Marissa tried to shut out the cleric's voice, but the harsh cadence and sibilant syllables of the half-orc's whispered devotion filled the room with a dreadful cacophony. She shuddered and twisted against her bonds, writhing in pain. Though she couldn't understand her torturer's words, Marissa felt their power; it washed over her, stinging and lashing her spirit with each phrase. Her cell grew dark once more-pitch black-and chilled, as if the half-orc's spell were drawing all of the energy from the room. The chill intensified, deepened, stealing her life with each knife-sharp breath that she took. Memories of her life beneath the sun, time spent with friends and loved ones, laughter, life, joy-all of it was falling away from her into an icy void. Marissa knew with a terrible certainty that there would soon be nothing left, that she was being hollowed out, emptied, until all that remained was ice and darkness.
The druid struggled against her fate, summoning thoughts from her childhood, shouting prayers to Rillifane and any god who might hear her cry. Nothing helped. She felt herself falling. Her last thought before the darkness took her was of Taenaran.
The corridor stood empty.
Smooth, polished stone-so different from the highly decorative craftsmanship of the citadel's undertomb- caught and reflected the dim light of torches that burned fitfully in iron sconces. The passageway ended in a solid stone door shut tightly almost twenty feet in the distance. Taen and his companions stood silently in the shadows and listened for any sound that might indicate the presence of their enemies.
They heard nothing.
Taen crept forward carefully, making sure his weapon did not scrape against either wall of the small passageway. When nothing jumped out at him, he waved for the others to follow. Despite their apparent safety, a sense of unease rose up in him, like delicate fingers of ice running along his spine. Bitter experience had taught him to trust his instincts. The half-elf peered intently down the corridor.
'I don't like this,' he whispered to his companions. 'Something's wrong.'
'You're just figuring that out now,' he heard Roberc's hushed reply from behind him.
Taen's sense of unease intensified-fingers turned to sharp daggers stabbing at his back. 'Wait,' he blurted out as Yurz reached for the closed door before him.
The goblin froze, one long-fingered hand nearly touching the dull gray stone. On a whim, Taen closed his eyes and cast a spell of detection upon the door. Immediately, three purplish-black glyphs flared into existence on the door's stone surface. The serpentine symbols writhed and roiled like grubs suddenly exposed to the light of day.
Yurz fell backward with a yelp, but Taen could spare the goblin none of his attention, as the power from the now-revealed glyphs hammered against the half-elf's mystic senses and threatened to overwhelm him. If any one of their group had actually laid a hand upon the door, it would have released unspeakable energy upon them all.
Taen walked toward the door with one hand extended. He gathered his own power and sent it streaming toward the door, hoping that his skill would be sufficient to dispel the protective glyphs. As the energy from his spell met the power bound up in the runes, the glowing symbols dimmed like a banked fire then flared into unmistakable life once again.
Taen swore. 'That's done it,' he nearly shouted.
'What do you mean?' Borovazk asked, casting a wary glance at the angrily pulsating symbols.
'I couldn't dispel the glyphs,' Taen replied, 'and now whoever set them here knows that someone has tried to tamper with them.'
'What do we do?' Roberc asked, drawing his sword.
Taen reached into his backpack with the other and drew forth a triangular prism. 'We'll have to move fast,' he said. 'I was hoping to hold this in reserve in case we needed it against the renegade witch, but it seems that our need is very great at the moment.'
The half-elf muttered a few words over the prism. Pure white light blossomed from the clear heart of the item. 'This prism should draw the glyphs' energy into itself,' he said to the others. 'Once those symbols disappear from the door, run through it. We've already lost any element of surprise.'
The gleam in the crystal grew brighter, filling the room. At first, the purplish glow from the warding symbols polluted the bright light, bruising its argent incandescence. Gradually, however, the prism's power overmastered the glyphs. At first, their sickening light seemed to draw back, retreating from the crystal's illumination, but the pulsating energy moved toward the prism, entering its angular planes. The process took a few more moments as the glyphs gradually faded from the door's surface. Once completed, the light from the prism faded, and the room returned to normal.
'Now!' Taen shouted and drew his weapon once again.
The others ran toward the door, throwing open its bulk with a mighty heave. Within the space of three heartbeats, Taen stood alone in the corridor.
Carelessly, he dropped the prism to the floor. It bounced once on the obdurate stone then exploded into a thousand fragments. Taen would have spent another moment making sure the evil power had truly dissipated, but the sound of Marissa's screams reached his ears from the corridor beyond the door.
He made a wordless noise and leaped into the shadowy passageway-unprepared for the horror that awaited him.
Chapter 24
The Year of Wild Magic
(1372 DR)
The horror charged.
Twin skeletal heads, one human and one monstrous, opened their mouths as if to scream, while long, bony arms swung a gleaming obsidian axe. Taen nearly toppled as he dodged the weapon, caught off guard by the speed of the attack and the high-pitched keen that ushered from the creature's heads. Borovazk leaped forward, his own axe cutting through the air in a wicked arc. The axe edge struck armor, but was unable to penetrate the thick, silvery chain that covered the beast from shoulder to knees. Still, the force of the blow knocked the creature back a step, and Taen took that opportunity to pull back from the monster safely.
In the dim light of the stone corridor, Taen could see the glint of bone, some yellowed with age and others gleaming white, that made up their opponent's prodigious bulk. Unlike most of the skeletal creatures he had fought in the past, the bones of this monster didn't seem to fit together well. It was as if someone had scavenged parts from a host of different beasts and cobbled them together with magic. Arms that could have come from an ogre or a giant ended in hands that seemed delicate, almost elf like in appearance. Likewise, the beast's human-sized legs ended in elongated, three-toed feet. Bits of dried and desiccated flesh still clung to parts of the monster's bones. It was the eyes, though, that disturbed Taen the most. Deep within the empty sockets of the monster's four eyes, purple flames burned with flickering intensity. A chill ran through the half-elf whenever he found himself transfixed with that gaze.
There was little time to reflect on this puzzle, however, as the skeletal creature lurched forward, swinging its axe once again. Roberc darted forward as the weapon whistled over his head and drew a thick-headed mace from his belt. Two mighty swings of the weapon sent bone chips flying out from the monster's legs. Its keen changed in tone, transforming into a roar of anger. Within moments, twin sheets of purple flame exploded from the creature's eyes, engulfing Roberc in an eldritch conflagration.
Taen cried out as the flames erupted around the halfling, but he was too far away from the fighter to do anything. Behind him, however, the half-elf heard a low growl before Cavan's furred form darted forward, hurtling toward the ball of flame. The war-dog leaped toward the burning fire and yelped with pain as he entered the fiery sphere. His momentum, however, carried him through the raging inferno in moments, with Roberc's smoldering form before him.
Taen heard Borovazk's shout of rage as the ranger struck from behind their skeletal opponent. Axe and
