The Last Battle

 

The azer and his servants led Regdar and the others quickly into what looked like a small guardroom.

"I, too, cannot help you fight. If the blackguard reaches the citadel... perhaps," Gurn said, shuffling through a small chest. "But I can give you the means to battle. You, wizard."

He gestured to Naull. She stepped up beside him and he handed her a small black wand. As she touched it, one end glowed red.

"Point the bright end at the enemy and say 'secrus'," the azer explained.

Naull nodded, recognizing the draconic word for "fire." She had little doubt of the wand's function.

"Krusk," he continued as he drew a quiver of arrows out of a small, nearly empty weapons locker, "use these arrows. I think you'll find them effective."

He gestured to Regdar and pulled out the last weapon, a bastard sword covered in runes that were burned into the blade with acid and treated with burgundy dye. He grinned, the first time they'd seen him truly smile. His teeth were white, but smoke wisped out between them.

"I think you'll like this," the azer said to Regdar.

"Paladin of Heironeous," he continued, "I have nothing for you. When the dwellers between worlds abandoned the city, they took or destroyed nearly all the weapons and magic within. Even if I could find something you might use, you would rather trust your sword and shield, marked as they are by your god?"

Alhandra shifted and said, "Don't misunderstand, sir. I will turn any weapon, unless it was created in evil, to the service of Heironeous, but I trust my sword and shield well enough. You are more than generous."

Gurn nodded sternly, but appeared pleased by the paladin's words.

"Perhaps I have something for you after all," he said.

From his own surcoat the azer drew a gem hanging from a silver thread. The paladin bent at the waist and Gurn laid the necklace over her head solemnly. It hung down over the emblem of Heironeous and both glowed briefly, the emblem gold and the gem red.

"Accept the blessing of Moradin," he said.

She nodded, apparently surprised to hear the dwarf god invoked by a creature of the Inner Planes.

"I will go up into the tower," Gurn concluded. "When you have defeated the gnolls, or destroyed them, return. We must work quickly. I can begin the process of closing the gate, but you must bring the key and its protector." The azer pointed at Krusk deliberately. "I cannot close the gate without you, and it."

Krusk nodded.

"C'mon, folks," Regdar said, hefting his new sword. "Time we got rid of these dogs."

 

 

"What are they?" asked one of the scouts.

The gnolls strung their bows and nocked arrows but Kark ordered them not to fire. The creatures dancing in the shadows on either side of the road approached no nearer than the walkways and did not threaten them yet.

"They aren't human," the gnoll said.

Kark snarled, "I can smell that." His ears lay flat against his head. "They aren't attacking, anyway. Keep moving. Find the soft-skins."

The gnolls moved along the road, spread out and snuffling. Three scouts up front, three behind, and Kark and three others in the middle. They would find their quarry, and they would kill them. Kark believed the soft-skins couldn't run much farther.

He was right.

One of the forward gnolls, the one on the left, stopped suddenly. He yipped softly, just loud enough to draw the attention of the others. As Kark looked up, he saw a jet of flame stream down from one of the nearby buildings and strike the scout high in the chest. Fire burst around the gnoll, and he went down hard, his bow clattering on the stonework. The fire sizzled briefly, charring the dead scout's fur and sending up a horrid stench. Even before his nose caught the filthy odor, Kark barked an alarm.

Too late for the middle scout—an arrow made entirely of flame blasted the next gnoll as he turned. The young gnoll howled in fright and fear, beating at his fur before the fire could catch. Another arrow, this one made of wood and feather and tipped with steel, struck him high in the chest. He spun away from the impact, trying to flee, but stumbled and fell dead.

Kark barked orders, trying to rally his remaining troops, but they were frightened. The scouts were experienced ambushers, but they'd never before been caught in one themselves. Kark realized immediately that their prey had doubled back on them, letting the gnolls follow the trail right into a trap. The old gnoll knew from experience how effective that trap could be.

 

 

Krusk and Regdar kept firing arrows at the frontmost gnolls. They saw the old one move and heard it shout, but many of the others stood in shock and surprise or simply crouched, unsure what to do or even where to look. They were easy targets for the two archers.

Following behind one of the smoke mephits (Gurn would not allow them to fight, but he instructed them to guide those who could), Naull found herself winding through a narrow alley up to a small building on the right side of the road.

"Secrus," she breathed again, and a tiny red bead shot from the bright end of the wand.

Streaking toward the rearmost gnolls, it exploded against the skull of the centermost creature. The fireball's roaring eruption hurled two of the creatures to the ground encased in flame. They thrashed and shrieked for brief moments before falling still. Naull could see their blackened, shriveled forms inside the subsiding fires. The older gnoll, however, avoided the brunt of the blast by diving to the side. He rose from the ground quickly, looking distinctly shaken and with burning embers of his former troops still smoking in his fur.

From the other side of the road, Alhandra leaped out with her sword unsheathed, crying, "Heironeous! Heironeous!"

