The Lost Library of Cormanthyr (41 page)

Chomack’s battle-axe dropped to the top of the library shelves. Curious about the make and design, Baylee lifted it by the haft, finding it far lighter than any he’d ever hefted. A slight tingling raced through his arm. A hobgoblin reached up for him, wrapping its fingers around one of the ranger’s ankles. Instinctively, Baylee chopped with the battle-axe, amazed at how easily it parted flesh, muscle, and bone. The amputated arm dropped away as the hobgoblin roared in pain.

Using some of the ties on the gnomish armor, he secured the battle-axe, then draped it across his shoulders. The weight was negligible and it held to his back easily.

Turning his attention to the drow, Baylee raced across the remaining bookcases. The dark elf was past the halfway mark on the stairs.

Baylee sheathed the long sword and took out the enchanted rope again. Throwing it upward, he said the command word. The magic in the rope caused it to slither up at once. It attached to the tallest staircase railing. With another word, Baylee commanded the rope to knot itself.

Once the knots were in place, the sixty-foot rope shortened to fifty feet, but it was long enough to reach him. He gripped it tightly, then swarmed up the rope. Perspiration soaked the gnomish leathers, and his muscles ached as he pulled.

The unnatural grace Krystarn Fellhammer exhibited unnerved him somewhat. He hadn’t gone over ten feet before the rope beneath him quivered, letting him know someone else had grabbed it. He reached for one of the small throwing knives hidden in the gnomish leather workman’s armor, ready to sacrifice the rope if he had to.

“It’s me,” Cordyan yelled up.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping. Or do you think you’re going to be able to take that drow on all by yourself?”

Shut up and save your breath for climbing, Xuxa ordered.

Baylee turned his attention back overhead. Krystarn Fellhammer had reached the uppermost railing, twenty feet above him. He pulled harder as he watched the drow disappear from view further back on the ledge.

A sudden explosion of fire and light came from below. A heartbeat later, a wave of concussive force slammed against him, bruising his chest against the railing in front of him. He held his position, looking back over his shoulder.

Scoontiphp remained by the whirling maelstrom in the center of the room. His clothing shifted, torn by the winds. The lightning dancing from the palms of his hands. Calebaan stood nearby, defending the baelnorn from any hobgoblins who crept around the net of steel Cthulad and the Waterdhavian watch had put up.

The sphere of whirling winds detonated again, scattering sparks from the baelnorn’s lightning. The gems seemed to slow, and the residual tremors that had been part of the underground since the earlier earthquakes appeared to fade.

Then a shadow sailed out into the room. With the continual light spell Scoontiphp had in effect overhead, Baylee guessed that the new arrival had to be Folgrim Shallowsoul, the lich who kept the library.

Shallowsoul stood in the middle of a carpet that flew effortlessly through the air. The carpet hovered only a few feet from the sphere and stopped.

Baylee yelled down a warning, wondering if the baelnorn knew the lich was there. Then it became a moot point because the lich gestured toward Scoontiphp. An invisible wall of force slammed into the baelnorn, knocking him from his feet and into a set of bookshelves behind him. The force was so great that the baelnorn didn’t stop there, knocking down two other sets of shelves behind him.

“Climb!” Cordyan yelled up.

Baylee reached up and grabbed his next handhold. More blasts of light and bursts of incredible noise rose from below. He gained the top and swung a leg over. Only his finely tuned senses warned him of the morning star streaking for his head.

He ducked and rolled to one side as the weapon smashed splinters from the stairway railing. He came up standing, but had to shift again as Krystarn Fellhammer fired her hand crossbow at him. The shaft ripped through the sleeve of his left arm, and he felt an immediate numbness that told him at least part of the poison had entered his system. He fought against it, barely able to keep his mind clear.

“You made a mistake in coming here, human,” the drow hissed.

“I don’t think so,” said the ranger, shaking the double images of the drow from his sight.

“Why?” she taunted. “I killed your old mentor, trapped him like a rat in his own home, then snapped his neck like a rat. What makes you think I’ll have any trouble with his whelp?”

Baylee focused on her words, backing away as she came at him. Thick support columns ran down from the ceiling overhead. They provided cover from her spellwork. Another crossbow quarrel chipped away stone only inches from his face.

