The Glass Prison

When they were finished, they stood and turned back to the half-orc priest and his followers.

"You can handle the rest," Arach told him.

"We have things to prepare for the master's arrival-in his real home," Gyrison said.

The two of them suddenly changed. The illusion of their appearance faded away, and they stretched their black, batlike wings behind them. Hideous, monstrous faces replaced their simple human features, and long, obsidian claws stretched out where soft hands once folded gently in front of them.

"Don't fail the master, human," one of them-Orrag could no longer tell them apart-said.

In a flash of fire and light the two demons departed, back, Orrag was sure, to the netherworld of the Abyss. He wasn't sorry to see them go. His men stood rigid, covered in sweat. The sight of those two should keep them in line, Orrag thought.

Everything was working perfectly.

Now all he needed was a little help from his ally, Vheod.

Chapter Sixteen

"I'm not as stupid as you must think," Whitlock told Mela

The three of them had walked the entire day and the summer heat had them all soaked in sweat. Hiking through the rough terrain, climbing over rocks and up and down steep slopes, proved to be a great deal more work than riding had been, and so the heat took its toll. They still hadn't reached the crypt of Chare'en, which they now knew to be the prison of Chare'en. They made camp, and Vheod moved out to find more game for their meal. Whitlock lent him his crossbow on a somewhat permanent basis, since Vheod hadn't been able to retrieve his sword, leaving him without a weapon.

With Vheod gone, the siblings spoke of the matters at hand.

"What do you mean?" Mela

Whitlock arranged the wood for a fire to boil what she'd gathered. "I've got eyes, sister," he said. "I know you're attracted to Vheod."

Mela

"I just don't think it's a very good idea." He pulled flint and steel from his belt pouch, striking it to set fire to the kindling he'd piled.

"You don't think what's a good idea?" Now Mela

"You and Vheod," he replied, spreading his hands wide and dropping the flint. "It's not that I don’t trust him, though I don't mind telling you I certainly didn't before. The growing attraction between the two of you made it worse, not better." He picked up the flint and began working it against the steel again.

"As I was saying, I do trust him now-he's earned that from us-but let's face the truth here, Mela

"He seems to prefer tanar'ri," Mela

"And he's only half tanar'ri," she said in his further defense.

Whitlock looked up from his work and grimaced. He began working at the fire again and said. "So you're in love with him, aren't you?"

"To be truthful, Whitlock, I don't know," Mela

Finally, a blaze started in the twigs and grass Whitlock had gathered. He prepared the wood to add once the fire really got going in earnest. He made a grunting noise and seemed to pause in thought for a moment. He didn't speak until the fire really started. "That's for the best, Mela

She wondered if she was indeed carrying out Chauntea's will. Everything she'd been taught had been about the Mother of All's love for growing things, and about nurturing and caring for others. Now Mela

Vheod returned with three quail. Soon the three travelers feasted on the roasted birds, garnished with the boiled roots and leaves that Mela

As Vheod laid back into the cool night grass, she moved to him and knelt wordlessly at his side. He looked at her and opened his mouth to speak. Mela

By morning the night's cool breezes had transformed into chilling winds. Dark clouds sped over the tops of the mountains like swarming warriors preparing for battle. Vheod saw that he was the last to wake. He thought for a moment about Mela

But no, that had been no dream, for Vheod's dreams had been filled with images of death and destruction. Haunting crimson images of battle and horrible monstrosities gathered in his mind, and he felt it better to just forget about the entire night. This new day held enough on which to focus itself. Today they would reach the prison of Chare'en.

At least, Vheod thought, there they would all find answers to the questions they'd asked for the last few days, or even for their entire lives. A cure for Mela

They ate some of the previous night's leftover food, washing it down with cold water from the stream at the bottom of the hill on which they had camped. Vheod took some time after the meal to make minor preparations to cast some magical spells that day. Some wizards needed to study in books or scrolls to prepare spells, but the Abyssal magic Vheod had learned required only that he ready some of the particular mental concepts in his mind-focusing on the central idea of each spell and placing it within his mind's eye.