The gnolls that were still on their feet had their bows in their hands and were hungry for any target. Two arrows whipped past the paladin before her bright blade hewed through the hard wood and sliced into the creature's hyena-shaped skull. The sword wedged tightly in the bone, but Alhandra used her strength and momentum to wrench it free. She heard the beast's neck snap from the twisting motion, and Alhandra knew that whatever life may have remained in the creature was snuffed out then. Nimbly she leaped over the humanoid's corpse and rushed toward the next in line.

Kark's command disintegrated. With his flesh singed and his followers dying, the old gnoll wondered at the suddenness of the onslaught.

What happened? he thought wildly.

The silver knight he recognized from the inn's yard, but he couldn't even see the others. Flames and arrows and bright swords—Kark knew the fight was over when the knight stepped toward the last of his scouts. The last! From ten to two in mere seconds! Among the pack, there was no tradition of honor demanding that a commander die with his troops. Kark fled.

 

 

Seeing the last gnoll sprinting over the stone road, Regdar tried to line up a shot but couldn't. The angle was too sharp. He cried out to Krusk, but the barbarian already had his axe in his hand and was running to help Alhandra.

The paladin didn't need the aid. The only remaining gnoll discarded its bow and attacked with its axe. Alhandra caught the overhead blow on her shield and drove her sword through the creature's belly. Blood soaked into the heavy fur and ran down the blade to drip from the hilt. The gnoll slumped to the ground with its jaws still snapping. Desperately it clawed at the armor-sheathed leg that Alhandra placed on its chest, to no effect. Moments later, after a quick swipe of the paladin's sword, it too lay still. By the time Regdar came down from his perch, the fleeing gnoll was long gone.

"I could get used to this," Naull said, stepping out of the building. She looked appreciatively at the red-tipped wand, then tucked it in her belt.

"One escaped," Regdar said with a frown.

"Yeah, but this time we don't have to chase him," the wizard concluded. She cursed her choice of words immediately, knowing that Regdar didn't need a reminder of the disaster in the orc lair.

Regdar gazed down the street for a moment. Naull stepped up and put a hand on his arm. She looked at him with worry in her eyes but he met her glance and smiled wearily.

"It's all right," he said. "I think we're almost done here."

Then we can talk, Naull thought. She patted his arm and looked around. With a cry of revulsion she jerked her hand away from Regdar and clapped at Krusk.

The barbarian was moving through the fallen gnolls with a knife in one hand and several pointed, fur-covered ears in the other.

"That is just disgusting, Krusk!" the wizard cried.

The half-orc looked first from the wizard, then to Regdar, and finally to Alhandra. The look on the paladin's face made Krusk's dark cheeks flush slightly and he let the ears fall back to the ground.

"That's better," Naull said. "Now, if they have any treasure. . . ."

she added wispily.

"No," Regdar said, "let's get back to the tower. Let's get this finished."

 

 

Kark reached the archway, panting from the pain of his wound and the heat of the gate. When he looked up from the hard ground he grunted in surprise. Grawltak stepped through. The older gnoll started to cry out for his leader but the bark died in his throat. An instant after Grawltak appeared the black knight followed. He hadn't really believed she could reach them so quickly. Kark's heart sank and he let his head fall. He heard Grawltak curse and his leader moved to him quickly.

"Kark! What happened?"

There was nothing to do but tell the story of his failure. Without looking at the black knight directly, Kark gasped and panted through the tale of the ambush. He made no excuses, and when he looked up he was surprised to see pity in his leader's eyes.

Pity vanished in the raw gasp of a sword leaving its sheath.

Both gnolls looked over at the black knight. The point of her sword hovered only inches from their eyes. The blade trembled slightly and they knew it was rage, not fear or weakness, making the sword tip dance.

"Mistress! No!" Grawltak cried.

Kark continued panting but didn't move.

"He failed. Would you rather I held you responsible?" the blackguard said. Her voice was smooth, almost conversational, and she moved closer.

The blade slid directly under at Kark's chin, but the woman's pale face and bright eyes turned toward the gnoll leader. Her black hair seemed to shine in the flickering light of the gate.

Grawltak looked at his old lieutenant. There was only resignation in Kark's eyes. He expected to be killed, here and now.

"Yes," Grawltak said. "It was my decision to put him in charge. It was my responsibility."

Kark opened his mouth to gasp in surprise, but that made his lower jaw hit the blade and he closed it again. The woman, however, simply cocked an eyebrow and smiled in amusement.

"Gnolls aren't supposed to be loyal to each other, Grawltak," she purred. The gnoll leader started at the sound of his name on his mistress's hps, but he recovered his composure quickly. "Perhaps you are a little like dogs, after all." A moment later she put up her sword. "Very well. Don't think I've spared either of your hides yet. If we don't gain control of this city...." she said ominously, gazing around for the first time. It was a long gaze, and it gave the two gnolls a few moments to recover and for Kark to gulp down a little water.

It was unnerving, though, the way the blackguard stood there, her eyes gleaming and her lips curled into the human version of a smile, Grawltak thought.

When Kark recovered, Grawltak said, "Let's go, then."

Waking out of her reverie, the black knight looked down at the two gnolls and nodded. Kark turned to retrace his steps back into the city but a word from the blackguard halted him.

"No, there is no time," the woman said as she pulled off her pack and drew a large bedroll from a pouch that was much too small to hold any such thing.

