Got to kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight

	--- “Lovers in a Dangerous Time”, Bruce Cockburn

“Ahhhh! My knight miniature has escaped and returned with more souls to feed upon. Welcome, all,” said the Shade Lord.

The great Shadow resembled a transparent black glass statue of some vaguely humanoid nightmare race, yet it was not his appearance that bothered Patricia most. No, it was the low, fruity chuckle that truly doomed the Shade Lord. Something about it triggered a whole host of unpleasant memories in Patricia’s mind, and instead of frightening her, the sound loosed a cold and calculating fury. In the depths of her heart The Thing stirred, intently watching as the encounter unfolded.

Another, shorter Shadow stepped out from a puddle of darkness near the cracked old stone altar of Amuanator. “Sssssthhh... Mazzy... you left us here... no matter... join the delightful darknesss.…”

Mazzy blanched, but rallied. “Patrick... no, not Patrick, only his twisted spirit. My poor friends, what has he done to you?”

“He’s given us back... our existence... sssthhh... We’re all here, Mazzy. Join us... embrace the master,” the pathetic remnant of the halfling’s lover wheedled.

The Shade Lord laughed again, and Patricia felt her hands moving into strike position of their own volition. She forced herself to relax. She had a promise to keep.

“Excellent, my servant! Ha! Our Lady Knight shall embrace the darkness and give the gift of flesh, that I might keep my hold on this mortal plane,” the master of the Shadows proclaimed.

“Twisted fiend!” Mazzy spat, “Only death will stop me from avenging those noble souls that you have stolen!”

A ripple of irritation crossed what passed for the Shade Lord’s face. “Gently, lady knight. You were to be my consort,” he admonished sternly.

Nalia gave a shocked gasp; out of the corner of her eye, the monk saw Jan reach over and pat the girl’s arm, even as he darted a glance of pure hate at the Shade Lord.

The halfling’s lips curled, and her voice rose. “I would never join with you! Every fiber in my being would resist.”

Patricia heard a muttered, “Aye,” from Anomen and a rumble of assent from Minsc. She managed to keep herself immobile, refusing to betray her rising bile.

“Hah, hah! So noble,” the Shadow sneered. He gestured to the pitted and desecrated stone next to him, which was cloaked in a darkness thick as black velvet. “A night on this altar would have made you a worthy consort. Don’t look so harshly upon me. You would be a most evil Shade. The Laws of Chaos subvert. The noblest souls in life make for deliciously evil undead,” he said with a suggestive leer. “For a willing participant, the experience could even be enjoyable. Certainly less painful than my alternative method of administration. Come now, little woman, what say you?”

Mazzy squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Patricia saw the halfling’s expression stiffen as her voice came low and level. “You will be fully dead when I am through with you.”

The Shade Lord appeared to arch an eyebrow. “Is this is how you will have it? Regrettable.” He clicked his tongue. “We’d have ruled these weak fools together, my diminutive lass. Come, my shades, make short work of them! They shall join our army, if not our family.”

Patricia shot forward as if released from a cannon. She had only one objective: the short, gibbering shape that was all that remained of Patrick. The monk had promised Mazzy that she would be the one to remove him, sparing the halfling the unhappy task without explaining all to the others. Mazzy had sworn to take her own vengeance on the Shade Lord himself.

Mazzy had said that none of her party had ever encountered a monk in battle before, and Patricia was counting on the effect of initial surprise to help carry her through the first rounds of the fight. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the flash of Nalia’s arrow as it arced towards the Shade Lord. Her left hand darted out, fingers extended tight and level, and sank into the strange pseudo-substance that made up the Shadow’s body. She felt Patrick quiver like a jelly as the focused and channeled chi coursed throughout his form, temporarily stunning him.

