays grew stronger, with sooty blacknesses opening beneath the canopies above.
He stepped along the penumbrate paths thus built, and at the last moment of the ascendant moons' soarings passed through the slender gateway. It was as if he had to squeeze through a very narrow opening, and that space was closing, constraining, hurting. Gellor wrenched himself beyond, then pulled. Something pushed, and the burden followed the narrow passageway with a rush. 'Made it,' he gasped, falling over in fatigue.
'We did!' Leda cried with joy. 'We made it. troubador, and so did Gord!'
Gellor gave a short chuckle at that, pulling himself into a sitting position from where he had collapsed on the grassy sward of Shadowland. 'Now we can see to our comrade. …'
'Yes, that we must do quickly,' Leda said with concern clouding her former elation. 'He is the champion. and he must be fit to face the enemy when the next confrontation takes place.'
The wealsome forces of the rings will serve, I think.' Gellor ventured. 'We need to help Gord regain his senses, and then we three can bind the powers of the Spheres of Light to mending whatever hurt was done by the evil of the Eye of Deception.'
The attack by Graz'zt was so stupid!' Leda said, for she couldn't control her anger at and disbelief of Graz'zt s sudden assault. 'Had that filth not been so cowardly as to assail Gord from behind, Tharizdun would have been defeated and — '
'That all goes without articulation, girl. Think no more on it. Demons are what they are. Graz'zt was bent on destruction of us all for our humiliation of him — because he is a demon and we are otherwise. As a scorpion might, the demon king struck heedless of the resulting damage his sting would bring upon his own head.'
Leda spat as if to curse Graz'zt. 'He deserves his fate at the hands of the archfiend!'
'True. We are not so deserving, yet I fear that the act of the mad demon has brought foul doom to us three and the cosmos too.'
'Gord is living. He fought Tharizdun twice, and each time he would have bested the enemy save that the archfiend had some outside agency rescue him. He is champion, my Gord. He can win a third meeting!'
Gellor had been examining his friend gently as they spoke. The second duel was a near thing, Leda. Tharizdun had gained much power. Now he will be complete, and he will have his yeth. I am gravely concerned.'
She stared at the bard in the twilight dimness of the open sward there on the plane of shadows. 'What are you telling me?'
'The skull of the boy-Tharizdun is not here, Leda. When we brought Gord here, we somehow failed to create sufficient force to take that grisly trophy along. The archfiend must have it even now. …'
Before Leda could respond to that, a faint howl came wafting to her ears. It was borne along on the aethereal wind, and it sent long shivers up her spine and ice into her brave heart.
'Now is the beginning of the end,' Gellor said heavily.
She would not allow that 'Come, troubador! There are shadewolves thick upon the Land of Shadow. They roam the forest and field. What we heard is naught but some pack of them voicing their fell presence to all the others. Come on! We must find habitation and safety. Help me carry Gord to such a place.'
'As you wish, lady,' Gellor replied. He made no further comment, and the two labored along in silence through the ever-shifting place that was the shadow world. Creatures of the sphere came to investigate, but not even the most ferocious of dark predators drew near. The three bands, Courflamme, and Gellor's kanteel too, kept all such prowling beasts and hungry monsters at a distance. In a short time the two came upon a community of the phantom-folk who were predominant in Shadowland, and in that village they found rest.
The rings they had gained from the transmutation of the three Theorparts had been used heavily. The energies locked within them were growing weak and erratic, especially since there had been no opportunity to expose them to any realm of Goodness where some restoration of their power could be made through drawing upon the forces there. In Shadowland the bands seemed very strong and bright, but anywhere else their auras would have been pale and dim. Both Leda and Gellor understood this, and both worried as to the result when they utilized the rings yet again to restore Gord to health and vigor. Would the tokens of Weal be drained dxy and become useless?
'We have no option in the matter,' Gellor said flatly. 'Even if we three are then stripped of our last defense against the enemy, we must bring the champion into consciousness and restore him to strength as well.'
Leda agreed for many reasons, of course. After she and the bard had rested and recouped their own energy, they went to work to bring their friend back to them from his comatose state. The bands each wore gave up only a slow trickle of power, but along with the magic each of the two was able to activate without the rings, it was sufficient to bring about a gradual change.
Gord's pallor lessened, and his breathing went from shallow, rattling breaths to deep, normal ones, the sounds of one who is in deep and restful slumber. From there he was further restored, and before long he awakened and was able to speak. 'Where. .?'
'In the realms of the shadows, dearest one,' Leda answered softly.
'I. . hurt What did this to me? I had the foe at my mercy. …'