Magic, Grawltak supposed. He'd had just about enough of magic, he decided, but the gnoll leader remained silent as his mistress cut the straps and shook out the blanket. No, not a blanket, he saw clearly, but a carpet. Kark snarled with fear as Grawltak tried to understand what his mistress was doing.

Stepping onto the carpet the knight simply said, "Come here. Hurry."

She sat cross-legged in the center and Kark hesitantly crawled over the fabric to plop down beside her, his ears pressed flat against his head. He dug his claws into the carpet and looked at Grawltak. The older gnoll whimpered slightly with apprehension.

Suddenly, Grawltak knew how his mistress planned on traveling. His stomach tightened but he stepped onto the carpet. Almost immediately, he felt it ripple and move beneath him. Without a doubt, Grawltak knew he would not enjoy the next stage of the trip at all.

 

 

"We did it!" Regdar shouted as they entered the base of the palace.

No one greeted them. A few of the smoke creatures hovered near the stairs, but when the outsiders approached, the creatures fled up onto the next floor. The party looked around.

"He said he'd be up in the tower at the Opal Throne," Naull offered.

"Which way is that?"

As if to answer Alhandra's question, one of the mephits slid down the right banister and bounced to a stop at Regdar's feet. The fighter bent toward it but the creature hopped back up onto the rail and slid up and away. The heroes understood, following hurriedly up the staircase. The mephit led them to a wall at the top where a door slid open, revealing a circular closet with no ceiling.

"What? In here?" Regdar asked.

Krusk craned his neck and looked up inside the doorway. The smooth, rounded walls extended to the end of the half-orc's sight.

The creature bounced again and Naull took it as a nod. Cautiously, the wizard stepped into the room and took a deep breath. Alhandra followed with Regdar beside her. Krusk didn't venture inside until the mephit's bobbing became jumps of agitation, and the half-orc finally shuffled in.

The door slid shut and the adventurers heard a rush of steam below their feet. Warm air blew up all around them and a distinctly hot fog enveloped their feet, ankles, and lower legs. Naull bent to see if there was a vent near the floor, but Krusk bellowed in surprise and lurched against her. Naull tried to push the half-orc away and feel around for the vent but when her hands reached the "floor" she realized it wasn't there.

"We're flying!" Naull shouted.

Regdar put a hand out to touch one of the white walls but Alhandra seized his wrist in alarm. When the party peered closely at the sides of the chamber they realized the uniform walls were moving by very quickly. And, while it felt like they still stood on firm ground, Naull explained to the party that they were actually standing on a cushion of smoke and air.

"How did they do this?" Alhandra asked. After the initial shock, the paladin seemed to enjoy the trip.

"I wish I knew," Naull answered with obvious envy.

She looked over at Regdar, who returned her glance. He, too, looked like the ride met with his approval. Krusk, however, stood close to the center of the room clutching his elbows and holding his eyes tightly shut. Alhandra broke out of her wonder at the magic to step up to the half-orc's side. She touched his bicep and his eyes popped open. Naull and Regdar watched as the paladin whispered something to Krusk and the barbarian seemed to relax slightly. He took two deep breaths and nodded.

"Look!" Naull said, pointing up.

From the ground none of them had been able to see any end to the white walls, but now a dark ceiling approached rapidly. Krusk bellowed but even as he scrambled to put his hands over his head, their upward movement slowed, then stopped. They came to rest at least twenty feet below the ceiling and a moment later, one of the white walls opened, letting some of the mist spill through. With Krusk leading, the four adventurers exited the tower, followed by the mephit.

"Solid ground," Krusk grumbled, stomping.

Naull and Regdar grinned at each other but looked up as Alhandra stepped beside them and stopped suddenly, her hand smacking into Naull's back.

Slightly annoyed, the wizard twisted toward the paladin but then her eyes caught sight of the world around her and she forgot the bruise on her back.

From street level, the minaret of the White Tower looked like a bright flame at the end of a tall, white staff. Even though Naull knew they stood in a planar area between the Elemental Plane of Fire and the Material Plane, she'd assumed the flaming tower was no more than an illusion, a bit of glamour to give the White Tower more visual impact. Palaces were supposed to be brilliant and even Naull had been to enough cities to see that rulers spared no expense to decorate their homes and impress visitors.

They've outdone themselves here, Naull thought.

She ignored the white stone of the wall behind them. The rest of the room was fascinating. The floor looked rough and red below her feet, like molten lava, but it felt smooth and firm and the wizard sensed no heat rising through her boots. Flowing out from the center, the lava floor stopped at the walls, if she could call them walls, and Naull followed slowly, her left hand outstretched. The walls were transparent and appeared to be—no, they were, the wizard decided with conviction—made wholly out of live flame. Red, orange, gold, and yellow tongues danced up from the edge of the tower's floor, but did not mar her view of the city below. It was, indeed, as if she was in the midst of a torch's fiery end, but the air felt cool and comfortable.

"Welcome to the Opal Throne," a voice behind her said.

It was Gurn, and as Naull slowly turned she saw her companions doing the same, marveling at the tower's structure and the view beyond.