Rooms opened up off of the runway the stairs led up on. Baylee glanced through them hurriedly, hoping to see some sign of the emerald drum Scoontiphp had spoken of.

Get ready, Baylee, Xuxa said, I am on my way.

No! Baylee responded. She’s too quick, too dangerous.

And you’re wounded.

Frantically, Baylee searched the open area above the room below. Even with all the pyrotechnics coming from the battle raging below, he couldn’t spot the azmyth bat. But with his blurring vision, he didn’t know if it would have been possible anyway.

Xuxa swept in like an arrow, her wings wrapped tight against her body. She hit the drow sorceress from the side, not hesitating. Her claws dragged across Krystarn Fellhammer’s cheek, ripping the flesh open and sizzling electricity at the same time.

Stay ready, Xuxa cried as the drow spun in her direction.

Baylee tried to remain steady, but the poison in his system counteracted his reflexes. He staggered slightly but managed to keep the long sword up in front of him.

Before the drow could attack Xuxa, she twisted in pain, turning back to the rope Baylee had just quit. As she turned, the ranger saw the trio of darts sticking out of her back, driven deep between the links of her mail shirt.

Krystarn Fellhammer lifted a hand and began a series of intricate manipulations with her fingers as Cordyan pulled herself over the railing twenty feet and more back.

Baylee ripped a throwing knife free of the gnomish workman’s armor and flung it at the drow. It sank deeply between her shoulder blades. He felt less than honorable attacking her from behind, but he couldn’t stand by and let Cordyan be killed.

Move to the attack, Baylee, Xuxa said. For the moment, you are soundless. The drow can’t hear you. The azmyth bat had the ability to magically create silence in the area near her once a day. He moved swiftly behind the drow, getting a good grip on the long sword.

As the drow turned back around, he took her head off cleanly with the long sword. Blood sprayed an arc of bright color against the wall behind her as her headless body dropped to its knees and toppled forward.

Exhausted by his efforts, Baylee slumped to the floor when the latest earthquake hit. He tried to remain on his feet, tried to maintain his hold on the long sword, but the poison surged through his system unchecked.

“Baylee,” Cordyan said, approaching him with her sword before her.

He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

He was poisoned, Xuxa said. She fluttered to the wall in front of Baylee, gazing at him worriedly.

Cordyan rummaged in the pouch at her side, coming out with a vial. She unstoppered it, then poured the contents into Baylee’s mouth. He felt a warm lassitude spread through him, the sharp ache of the poison suddenly dulled. His limbs still felt heavy, but his breathing already felt less labored.

The watch lieutenant gave him another sip of the heal potion. “Drink it down.”

Baylee’s mind cleared, followed shortly by his vision. He forced himself to his feet with Cordyan’s help. “The phylactery?” he asked.

The light from downstairs started to fade gradually. Another quake rocked the great library, letting him know who was gaining the upper hand in the battle of spells going on below.

“I don’t know,” the civilar answered.

I found it, Xuxa announced.

Where? Baylee stared through the gloom and found the azmyth bat as she released the wall she’d clung to.

Xuxa flapped her wings and headed into the room to Baylee’s left.

The ranger stumbled in pursuit, his reflexes starting to feel more normal. The room he entered was filled as was all the others, with volumes and volumes of books. A tall desk occupied one end of the room. A carved stone chair with a high back sat behind it.

No one was in the room.

All of the walls held items scattered amid the books. Skulls, some from real creatures and others carved from precious metals, glinted in the lantern light. Dozens of crystal balls occupied unique mounts, including the skeletal hands of men and creatures. Vases numbered the most among the items scattered along the shelves.

Where? Baylee played the lantern light over the shelves. A flicker of green caught his attention on the left.

Xuxa winged to the shelves in the center of the lantern’s beam and hung upside down over a statue that must have been three feet tall. Here.

Baylee moved forward, targeting the statue of a woman with two faces, the second one occupying the space where the back of her skull should have been. She was naked, revealing twisted and broken limbs clothed in loose flesh. She held the emerald drum above her head. Her features, both sets of them, held only horror.