Anomen’s voice filled her ears as he called down the wrath of Helm against this evil creature and his minions for their desecration of a holy place, counterpointed by Jan’s recitation of the incantation that would call up blazing fist-sized meteors. Minsc’s bass undercut them both as he bellowed war cries; by prior agreement the Rashemite was to guard both the cleric and mages from attack until Anomen had finished his prayer. Patricia was fairly sure the ranger could stick to the task for two or three minutes without yielding to the berserker rage.

The monk’s right knee had been planted in the Shadow’s lower torso even as her left hand drew back, and Patrick shuddered again. Patricia was relieved; she hadn’t been entirely sure that the stunning blow would work against this partly extraplanar creature, but it was obvious he couldn’t even defend himself. Her right hand chopped at the side of his neck, and the Shadow dissipated, streamers of darkness flowing away towards the desecrated altar.

As she watched, the air above the altar took on a foggy grey glow, sucking in the scraps of pseudoflesh. Within seconds, the altar pulsed, and another Shadow appeared full-blown behind it, already making for the battle. Patricia realized that the stone somehow served to focus the Shade Lord’s power. Perhaps it connected him to the plane of Shadow; it didn’t matter how it worked, it was imperative to destroy it. But a solid mass of rock? She knew she was nowhere near powerful enough yet to damage it with her hands, nor would the Blade of Roses be able to accomplish much. Ashideena! That was it! She heard the Watcher chanting the last few lines of the prayer.

“Anomen!” she cried. “The altar! You’ve got to destroy it!”

He nodded grimly and started toward it. She found herself facing the new Shadow, and drew her sword. Patrick’s second demise had been a personal promise, and she’d tried to make it as painless as possible; a consideration no longer necessary. She risked a glance at Mazzy. The halfling was clearly hurt, but showed no signs of slowing. Jan’s meteors were stinging the Shade Lord enough to keep the creature from making use of Mazzy’s injuries, and Patricia now heard Nalia’s voice pattering out a spell of her own. Minsc was doggedly sticking to his job of protecting Jan and Nalia, holding two more Shadows at bay.

Patricia parried the new Shadow’s first blow easily, but was grazed by the second. It was her good fortune the contact wasn’t long enough to sap her strength. She backpedaled for a moment, hoping this had been a fairly stupid and inexperienced fighter in life who would follow her into a trap. No such luck; the Shadow paused and went into a defensive crouch that was typical of most knife-fighters. It’d probably been a daggerman, then; this Shadow would be looking for a way to get her in the back, or else close inside the effective range of her blade. She pursed her lips. Well, there was one way to get him to move….

Anomen’s prayer was answered in a blazing hail from the sky. Chunks of burning stone rained down on the Shadows and the altar, but not one touched a hair on the head of any of the Watcher’s companions. The Shadow she faced rocked with the impact, hissing in pain as the missile scorched it. Patricia turned to see what effect the Holy Smite of Helm had had upon the desecrated altar. The whole stone had cracked right across, and the grey glow had disappeared. She spun back, and made a calculated thrust forward, like a fencer. She sighed with relief as she impaled the Shadow. Yes, almost certainly a former thief. She recognized that particular type of backstab as one Imoen favored. Turning her back on it had been the right move.

She heard a grinding noise, and risked another glance backward. The level top of the altar was crumbling and pitted, no longer usable, and even she could feel the Shade Lord’s power dwindling. The darkness overhead was lessening, for one thing. The last few Shadows were drawing back to their master, though she could not tell whether by choice or by his command. The Shade Lord was on his knees now; Minsc had joined Mazzy, and their combined blows had done even greater damage than Anomen’s spell. With the altar gone, the Shade Lord could no longer draw directly upon the power of Shadow. As Patricia watched, Mazzy clasped the hilt of her sword with both hands, and drove the full length of the blade into the Shade Lord’s chest, driving him backward until she pinned him to the earth.

There was a long, keening wail, and then the darkness overhead swirled inwards, like inky water washing down a drain located at a point above the Shade Lord’s head. Patricia blinked. It was dawn, and the first rays of the sun were peeking through low clouds on the eastern horizon, chasing the late moon out of the sky. It was eerily silent. No birds sang to greet the new day, no squirrels rustled the branches; they had all been driven off by the Shadows and the darkness.