If the tower itself was impressive, however, the Opal Throne was magnificent. There was no doubt the chair the azer stood by was the Opal Throne—it could be nothing else—and Naull felt herself gasp as she looked at it for the first time.

Carved from a single giant opal, the throne's smooth, round features made it appear comfortable and welcoming. The light of the flaming walls gave the whiteness an almost living hue, and Naull felt that if she sat on the throne she would feel warm, secure, and comfortable. Indeed, the arms of the chair appeared to open for her as she watched. Naull stepped forward.

"A gift from the Elemental Plane of Earth," the azer said, stepping in front of it.

Naull shook her head and blinked. Was I actually thinking of sitting in the throne? she wondered. The thought was ludicrous. Looking around, however, she saw Alhandra and Regdar both looking as if they were coming out of a similar reverie. Krusk, however, had a hard look in his eyes and he scowled at the white seat.

Regdar spoke first. "We did it," he said simply. "We killed all the gnolls but one. They hadn't gone more than a quarter of a mile from the gate when we ambushed them. One escaped, but he was wounded."

The azer nodded and asked, "The blackguard?"

"There was no sign of her," Alhandra answered, but she sounded uneasy.

Gurn frowned and tugged at his fiery beard. He turned toward the Opal Throne.

"She is coming," Krusk announced.

The azer turned back and looked at the half-orc, and the rest of the party turned to Krusk as well.

"How do you know?" Naull asked.

"The gnoll's leader. The one who bears the axe and sword. He was not there."

"No," Regdar said, "the leader was the old one. He was just on the edge of the fireball. He barely escaped."

Naull thought back to the inn yard and with a sinking feeling she remembered.

"Krusk's right. When we dropped the packet, I remember an old gnoll and a gnoll with two weapons. The younger one was shouting orders, I think. It was all so fast..." She held up a hand as Regdar started to speak. Turning to Krusk, Naull asked, "But why does that mean the blackguard is coming?"

"She follows my trail. In the desert, the gnolls struck first, but the black knight came after. Her hounds follow our scent and she comes behind."

"Maybe she got left behind, in the caves?" Alhandra offered.

The half-orc remained firm. "The gnoll with two weapons was the pack leader. He would not let another lead his pack without a terrible reason. Someone he fears commanded him to stay behind. She comes with him now."

"Why would she want him to—" Regdar argued, but Alhandra interrupted.

"Regdar, if Krusk's right, we don't have any time to waste. Even if he isn't, we have little to lose by being thorough."

The fighter thought for a moment, then nodded and said, "All right, so what do we do?"

Regdar looked over at Naull, but the wizard turned toward Krusk and Gurn.

"It's their show, I guess," she said, jerking her thumb toward the half-orc and the azer.

The azer agreed. "Come here," he gestured toward Krusk.

All the companions moved toward the Opal Throne. With a mild shock, Naull saw that it wasn't completely white after all. Along the back and sides were small, inscribed or enchanted circles of nearly translucent flame. Outside the city's protective aura, she suspected, those flames would burn without touching.

Each sigil appeared slightly different from every other, but they all looked at least a little like the key Krusk bore. When the half-orc drew it out the talisman blazed to life again, hovering slightly above his palm.

"Each of these circles once belonged to a lord of the Material Plane, or of Fire," the azer explained. "A lord could sit on the Opal Throne and open the conduits between the two planes, summoning forth spirits or beings of either, compelling them to serve by the same ancient compact that allowed us to build the city.

"The last lord of Secrustia Nar, corrupted by the perversions of the efreet, tried to command evil spirits of fire to invade the Material Plane, but we stopped him," the warden said, suddenly looking very old. He shook off the memory quickly, however, and continued, "We trapped his spirit in the Negative Energy Plane and he cannot be released while the city stands. All the lords surrendered their keys, except one." The azer pointed to the flame flickering in Krusk's meaty palm. "One was kept hidden, in case of disaster, in case we needed to open the gates again."

"Um..." Naull broke in when the azer paused. "I hate to interrupt, but why would you need to open them again? I mean, if no one was going to live here, then—"

"Some of the last lord's followers escaped," Gurn interrupted. The flames in his eyes were dark, like smoldering charcoal, and they matched the anger in his voice. "They followed dark gods and made evil bargains, and never gave up searching for a way to bring fire to the lands beyond the Elemental Planes. They sought ways to rescue the last lord of the city, too, but while the key remained hidden, that road remained barred."

"The blackguard ..." Alhandra said, her voice full of dread.

The azer nodded in agreement and said, "Hextor, God of Tyranny, Champion of Evil, Herald of Hell, and Scourge of Battle—he granted boons to those of the last lord's followers who worshiped him. They pledged themselves to the service of chaos in return for escaping our justice. Hextor always delights in cheating his brother of justice."

The fiery dwarf chuckled grimly and Naull looked from Gurn to Alhandra in alarm. The woman's white face was pale but she nodded once, sharply.

"Heironeous," she said.

The wizard saw the paladin's hand go to the emblem on her breastplate, the bolt of lightning in the grip of a strong fist.

