All That Glitters...36

Chapter Thirty-Six


The next morning dawned with success on Yoshimo's part. Taras' tower stood in the city's Gem District, a heavily mercantile district of Athkatla, and a talkative merchant who kept him well supplied with Saerloonian firewine let his name slip after a few rounds of ale at a dockside tavern. From there it hadn't been hard to get directions.

The party had arrived at the tower prepared for a long fight. Wizards, especially ones who could afford towers, were no easy marks. Plus, they'd have to fight their way up a trap- and creature-filled tower while they were at it.

One look, however, dispelled those expectations. Taras' door lay blasted open, scorch marks all over the doorframe, the heavy iron door itself hanging by a hinge off to one side. Protective spells were cast anyway, and Kal still half-expected a magical trap to fire off as soon as he passed through the door, but there was nothing.

No traps, that was to say. The first floor was covered in shattered furniture, half-burned and splintered. The corpses of summoned creatures lay everywhere, and dried blood - all black now, though it had probably been several different colours before - crusted the ground. Black marks attested to the passage of fire and lightning, spotting the walls and floor in a chaotic mosaic.

"Quite a battle was fought here," Jaheira observed.

"And it looks like Taras lost," Kal said.

They hurried up the stairs, and the second floor was no better than the first. The second floor had held bookshelves and comfortable chairs, a receiving room for honoured guests, but was just as much a blasted ruin as the first floor. Shards of expensive serving ware littered the ground. Blood which hadn't yet fully dried soaked the expensive carpet to a uniform rust-red colour, and the stench of burned flesh hung in the air. The charred ruins of the bookshelves attested to the fire's scope, and the half-melted stones of the tower walls attested to its intensity.

"Quite a battle, indeed," Yoshimo murmured.

They found Taras on the top floor. What was left of him, anyway. Below his midriff, Taras' body was a frayed mass of tangled, bloody flesh, mixed with the blasted remains of his garments. He lay still and silent in the middle of his room, the most damaged of all of them. There was no recognizable furniture remaining in the room, and the walls were half-slagged down. Torch rings had melted into rust-red rivulets, trailing down the sides of the walls like streams of blood.

Everyone jumped when he drew a ragged breath.

His eyes flickered open, and he caught sight of Haer'Dalis. Taras coughed. "Ah, yes...the tiefling bard," he rasped.

Haer'Dalis knelt down beside him. "I came to kill you with my own hand," he said bluntly.

The mangled wizard raised an eyebrow weakly. "I can...hardly stop you. But...I would have your forgiveness, first, if you would....and I would warn you, as well...."

"What was this all for?" Haer'Dalis asked softly.

"They...they wanted my daughter. Took...her." Taras shook his head. "I am...sorry, sir tiefling. I am sorry that...I summoned you, and...and made you fight for me. I am sorry that...so many others died...for my daughter's sake. I am sorry...but I do not regret it. I...would do it again...without hesitation." Taras coughed, a wet-sounding cough, but there was little blood left in his body to cough out.

"But what you did was wrong!" Aerie burst out.

"Wrong and right...weren't part of it," Taras gasped. "I was a father...defending his family...there is no wrong or right...only what must be done. My only regret is...that it caused you...injury."

Haer'Dalis nodded seriously. "Aye. No man in all the Planes possessed of sound mind could fault you. Consider yourself...forgiven."

The dying man managed a weak nod. "Thank...you. And I must warn you...Athkatla is not...safe. They will find it...sooner or later. Leave the city!" A long, heaving cough. "As my apology to you...heed this warning...and save yourselves."

"Who is they? And what are they looking for?" Kal asked quickly. Taras didn't have long to live.

"I know not...who they are. They possess power enough...to deal with the likes of you...and when they find it they will not be stopped...not by all of the Cowled Wizards and knights in all of Amn...not by anyone...."

"But what are they looking for?" Jaheira demanded.

"Power, of course...what other goal do men have? Power...beyond dreams of power." Taras' eyes were glazing over as death fought to take him, but he stubbornly resisted for as long as he could. "They...told me this, as I lay here. One night..." he began, and gasped, the rattle of death growing ever louder. "One night...a radiant star rose toward the sky. A hand struck it... and it tumbled back down...a rain of sparkling jewels. They seek...the missing..."

His voice broke off, and Taras' last breath hissed out of his ruined body. The wizard's expression slackened, and his head rolled back on to the floor. Haer'Dalis respectfully closed Taras' eyes. Then, he rose to his feet, holding the crumpled shell of what had been a mighty wizard in his arms. "Come. We should find some place to lay him to rest."

"You were seeking his death ten minutes ago," Viconia commented.

"Yes," Haer'Dalis said in an untroubled tone. "And he is dead."

