The Tomb of the Dark Paladin (43 page)

"Zach! Zach!"

Zach stopped, but did not face his old friend.

"Where is the device?"

"With me," he replied, walking away once more. "It will be destroyed tonight!"

Carym summoned the inherent power of the Sigilstones to break the spell over him and regain his strength. It had become easier for him to use the stones and he rarely gave it a second thought. The dire warnings he'd received about being too free with their use seemed so excessive now. He suspected that his growth in the power over the Sigils was the most likely explanation. Within seconds, the powerful Tidal forces of the Flame Sigil surged into him, burning away the vestiges of Balzath's Shadow magic and revitalizing his body and mind. His strength renewed by the seemingly inexhaustible power of the stones, he followed after them. He had to get the Tome of Sigils if there was to be any hope of stopping Umber. Could he really kill Zach if it became necessary? All of those thoughts left him as he entered the sacred chamber. He knew what he had to do, and he knew that Zach would or would not be saved. Carym would do his best, but Zach's fate was now a matter of his own choosing.

The immense chamber housing the Everpool was pleasant and warm. Crumbling statues and the remnants of old columns ringed the perimeter of the golden waters at the chamber's center. It was once a temple during ancient times. The floor was made of marble that was perhaps once white and the walls were decorated with murals of beings that were either gods or immortals, but degradation over time made it impossible to tell for certain. The crumbling statues surrounding the golden water that still had their heads intact seemed to peer intently into the depths of the holy water. The pervasive sense of impending doom that Carym had been fighting was slowly replaced by a profound sense of serenity and holiness. There was no doubt in Carym's mind that this was a sacred place.

He looked longingly at the waves, shimmering with a mystical light from within. Legend said that peering into the waves of the Everpool could tell a person much about themselves that they didn't know, perhaps even about one's future. Carym knew he must survive his current predicament before he could even think about such luxury. 

Balzath and the remaining hurkin guard were at the far end of the chamber, filling containers with the mystical water while Zach seemed to be staring mindlessly into the pool. They had not seen him enter the chamber yet. Carym spotted a small alcove in the wall on one side of the chamber as he looked across the water. Silently, he made his way towards that alcove moving from statue to statue; amazed that no one had seen him. Finally, he made it to a point where he could see into the alcove. He guessed rightly. The altar was there and atop the altar was a large leather bound tome. Carym looked back at Zach desperate to think of a way to save his old friend from himself. 

"While you're staring at your reflection, handsome, help fill these bottles! It's why we came here in the first place!" the witch said to Zach angrily. Zach seemed to shake off the effects of the magical pool and did as he was told. Balzath had quite a few empty bottles on hand, Carym assumed they would be busy for a few minutes. He wondered idly if Zach would repay his debt to the Spiders, or if he would even return to Hybrand. Carym had to stop himself from thinking about home, it was a place he missed so very much.  

Carym saw the wistful look in Zach's eyes as he dutifully dipped stoppered jars into the water. Seeing the same mesmerized look on the faces of the statutes gazing into the pool, Carym wondered if there was a silent warning here. These figures, whose sculptors doubtless intended them to be representative of great beings, had learned the hard lessons of their pride. The longer he looked, the more he seemed to feel like he knew these beings. It was as though he could see the face of many of them, and somehow knew their names. First he recognized Ulrych's kind face and then Zerva, Zervish, Grymm, Q'raz and Umber. Though the statue of Ulrych was not truly looking at him, Carym sensed something there. A presence perhaps? The warm light emanating from the pool reflected in the statue's eyes and soothed his mind. He put the thoughts of home and friends aside and focused on his task.

The Tome of Sigils was awe inspiring. The Tome lay upon a small pedestal within the alcove, a rich cloth beneath it. He was afraid to touch it; not because he thought there were traps, though there certainly could have been, but because it felt holy, pure. He couldn't see anything to lead him to believe there were traps, but he had to admit he wasn't very good at finding them anyway. Still, the situation warranted caution. He inspected the Tome visually from every angle. It was bound in leather, worked with gold and silver, and ancient scripts flowed beautifully around its perimeter and along its spine. A wheel was inlaid on the cover and each spoke bore the symbol of each of the six Sigils of power. A golden strap with a small lock kept the Tome closed. Carym wondered where the key would be. Perhaps there was some knowledge in it that would help him destroy Balzath. He felt more and more drawn to open the book. He closed his eyes and let his mind show him the world through the Tidal currents, and the dazzling array of multicolored light streams made him squint, even though his eyes were closed. Finally, he gave up, there was just too much power about this book for him to try to sense if there were spells of protection about it. 

"Hurry up!" a shout echoed loudly through the cave, startling Carym. "And don't drink any of that water!"

Hurkin were notorious warriors; intelligent, powerful and skilled in combat. There were those among them who were gifted with magic, some said more gifted than even those of other races. But they were possessed of an innate greed and lust for power that had been bred into their race for millennia. And even here in this sacred chamber, this hurkin was no different than any other. When he was certain the witch wasn't looking, the warrior reached a cupped hand into the pool and drank from it.