"Heironeous," Gurn agreed, then he turned back to the throne, touching sigils quickly. "The war between gods spills onto mortals yet again. When you told me a blackguard was responsible for the burning of Kalpesh, the slaughter of the last Protector, and the pursuit of the key, I knew it would come to this."

"Do you know—" Regdar paused briefly—"her?"

The azer chuckled even as he worked. "No, no. At least, I hope not! No," he concluded at last, "but I know of her and her type. Blackguards rose in the city even as the last lord took power, and the worshipers of Hextor were chief among them. I am certain she is of the order of those who served the last lord and she has somehow gained knowledge of the key, and of the Opal Throne's power."

He turned his back on the heroes then, making a few more passes across the Opal Throne. Whatever ritual he performed was complicated, but Gurn continued talking.

"So now the key and the throne threaten our very existence. An evil creature who controlled the Opal Throne could command the forces of Fire, or release the dark one from his bonds."

Gurn finished and looked back at the companions somberly.

"It is time to return the key to the throne and shut the gate to the City of Fire forever."

He held out one brass-colored hand. Krusk slowly offered the glowing, hovering ball of fire to the azer.

But even as Krusk did so, Gurn started in surprise. Looking down, he saw an arrow protruding from his chest. Gazing up at the flickering walls of the tower, he pointed over the half-orc's shoulder.

Blasting through the flame came the black knight and two gnolls mounted on a flying carpet. The old gnoll had its bow in its hand and was already nocking another arrow. The younger gnoll leaped down off the carpet as soon as it passed through the flames, its axe in one hand and the vicious, hooked scimitar bare in the other. The gnoll leader howled its anger and hate as it charged.

"Look out!" Regdar shouted uselessly, pulling his sword from its sheath and trying to roll away from the swooping carpet, but he stumbled in his heavy armor and had to catch himself to keep from falling.

The old gnoll fired its second arrow at the azer, but Gurn dived behind the throne and the shaft broke against the wall. Krusk hesitated for a moment, then forced himself to toss the key under the throne. Sweeping out his axe, he returned the gnoll's war cry with a bellow of his own and sprang into battle.

Naull cursed as she fumbled with her new wand. Krusk was almost on top of the blackguard by the time she could aim and the explosion could crisp the half-orc along with the invaders if she spoke the command word. With her free hand she tried to find something in her component pouches that might prove useful, but she'd cast most of her best spells down in the cavern. The rest of her arsenal wouldn't prove more than a moment's annoyance to the blackguard.

Meanwhile, Regdar finished righting himself and Alhandra recovered from her surprise. The two followed Krusk into the fray. The older gnoll dropped its bow and leaped from the carpet just as Alhandra stabbed up at it with her sword. The blade tore the edge of the carpet but missed the gnoll. The humanoid drew its axe and circled around, trying to put the paladin between itself and its leader.

Regdar and the leader squared off near the white wall at the center of the room. The gnoll leader snarled and Regdar nearly growled himself. So intent was the fighter on the gnoll's two weapons that he failed to notice the black knight. After the older gnoll had jumped, she twisted the carpet around and leaped down lightly—amazingly lightly, considering her armor—behind the fighter. As the uncontrolled carpet fluttered down between the knight and Krusk, she moved to strike Regdar in the back.

Krusk bellowed, slashing with his greataxe around the fabric. He missed, but his shout of anger alerted Regdar and the fighter spun just in time to parry with his new sword. The two weapons rang and dark light from the blackguard's blade contrasted with the flaming walls. The black knight moved in to bind, and when the blades locked at the hilt, she pushed Regdar back toward the gnoll leader, laughing as she did so.

But Regdar refused to give much ground. He allowed the black knight to make him take one step back but just as it appeared he'd fall to the waiting gnoll leader's attack, Regdar pressed a small gem on the hilt of his bastard sword. The blade burst into flame and the blackguard sprang back, cursing. The flame singed her long hair but otherwise she appeared unhurt. One wave of the flaming brand made the gnoll spring away and Regdar turned back to the armored woman.

"I'll make you pay for that, filth!" she cried out in anger.

The old gnoll dueling with Alhandra was still hurting from the ambush, but it seemed to have a lifetime of dirty tricks to draw on. It feinted and circled, panting, trying to entice its fresher opponent into an unwary strike. Alhandra desperately wanted to dispatch this creature with the gray snout and help Regdar, but she let her training take over. She kept her impatience in check and did not charge as the gnoll expected. Indeed, the old gnoll took the paladin's hesitation for fear and its tongue lolled in anticipation. Springing forward suddenly, it brought its two-handed axe down in a smashing blow.

The attack was just what Alhandra was waiting for. At the last moment, she leaned to her right and let the axe hammer against her shield. Instead of an arm-jarring blow, however, the axe blade slid down the finely-worked metal and the gnoll stumbled. Alhandra slashed quickly at the humanaid's side. With a choking cry, the creature dropped its axe and fell to the floor. Dark blood poured out to spread in an almost invisible pool against the lava-colored floor. The paladin looked around for her true foe.