"So...so you're just going to...bury him?" Aerie asked.

"Yes," Haer'Dalis said, again. "I forgave him. ‘Tis something that many say is a good quality of Doomguard - we forgive easily. What does it matter, in the End? And in his position...I cannot say that I would do anything less. Now...let us find a place somewhere...preferably in a forest."

"Only so that the trees can use the nutrients of his body, of course," Jaheira said.

Haer'Dalis inclined his head. "If that is what you wish to believe." And with that, he started down the stairs.

---

They buried Taras outside Athkatla, in a small forest grove. No one said a word until they were well on their way back to the city. Kal was thinking, deeply, on the subject of Taras' enigmatic riddle.

"I cannot think of anything, either," Haer'Dalis said.

"Huh? Was I...?" Kal said.

Haer'Dalis smiled. "I knew of what you were thinking. The riddle makes no sense to me, though it may be my unfamiliarity with your Prime world that is the cause."

"I am surprised," Jaheira said. "You do not appear to be heeding his warning and leaving the city."

Haer'Dalis shrugged. "We cannot. After all, the path to rescuing Kalvorin's sister lies in this city, does it not?"

"Do you really care about that?" Jaheira asked.

"Why, such are how epic tales are begun. I shall not absent myself from it. And if the city should fall? When it is time for me, then it is time. I do not presume to tell Entropy how to go about its work."

"Hmph." Jaheira turned away.

Kal eventually decided that dropping everything and trying to solve Taras' puzzle was pointless, and it distracted them from other things that needed doing. Such as delivering the illithium to Jerlia, which they proceeded to do.

Jerlia wasn't happy. That wasn't to say that she was unhappy, but she found dealing with the thousand pounds of illithium that had suddenly been delivered rather overwhelming. "Well," she murmured, half to herself, "my cut was fifty. I think Galorg was intending to take four hundred fifty down to Calimport, and the remaining five of my colleagues were to take a hundred each. So there's five hundred pounds unclaimed, if you want it. I can arrange for the remaining four-fifty to get down to Calimport and into the right hands, so don't worry about that."

"Right. I think what's important is making sure that the families of your five colleagues are looked after," Kal said.

Jerlia nodded. "Well...three of them didn't have any family to speak of, but these two did," she said, pointing out two names on the list she had originally given the party.

"We need money to save Imoen, if you recall," Jaheira warned.

"I wasn't intending to use our money. I was just going to let the Helmite church know how it was that they ended up with enough illithium for Sarles. It's not quite my responsibility, but it certainly can be one that they can assume."

"But what are we going to do with five hundred pounds of this?" Aerie asked. "Sarles only wants two hundred."

"I'm sure Cromwell knows about something that can be done with it," Cel told her confidently. "Illithium is quasi-magic material, and better than even mithral in certain forms of construction."

The delivery of the illithium to the temple went off smoothly, and High Watcher Oisig promised to look after the families that Kal directed him to.

"One other thing," the High Watcher said. "Since you're here, I might as well inform you that the Order has finally assigned someone to the investigation of the cult of the Unseeing Eye. Is there a problem with you beginning tomorrow?"

"Not at all. We've more or less wrapped up everything we've needed to."

"Good. I'll see you here tomorrow, then."

"Certainly."

The party dropped off the remaining three hundred pounds of illithium at Cromwell's before they returned to the Flagons. Cromwell was quite surprised. "Illithium? Now this, this is rare. I get enough of everything else, but this is not something one sees every day."

"Anything you can do with it?" Cel asked.

"Well...not with what you've got currently. Check back here a few times, after you've recovered a few more things. Then we'll see."

Afterward, it was decided by mutual consent that the party should rest up for the day ahead. Haer'Dalis and Aerie headed for the playhouse again, dragging Minsc along once more. Kal dropped off Cel in his room and headed for the roof with Viconia to talk. This left Yoshimo and Jaheira.

They sat in silence for some time. Eventually, Jaheira asked, "Are you not going out to search once again? I had thought that the seedy establishments of drink were your natural habitat."

Yoshimo grinned. "What is there to search for? There is a clear and obvious goal before us, yes? And in my humble experience, eyeless people do not tend to frequent such establishments - and so I have no one to question."

Jaheira considered the words for a few moments, and, at length, shrugged. "Fair enough. What is it, then, that you do when you are not interrogating drunks?"

"Such bluntness of language," Yoshimo said in a faintly wounded tone. Then he grinned again. "I prefer to refer to my activities as the absorption of information from those too inebriated to have the sense to retain it. It carries a much more...pleasing tenor."