The monk heard a raspy voice from the ground beyond Mazzy. “Unghhh… please turn me to the light,” it begged. Patricia and the others all moved closer, but it was Minsc who bent down and gently raised the figure of a slight half-elven woman in his arms.

“Thank you,” the leather-clad woman whispered. “I thank Mielikki that you rescued me from an eternity of undeath, that I can see the blessed light once more before I go.” She smiled weakly. “I can hear the Pretty One whisper in my ear, Brother-of-the-Woods. I am Merella. She gives my place to you, Minsc. Guard this land.” The woman turned her head to the east. “I always loved the dawn,” she murmured, and heaved a great, rattling sigh, eyes fixed on the rising sun.

Nalia gasped. “Anomen, can’t you do something?” she cried. “Raise her or something?”

The Watcher opened his mouth, but a deep voice cut him off. “No.”

They all looked at Minsc, who still cradled Merella’s empty shell in his arms. Patricia saw a depth of understanding in his eyes that had been missing the entire time she’d known him.

“No,” he repeated. “Those taken by the power of Shadow are gone forever. After we freed it, Mielikki’s favor held Merella’s soul here long enough to pass on her responsibility, but there was no hope of saving her.” He straightened his shoulders. “I have much to learn, but I like it here, and Mielikki has spoken. My mind is clear as it has not been since I met Boo; the price for my restoration is remaining in Imnesvale.” He looked down at the lifeless form he held, then bent to place it gently on the ground. “She must be buried properly.”

“Aye,” said Anomen, in a voice that cracked. “Let me help you dig the grave, Minsc. We shall place the lady in a pretty spot.” The two men looked at each other, and when Minsc nodded abruptly Patricia knew that something deeper was going on that she did not comprehend.

“Mazzy, Nalia, and I will prepare her for burial while you two and Jan select a site,” the monk said.

The ranger nodded again, and the three men moved off. Even Jan didn’t protest.

Nalia looked grim. “I didn’t even have to do this for my father,” she commented. “How do we start?”

Mazzy gave her a sharp look. “Have to? I would give anything to be able to do this for Patrick!” she cried, pounding her fist on the ground. “I can’t even take his body home to his family!” The halfling gave way to rough sobs.

Patricia laid a hand on the woman’s shoulder. She would have liked to let Mazzy cry it out, but this still wasn’t the time to give way to grief. She tried to appeal to her pride. “But you achieved your goal, Mazzy. You have your revenge.”

The woman sniffled. “It is done, yes, though the vengeance is empty. Patrick and my companions had to serve in death as slaves to the Shade Lord,” Mazzy said in a hollow voice.

“They died with honor, regardless of what the Shade Lord did to them afterwards,” Patricia pointed out, “and you did what you could. Their spirits are no longer under his domination.”

Mazzy sighed, but her shoulders straightened a trifle. “A truly evil fate. I would that I could honor their restless souls. Perhaps it would bring them some measure of peace, or at least myself. They were good people who fought always for justice.”

Patricia thought for a moment. There had to be some way to mark this spot as the final resting place of Mazzy’s friends, not to mention Merella, Anath, and the rest of the Shade Lord’s victims. She scanned the scene before her. They were standing on a raised stone platform that must once have held hundreds of Amaunator’s worshippers. He’d been a solar deity, and the crumbling texts they’d found underground in the ruined temple indicated that dawn and dusk were important daily events. Her eye came to rest on the battered granite block in the center of the space. “Mazzy,” she said, “the god that this altar stood for is also dead, or nearly so. Wouldn’t it make a fine memorial to your fallen comrades?”

“We could make an inscription,” Nalia chimed in, “with their names, and Merella’s and Anath’s. I’ve got some spells I’ve been itching to use for ages that will really do it up brown, just as nice as anything you could get in a city.”