 

 

Seeing Kark fall beneath the paladin's blade, Grawltak felt a howl of grief rise in his throat, but he refused to let it out. He had the half-orc backed up against the Opal Throne and the barbarian's raging blows could not get past Grawltak's two weapons. As the half-orc surged forward again, Grawltak swept his hooked scimitar low and wide. The spike caught the half-orc just above the ankle. With a tug, Grawltak used the hook to trip him, then sprang back as the barbarian's awkward blow bit into the floor. The gnoll then hurled his hand axe at the half-orc and the missile sliced into the patchwork mail protecting the surprised barbarian's shoulder. The blade cut deep into gray flesh. Stepping forward, Grawltak stabbed at the barbarian who parried the blow with a wild swing and scrambled away.

 

 

Naull was the only one of the companions standing near the Opal Throne. She rushed to the azer's side and saw he'd already drawn the arrow from his chest and looked remarkably unhurt.

"Where is the key?" he asked.

Naull got on her hands and knees. She had seen Krusk toss it under the throne and it took only a few moments of blind fumbling for her to find it with her fingertips. The flickering flames made the disk hard for her to grasp, but the wizard managed to draw it toward her an inch at a time.

A howl of anger and pain distracted her. Looking up, Naull nearly screamed when she saw the blackguard, her face a mask of hate and triumph, standing over Regdar. He knelt before her, his flaming sword gripped loosely in one hand and his other arm wrapped around his belly. Blood flowed freely as he looked up at his foe. She raised her sword and laughed. When the fighter turned away from the blow, his eyes met Naull's.

"Regdar," Naull whispered in anguish.

His eyes held pain and despair but she saw something else there, too; something soft that they shared, but never had time to talk about.

Naull's right hand found a spell pouch and she pointed at the blackguard. She spat the command word and a thin, icy beam shot out and struck the black knight in her armored side. A small, white button of frost appeared on the woman's torso.

The blackguard didn't even notice. The sword came down.

Before the blow could land, before Naull could close her eyes, a gleaming shape streaked up from behind the blackguard. Silver arms wrapped around dark steel and both shapes crashed against the stone floor.

Alhandra had crossed the room in a flash, skirting past the gnoll leader and Krusk to tackle the blackguard from her blind side. They tumbled across the floor in a tangle of screeching metal.

The gnoll leader had seen the paladin dash by and tried to hook her with his curved blade, only to miss and curse its slowness. It cursed again for good measure when its mistress hit the floor. The gnoll stood momentarily alone, the only one in the room still on its feet, then it saw Naull lying beside the Opal Thone. Baring its teeth in a snarl of cruelty, the gnoll stepped toward the wizard.

If the gnoll leader saw Naull draw the red-tipped wand from her belt and point it just above its head, it showed no sign.

"Secrus!" she exclaimed, and the bead streaked out to a point barely above the gnoll's canine head.

When it exploded, the edge of the flame reached just short of Krusk and within inches of the bleeding Regdar, but its full fury engulfed the gnoll leader.

When the flames cleared moments later, only the gnoll's charred and crumbling corpse was left behind. Naull barely saw it as she struggled to her feet, so intent was she on reaching Regdar.

The wizard took one step, then two, then felt herself halt suddenly. It was as if something gripped her by the side. When Naull looked down, she wondered at the black steel jutting out from her midriff. Her eyes followed it to a hilt, and a black gauntlet, but pain clouded her vision before she could follow it farther. With a shudder, the wizard dropped her wand and heard it clatter against the blood-spattered floor.

"Well, that's about it, then," a voice said in her ear.

Naull struggled to turn her head and saw the blackguard's face only inches away. She fought to focus her mind and shut out the pain. In the throbbing haze, one corner of her mind noted how similar were this pale face framed with long, dark hair, and Alhandra's. Then her legs collapsed and she slid from the blade.

Lying on her side, Naull thought of Regdar and wondered if he still lived. She wondered, too, if the blackguard would place a foot on her chest as Alhandra had done to the gnoll in the street before delivering the final blow. Instead of feeling the black steel bite into her neck, however, she heard a clash of metal and a cry of pain. Turning her neck with a shudder, Naull saw Regdar swaying on his feet, his normally dark face pale from loss of blood. He staggered toward the black-armored woman, his flaming sword trailing sparks along the floor. Behind him, Alhandra struggled forward on one knee, hand outstretched. She seemed to be trying to say something, but when she opened her mouth, only blood sputtered forth.

The blackguard turned back from the grisly pair and looked down at Naull again.

"Give me that," she said coldly.

At first, the wizard didn't understand, then she looked at her hand that was pinned under her body and saw the fiery key hovering above it. She didn't know how it did that; perhaps its magic had been activated when she touched it beneath the throne. Either way, the blackguard wanted it, and for some reason she was waiting for Naull to give it to her.

The wizard didn't move at first, then the blackguard crouched down, reaching toward Naull's bloodstreaked hand.

With a desperate effort, Naull pushed away. She was surprised at the strength still in her arms. The pain in her midsection flared like icy blades and her body left a bloody smear on the floor where she passed. It hurt even more to use her legs, but dragging herself with only her arms was so slow. With despair she realized that she was only behind the throne, bare yards from where she started.

The blackguard's ebony gauntlet gripped her shoulder and Naull cried out weakly in shock. As the hand tugged her back, Naull gritted her teeth and threw the key away from her as far as she could.