"Whatever you choose to call it," Jaheira said, shaking her head. "I am not one for pleasantries or flowery language. If interrogating drunks is what you do, that is what I will call it. I have no use for anything other than the blunt truth."

"So I have noticed. I mean not to pry, but is this the result of...recent events? It is truly a tragic fate for one to lose the appreciation of language. By this I speak not of my attempts at this language, which is in fact my third tongue, but anyone's. I have read some poetry since coming to this land, and some of it, I have found, can be quite enjoyable."

"You need not tiptoe around me so deftly, Yoshimo. No, Khalid's death has nothing to do with it," Jaheira said, finding she had to force the words out despite her statement. "I have always found all the beauty I need in nature, and never in any constructs of civilization."

Yoshimo nodded slowly. "Of which language is one. I see."

Jaheira seemed content to let the conversation die, but something struck her suddenly and she turned her gaze on Yoshimo again. "You speak sometimes of how you have come only recently to this part of the world. Was your profession the same in your homeland? I find tales of the lands of Kara-Tur lacking in descriptions of dockside taverns."

Yoshimo's eyes grew distant. "My profession was much different in my homeland. Much different, and...more enjoyable. I did not leave it willingly."

"I am sorry if I have ventured into forbidden ground," Jaheira said, noticing the expression on his face.

"No apology necessary, though I do not wish to discuss it. Everyone has...sensitive issues."

"I...suppose I agree."

---

One of those sensitive issues was, at that moment, being discussed on the rooftop.

"I...have considered your words carefully, Kal," Viconia said. "I...it is true that I have not been...not been particularly willing to understand. But it is true that...that Valas did see something of value other than power and...and I wish to learn of what it might have been." She sighed. "If only I had thought more about it while he was still...himself. While I still had that...relationship, to...to study. Or, at least...learn from."

"What was your relationship with Valas like?"

"When we were children..." she shrugged. "We talked. About many things. We would sneak around the house, tell each other stories."

"Did you...gain power by doing so?"

She rolled her eyes. "Do not be ridiculous."

"So weren't all those stories...useless?"

Viconia squirmed. "Well...yes, technically, I suppose."

"‘Technically'...well, there's an interesting qualifier."

"I know what you are trying to have me say," Viconia snapped. "Yes, they were ‘useless'...but I treasured them. Yes, and valued them. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I think it's what you needed to hear," Kal replied. "You wanted to know what else there is in a relationship besides power...I think you know already. Friendship. Trust. Did you trust Valas?"

"Trust is for the foolish," she replied automatically.

"And that doesn't answer my question," Kal replied. "Did you trust him?"

"Yes..." she admitted grudgingly.

"Obviously, that was foolish...because he used that trust to betray you, right?"

"You are not humorous," Viconia said sourly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I meant, he was going to betray you." Kal assumed a thoughtful pose. "Oh, but he sort of sacrificed himself to save your life first, didn't he?"

Viconia ground her teeth together. "Get to the point," she spat.

"Why don't you? Tell me why that trust was foolish. Oh, I grant you, some trust can be and will be foolish. But you're the one issuing the blanket statement - it's up to you."

"That is not important."

"I disagree. You brought up ‘trust is for the foolish'. So tell me why."

"It is because..." Viconia frowned. "Wait a moment."

"And if you're going to say that trust entails betrayal, well, that's only partially true. Yes, trusting allows one to be betrayed - but not everyone will betray their trust."

"In the Underdark...," Viconia began rebelliously.

"Where did you grow up with Valas? Some other Underdark?" Kal interrupted.

"Very...very well. I...I suppose there might be...exceptions. That it may occasionally be...harmless."

"Harmless, certainly. And something more, I should think. After all, there wasn't any reason for you to trust him, was there? Wasn't there something more to it? Or could you have stopped at any moment, without feeling anything?"

Viconia shifted uncomfortably again. "Well...no. There...there was value, there. I...it was a comfort, to be able to share stories with him, to...to trust him."

"So there you are. You didn't need him, and you don't need me, to tell you what value there is besides power. You already know. You just don't know the word for it. Tell me, what's the drow definition of trust?"

"The...condition which allows for betrayal," Viconia said.

"Not surprising. Well, let me teach you a different definition. Trust means having a friend you can talk to. Someone who can share your pains and sorrows, to make the burden of loss a little lighter. It's also having someone to share your successes, joys, and happiness with. It's a cold, dark, lonely world without trust. The drow think they like the darkness - but they've never seen what the light can do."

"Poetic but substanceless," Viconia sneered, though her expression was confused.

Kal shrugged. "Frilly, perhaps, but I know you're thinking about it."

"Perhaps," she allowed.

And that's as far as we're going today. Viconia likewise sensed that the conversation was at an end, and stood up to go inside without a word.