The hurkin stood to full height, laughing at the powerful witch. He shouted at her in Hurkromish, a challenge in his stance. The witch glanced at the babbling warrior and his provocative stance and immediately understood what he had done. She cast a withering stare at the hurkin and began a spell intended to destroy the creature. Before the witch could finish her spell, the hurkin's flesh erupted in flames. In a panic the crazed warrior shouted in pain and ran towards the witch. Balzath pointed a finger at the immolated hurkin and a bolt of 
darkfire
 shot across the space between them, slamming into her guard. The hurkin stumbled and fell over the edge of the pool, arms flailing. He disappeared into the water with a great sizzling cloud of vapor. A horrible stench wafted through the air. The water in pool darkened, its natural luminescence seemingly tainted by the corrupted body that fell into it. 

Temptation is a powerful tool, he thought wryly. That is how Umber ensnares his followers. Temptation, lies and false promises of power.

Carym was grateful for that distraction but he sensed that a terrible thing had just occurred, the flow of the Tides had been greatly disturbed. He took advantage of the witch's inattention and lifted the Tome from its alcove. He strapped the heavy tome to his back with leather straps affixed to the tome itself and looked out at the Everpool with longing. Temptation. Even now there were stirrings in the heavens and the Hells where the forces of each side fought supernatural battles for the fate of the world. Carym had learned much of the Dark Lord's methods and his powers, and even of the hierarchy of the immortal beings who served him. But the most important thing Carym learned was to be on guard for the seductiveness of the Shadows, it was a constant struggle.

Rohan had told Carym that nothing would prevent the temptations and lies of the Dark One from reaching his mind, although his training would help him recognize them for what they were and his faith would help him repel them. Even now his mind was being assaulted by the powers of the Shadowfyr, the temptations of the power within the Tome of Sigils and in the Everpool were so great that he almost stopped walking. He wondered if he could somehow use the Tome and the learn the secrets of the Everpool. Then he might be able to challenge Umber and rid the world of Umber's evil once and for all. The thought of commanding such power was exhilarating, intoxicating. 

The Tidal flows swirled and crashed in waves about his feet urging him to move onward, snapping him out of the trance he was in. These hints of power were empty promises. He knew his purpose: get the Tome of Sigils and return with it to Bishop Rohan's knowledgeable and trustworthy hands. The rest would sort itself out. He put his trust in Zuhr and turned away from the temptations of the Everpool, seeking an exit.

As the vapor dissipated and the waters of the Everpool returned to normal, the witch spotted Carym. She did not seem surprised when she spotted his prize. He turned to flee and felt an angry surge in the Tides about his feet. Dark rivulets of energy latched onto his legs and pulled them out from under him. The force of the attack spun him in the air so that when he landed, he was lying on his back. He wanted to panic, he wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The witch had spoken truly when she said the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Yet he was lying on the hard ground, unable to move.

"Thank you for finding that for me, dear boy," she said sweetly, sauntering over to stand by him. She leaned down to his level, flaunting her figure and delivering a heady dose of perfume. "Why don't you rest there for a while, hmm? I promise to provide you with a very entertaining show!" She gave Carym a smile and, humming happily to herself, strolled back to where she was occupying herself with a circle she had created on the floor. She knew exactly what she was doing. She did not kill him before because she needed him to find the Tome, as it had been hidden from the eyes of all who would follow the Shadow. Now that Carym had found it, the woman just wanted him out of the way. Zach's earlier words drifted through his head: 
I'm going to destroy it.

The thought was profoundly disturbing. The magical device that Zach had stolen from him was a relic from ancient times when the Fyrbold were powerful and revered among all the peoples of Llars. It was a device that was capable of great magic, it could manipulate the fabric of space and time and allow one to cross between realms of existence. What was there to be gained from its destruction? Was she trying to get at Mathonry? Surely he had protections against such attacks. 

Carym took stock of his situation as the icy tendrils of the witch's power tried to cut him off from the Tides. But Carym possessed the Sigilstones as well as the Tome of Sigils and had thwarted the witch's magic once already.

The statues surrounding the pool seemed impossibly intent, perhaps even watching the proceedings through stony eyes.  When Carym's gaze came to rest on Umber's visage, an icy fear pervaded his thoughts. He broke eye contact immediately but the dark presence lingered in his mind. Were the so-called gods of Llars watching them all even now, attempting to influence them indirectly?

He looked at the statue of Ulrych, and it seemed that wise eyes met his. He felt his body and mind calm and he regained his composure. He knew he could free himself again but he would need help. He used the power of the stones to unravel the bindings the witch placed upon him. He lay there for a moment longer, allowing the feeling to return to his limbs and he contemplated his next move. He wondered if Umber was able to communicate with Balzath directly through his statute; if so, Carym might not get very far. It seemed that Ulrych and Umber were evenly matched in this chamber. The others statues seemed as lifeless as they had before; a statue of Zuhr was conspicuously absent.

Carym stealthily rose to his feet and ducked behind the alcove, out of Balzath's view. Then something peculiar happened and the Tides wildly assaulted Carym's senses. The air became discernibly cooler and Balzath was forced to stop her spell casting. Shadows raced around the chamber this way and that finally meeting in one place where the shadows became a swirling vortex of shadowy, inky blackness. Then the shadows dissolved into nothing and a menacing figure was standing in its place; it was the Dark Paladin! Balzath gawked and backpedaled away from the advancing specter, trying to think of a spell with which to fight him. The imposing figure of the ghost advanced on Balzath, chuckling mercilessly as she tried to escape.

Even though the spirit of the Dark Paladin had found redemption in his final moments, Carym could not help but feel the awful power the spirit must have commanded in life. The intensity of that dark power was so strong that had it not been for his intent advancement on the dark witch, Carym wouldn't have been sure whose side the spirit was on now.