It wasn't much of a throw. The key bounced and skittered like a flaming coal jumping out of a fireplace and came to rest about a dozen feet away. Naull heard the blackguard curse and felt the metal gauntlet smash against her ear.

"Fool!" the raven-haired woman spat in annoyance.

Standing over the fallen wizard she looked at the key and at the bleeding woman. Victory was in her grasp. Naull saw the blade glint above her face. Weakly she pawed at her spell pouches. She thought of Trebba spending her last breath to stab the orc lieutenant and desperately hoped she could find something that might save her companions.

The wizard's probing fingers found the small black bead taken from the orc lair. Naull hadn't fully identified it yet, but when she discerned its magical nature she knew it was an evocation spell of some sort. Now it was her only hope. She drew it out and threw it up at the blackguard and the raised sword.

The black bead struck the knight's armor with a small tink! For a brief instant, neither Naull nor the blackguard thought it would have any effect. Then with a roar of displaced air, the space around the two exploded.

 

 

Alhandra stumbled over to Regdar and the two lurched forward. Regdar collapsed just feet from the edge of the explosion and coughed blood. Reaching out with a mailed fist, he felt it stop against an invisible field of force.

Naull lay inside a bubble of force. Regdar couldn't tell whether she was alive or dead, but he saw her wound and kept trying to touch her. The force wall stopped him, and he sagged against it.

A warm lightness swelled up against his back and Regdar felt himself regaining some of his strength. He blinked and spat out blood. Turning, he saw Alhandra with blood on her chin as well. She was concentrating gravely as she put her hands on his back, and Regdar felt his wound healing.

She stopped almost immediately and while Regdar knew he was still hurt, he also knew he would live. Alhandra staggered to her feet and looked around. When she saw Krusk lying to one side with the azer tending his wound, she walked slowly toward him.

Regdar turned back to Naull.

A sword clashed against the force wall just as he put his hand up against it. Reflexively, the fighter jumped to his feet.

Inside the bubble of force stood the blackguard, the symbol of Hextor emblazoned in red upon her dark armor. She looked a little worse for wear, her face dark from bruises and her hair singed and tangled. She screamed angrily at Regdar and pounded futilely against the bubble. Regdar ignored her and looked down.

Naull lay at the blackguard's feet. He thought she was unconscious—he even hoped she was unconscious—but then she turned her face toward him and he almost looked away. Her features were scorched and bloody and one eye looked as if it might be damaged beyond normal healing. She reached up and put her hand against the bubble.

"Naull..." Regdar said, pressing his hand to the wall near hers.

The wizard coughed bubbles of blood.

"Got her ..." she said, and smiled grotesquely.

The blackguard cursed but they both ignored her.

"Are you...?" Regdar didn't complete the question. "How did you ...?" He gestured.

"Bead of force," she answered feebly. "Figured it had to be something. Didn't think it would be this good." She smiled weakly, then coughed again and said, "Get the key."

Regdar didn't move. Alhandra stood behind him, however, looking a little better. She felt her way around the invisible bubble to the flaming key. The paladin picked it up and brought it back, then showed it to Naull, who smiled again.

The blackguard's eyes lit up. She brandished her sword and pointed its dark tip at Naull's chest. The wizard didn't react.

"That's it, little sister," the blackguard taunted, holding the sword in one hand and beckoning with the other. "Give me the key, and I will spare your friend. I can heal her, you know."

Alhandra hesitated.

"Can she?" Regdar asked. His voice sounded hollow.

The paladin looked at Naull, then the floor, then back at Regdar, and said, "Not like I do. If she ever served a power of light, Hextor has perverted her ability. He grants the power to destroy, not to heal others."

Alhandra locked gazes with the blackguard.

"Oh?" The blackguard sneered. She tossed her head back and laughed cruelly. Pulling out a short, stoppered bottle, she dangled it in front of the paladin. "Even a servant of Hextor can pour a potion down a girl's throat."

"Alhandra—" Regdar said, pleading.

The paladin nodded, defeated. She held up the key and they watched as a smile grew on the blackguard's face.

"No," coughed Naull, spitting more blood. Regdar saw that she was weakening quickly. Whatever was keeping her conscious was killing her as well. "No, Regdar, you mustn't. She'll kill us all. You don't have much time."

Krusk and the azer joined them. The half-orc pressed his hand against the bubble and tears rolled down his gray cheeks. Naull looked up at him and tried to smile but the pain was too great. She only grimaced.

Gurn said solemnly, "She is correct. I have prepared the throne, but the ritual is fading. If we do not complete it and place the key in its spot, we cannot try again for at least another day."

"Naull," Regdar started to say, but she shook her head. Her eyes were open and clear. Refusing to look away from his partner, Regdar nodded. "All right. Do it."

Ignoring the blackguard's threats and curses, Alhandra handed the key to Krusk and Gurn told the half-orc to sit in the chair.

"Put your right hand here and hold the key with your left," he said.

Alhandra and Regdar stayed at the edge of the bubble. Regdar knelt there, his hand covering Naull's and his eyes shining with grief. The expression exchanged between Alhandra and the blackguard was pure hatred.