Mazzy considered the idea, her troubled expression gradually smoothing. “Yes, I think that would be most suitable. This altar was once a place of light, so shall it be again. Let us make this a memorial for these fine and noble friends. But first, we must take care of poor Merella. Hand me your canteen, Nalia. Have we got any rags to wash her down with? I feel as if we should try to wipe off the pollution of the Shade Lord’s touch.”

Together the three women cared for the dead ranger’s corpse. They removed and cleaned Merella’s leather armor and boots, but the clothes underneath had been ripped and mended so many times they looked like patchwork. Then they washed the body, and Patricia donated her spare pair of pants and a tunic, which were a little big on the half-elf but the best they could do. Then they put Merella’s armor back on. They combed and rearranged her hair, using a few of Nalia’s clips and Patricia’s pins to pull it away from her face. Mazzy unexpectedly produced a small pot of lip paint and tinted the woman’s mouth to hide the bluish pallor. Nalia found a few wildflowers growing nearby, and picked a small bouquet to place in the woman’s clasped hands.

The women were examining their handiwork critically when Minsc and the others returned. The ranger and Anomen removed their helms as they approached the makeshift stretcher bier Patricia had fashioned from a blanket and a couple of fallen branches. The men listened intently as Nalia explained about the planned memorial, and nodded their approval. Then Anomen and Minsc lifted the poles to their shoulders and solemnly carried their burden off to the edge of the forest. Minsc had selected a spot in the shade of a young oak, and the men had been careful not to disturb any large roots. The grave was just deep enough to discourage predators. A layer of cedar branches had already been placed across the bottom, and after the ranger and Watcher deposited the stretcher and Patricia and Mazzy draped another blanket over Merella’s form, Jan and Nalia put more cedar brush across the top.

The others stood in silence while Anomen blessed the grave. Afterwards, the others left to help prepare the altar for the inscription while Minsc laboriously filled in the hole, a task the ranger had insisted on performing himself.

It was almost noon when he returned, sweaty and covered in earth. Anomen had sprinkled holy water over the altar to erase the desecration of the Shade Lord’s presence. Patricia had chalked in the outline of the inscription, and Jan had used a spell to turn the marked areas into a fleshy substance that they could excavate with the points of knives and daggers. As Minsc joined the others some distance away, Nalia and Jan placed their final enchantments on the stone, then beckoned the others to join them.

As they approached within ten feet, a mouth suddenly appeared above the inscription and spoke the words of the text. Startled, Mazzy moved back a few feet, then approached again. The mouth reappeared, repeating its message. Visibly moved, she thanked the two mages, then pressed her hands against the stone.

Head bowed, she murmured, “My lost companions, my boon friends. May your souls rest in peace. I shall always carry your courage and your honor with me. I shall strike down evil in your name! Know, noble heroes, that you are not forgotten. May this altar always stand as a monument to your unselfish courage. Farewell!”

Anomen had been standing with his arm wrapped around Patricia’s shoulder, but now she felt him move. “Milady Mazzy, it cannot be seen now, but Jan helped me work out how to set a permanent light spell on the altar that will be triggered at nightfall. No one need ever fear the darkness in this spot again.” He turned to Minsc. “Even Merella will be able to see it at night, over at the edge of the meadow.”

The ranger gave a sharp nod. “It is a good way to honor them.” He walked out of the circle and hoisted his pack to his back. “Come, let’s go back to Imnesvale. I must send for Boo, if he has not come looking for us already. The Shadow Dragon may be trapped within the temple for now, but it must be dealt with before it escapes.”

Mazzy was right behind him. “You and I must see Minister Lloyd together,” she said to the ranger. “He hired me first.” She turned back to the others. “Well, aren’t the rest of you slowpokes coming?” she called impatiently.

Patricia and Anomen looked at each other and smiled. The new Minsc was certainly interesting, the monk thought as she made her way to her own pack. It was nice not to always have to be the one with ideas….