He moved closer, hypnotized by the beauty of the emerald drum. He didn’t know how much it would be worth to a jeweler or a collector, but the burnished surface captured the light from his lantern like a fire had started deep within the emerald. He reached for the drum.

Before his hand touched the drum, a strident voice rang out behind him.

“Stay away from that!”

Baylee turned, bringing the long sword up.

Folgrim Shallowsoul floated through the door on the flying carpet. His clothing still held sparks that burned bright orange. He gestured toward the ranger.

A wall of incredible force slammed into Baylee. He flew backward, flailing to regain his balance. He rolled across the broad floor but came up on his feet.

“You’re in league with that foul baelnorn,” Shallowsoul said as he drifted into place behind the stone desk. The carpet landed gently beside the desk. “But you’re too late to stop me from shifting this library to the astral plane where you and your kind will never find it.”

Cordyan rushed for the phylactery. Before she reached it, a gust of wind blew her aside.

Baylee slipped a throwing knife from the gnomish leather. He flung it from the side, trying to mask the movement till the last possible moment. The knife flew like a dart.

The lich raised his hand and caught the knife in his skeletal fingers. He walked behind the desk without concern. “The baelnorn has killed you all,” he declared as he took the seat behind the desk. Tossing the knife away, he waved his hand over the desktop. “I’ve kept this library safe for hundreds of years. How can you think I’d shirk my duties now?”

Without preamble, an earthquake tremor shivered through the room. Baylee braced himself, amazed at how the books didn’t fall from the shelves.

A cloud of smoke erupted from the top of the desk, taking the shape of a huge, naked humanoid. The smoke kept coiling and climbing. In less than a moment, the desk was gone, reshaped into a stone golem that stepped ponderously toward Baylee.

The golem stood nine and a half feet tall and was as broad as any two men. The stone flesh marbled, turning white under the ranger’s lantern light. It opened its mouth in a soundless scream.

“In moments, this library will shift to the astral plane,” the lich said. “There’s nothing you can do to stop it. And once we get there, you won’t escape this labyrinth alive!”

Moving much faster than the stone golem, Baylee swung his long sword at the creature’s arm, hoping to sever the limb or at least render it useless. Instead, the sword shattered against the stone skin, falling in gleaming shards. It swung its hand at the ranger.

Baylee barely managed to duck under the blow. The huge hand slammed into the nearby bookshelves, toppling them over.

“No!” Shallowsoul screamed, sitting upright in his chair. “Don’t hurt the books!”

The golem hesitated for just a moment, giving Baylee time to discard the useless sword hilt. He unfastened the straps holding the battle-axe he’d taken from the hobgoblin, bringing it around swiftly in his hands. The ranger gave ground, using the time to his advantage. He ran for the emerald drum.

Xuxa, Baylee called.

I am here, the azmyth bat replied. I know the lich controls the golem. When I have a proper opening, I shall try to distract him.

Be careful. Baylee placed a hand on the emerald drum in the twisted statue’s hands. A tingling sensation, like that he received from the haft of the battle-axe, ran through his palm. The magic in the emerald drum was a physical presence.

“Destroy him!” Shallowsoul ordered.

The golem lumbered to do the lich’s bidding.

Another tremor ripped through the library. Baylee barely maintained his balance. He tried to pry the emerald drum from the statue’s hands, but failed. Grabbing the battle-axe up, he brought it smashing down hard against the emerald drum. Bright green sparks jumped from the keen edge, but there was not even a crack to mark the blow he’d struck.

“You’re going to need more magic than that pathetic axe has to destroy my phylactery,” the lich said.

Switching his grip on the battle-axe, Baylee smashed the heavy warblade into the statue’s upraised hands. The wrists shattered, but the stone hands still clung to the emerald drum. However, it was enough. Baylee grinned, knowing his success was only seconds away from being taken from him as the stone golem bore down on him.

He reached down and seized one of the broken stone hands holding onto the drum. The phylactery was heavier than it looked, but he managed it easily enough.

Baylee Arnvold. The ranger recognized the baelnorn’s voice in his head, sounding weak and agonized. Bring the phylactery to me. I am downstairs with the astral shift spell. I can help.