"I will kill you for this, little sister," the blackguard spat at her. "I have marked you, paladin of Heironeous, and I will find you again. As Hextor has sworn eternal hatred for his loathsome brother, I swear my hatred for you!"

"likewise," the paladin replied coolly.

Naull looked to be unconscious, but she still breathed shallowly. Regdar said her name quietly as the azer and Krusk began the last element of the ritual. The blackguard turned away from Alhandra and looked down at the pair, contempt plain on her features.

"As for her..." the black knight purred.

Regdar looked up at her sharply. His eyes met the blackguard's and she looked amused at his rage.

"This bubble won't hold me forever, and I'll have her for company in the meantime."

Regdar stood and brandished his sword. If he was about to make a threat, however, Gurn interrupted it. "Now!" the azer yelled, and Regdar turned just in time to see Krusk slam the flaming key against the Opal Throne.

The entire tower bucked. Alhandra barely kept her feet and Regdar didn't, falling back against the bubble of force, then landing heavily on the stone floor. He peered into the bubble trying to see Naull's face again but the quake turned her body away from his.

Scrambling to his feet he shouted, "What's happening?"

Krusk stood up from the throne as Gurn answered, "The gates are being closed and the city will return to fire. Secrustia Nar is no more."

Gurn looked both sad and relieved when he said this, but Regdar reacted with alarm.

"What about them?"

He turned back to the bubble as the ground shook again. A crack appeared in the white wall and he felt the temperature rapidly rising.

"No time!" Alhandra shouted. "We have to leave!"

With an anguished look back at the bubble, Regdar let Krusk drag him away. The blackguard, rather than looking afraid for her life or even angry that her scheme was thwarted, looked at him with that same smile of taunting satisfaction she'd shown moments before. She knelt by Naull's side and said something, but Regdar couldn't hear over the thunder around him.

"Listen!" the azer said. The harshness of Gum's voice jarred Regdar out of his reverie and he looked at the fiery dwarf. "My mephit servants—they should be able to get you back to the street, but then you must run for the gate. There isn't much time. I'm sorry for your friend; I did not think the collapse would happen so quickly."

Regdar wanted to argue, but another rumble interrupted him. More cracks appeared in the white wall and the floors. A mephit, followed by a dozen more, swirled up around him. He felt himself lifted off the ground then he landed heavily again. He swatted at the azer's servants and growled.

"Come on," Alhandra pleaded with the fighter.

Regdar saw the creatures of smoke and fire try to lift her as well. She did not resist, but they had trouble anyway.

"Your armor," the azer said. "It may be too heavy."

"No!" Krusk said suddenly. "Here!"

He threw something heavy at their feet.

It was the blackguard's carpet, torn and singed, but when Alhandra stepped cautiously aboard it rippled to life.

"Come on," she yelled again, reaching out to Regdar. The fighter turned back toward the bubble but Alhandra grabbed him. Lurching with surprise, Regdar stumbled onto the carpet, then tried again to pull away. A thick forearm wrapped around his neck from behind and squeezed, harder than anything Regdar had ever felt. He struggled with all his might without catching a wisp of breath. He twisted and kicked, but still felt himself being dragged inexorably backward onto the carpet. Regdar's eyes locked on Naull's body as darkness crept in from the edges of his vision. The carpet rose with Krusk cradling the fighter's unconscious body between his knees, rocking back and forth.

Standing on the shifting lava floor, the azer watched as the paladin steered the carpet through the minaret's swirling flame walls and out over the crumbling city.

 

 

Outside the tower, pieces of the building were breaking loose and falling away. The flaming walls flickered and blazed in surges of heat. This did not trouble Gurn. He did not fear the flames and he fingered a small ring that he knew would keep him from falling.

Moving around the throne to the bubble of force, the azer looked at the blackguard. She no longer smiled, but looked off into the sky at her departing enemies.

The azer moved around to face the blackguard.

"You have failed," he said simply.

She shrugged. "This time, slave, this time. Hextor hoped to gain a servant from my mission, and I hoped to gain powerful magic." Looking down at Naull's unconscious form she concluded, "perhaps all is not lost."

"You are," Gurn pronounced. More of the floor collapsed, beginning a long plummet to the burning city below. The bubble of force teetered near the edge of the broken tower. "I will see you burn, servant of Hextor. Secrustia Nar may be destroyed, but it will never serve evil again. And neither will you."

The blackguard laughed. She laughed as the fires erupted around the azer's feet and he glared at her and thought her mad. Before the rest of the tower could fall into the fire, however, she stopped laughing. Drawing an amulet from beneath her breastplate, she looked at it and placed it on the ground. A moment later, she chanted words in an ancient and foul language. A blue form rose from the disk and spoke to the blackguard in the same language. Nodding, the black knight knelt and picked up the disk and the body of the wizard.

The azer's eyes narrowed, but he could do nothing. With a last, jaunty wave, the blackguard, the wizard, and the disk winked away. Moments later, the tower groaned, twisted visibly, and toppled lengthwise. Gurn hovered above it and watched its long, graceful fall into the roiling flames. With a last look at the inferno that had been the white tower, the azer sighed and turned away.