Chapter 73: Irenicus's Grove
After the small group's harrowing trek through filthy, goblin-infested tunnels, few things could have felt more out of place than the lavish bedchamber they found themselves in after sneaking past their captor's guardian beast.
The lush grove that lay beyond the bedchamber, complete with living trees and pools of water, was one such thing.
"It's so beautiful," Imoen exclaimed reverently. "Oh, there is simply no way that this place belongs to the same person that made those horrible glass containers."
"I don't think our captor would rent out space. It must be his," Ember replied. Something bothered her about the grove, but she couldn't quite pin down what.
The grove truly was beautiful, Ember conceded. Its air, suffused by a soft, golden light, was pleasantly warm. Rich grass covered the ground, yielding under their feet like a soft, cool carpet as they walked towards the closest pond. Its surface was perfectly smooth, and bright flowers grew around the rim. There were no streams or springs that Ember could see, but the water was not stagnant; it was as clear and fresh as any mountain brook. Imoen ran her hand through the surface of the pond, disrupting the utter silence of the grove with a slight splash.
It's too quiet.
"Boo wonders why there are no little bugs here," Minsc said.
Ember studied their surroundings more closely. The impression of warmth and life was only skin deep, and faded quickly as she looked at the perfectly aligned trees. They seemed to rest uncomfortably in the soil they grew from, and not a single bee lived between their branches. There were no insects of any kind, no birds, no rustling leaves, no trickles of water. The grove was false in every sense of the word; nothing truly lived in it.
"It's not just the insects," Ember said. "The trees would never stand so straight in nature. The water would never be so clear, especially not in a pond. This grove is too perfect, and all wrong. It's... it's a hollow mockery of what it should be."
Imoen nodded, tight-lipped. "It really is his, then," she murmured, and pulled away from the water.
A young girl with pale green skin peered out from behind one of the trees. "Sister, save us!" she pleaded, looking straight at Ember.
"Yes, help us!" someone else added, and a second figure, a slender woman with skin as brown as bark, stepped out from behind another tree.
"Free us!" a third voice cried, and a golden-green face appeared amidst the branches of an apple tree that bore neither flower nor fruit.
Imoen gasped. "They're dryads, aren't they?" she asked. Ember nodded.
"Pretty forest spirits have no place in a den of stinking evil! Boo does not understand! Why are you here?" Minsc asked.
"We are his possessions," the golden-green dryad said. Somehow, she was now standing on the ground before them.
"His servants," added the pale green dryad, also moving out from behind her tree. Her voice sounded like rain.
"His concubines," the brown dryad said. "Please, help us to escape!"
The three dryads were as lovely as the one Ember had seen in the Cloudpeaks, but there was a haunted look in their eyes, and there was an odd stiffness about the way they moved; it reminded Ember of the careful way very old women carried themselves. It was a heartbreaking sight. "What can we do to help?" she asked.
"Sister, if you can leave this place, take our acorns with you. Bring them to our Queen. Tell her of our plight in this creature's lair, so that she may free us," the golden-green dryad said.
"It is many years since we have bathed in sunlight," the brown dryad whispered. "He brought us here, and he keeps us here, even though we cannot affect him. We are supposed to instill emotion, but he is barren inside. I do not know what he expects!"
"Irenicus searches for something he cannot find, and he looks within those that have no more idea than he," the pale green dryad added.
"Irenicus..." Imoen muttered. "So, that's his name."
The dryad nodded. "A name that is synonymous with death and ugliness."
"No," Imoen said in a faraway voice, "death sounds different. He showed me... he..." She shook her head violently, and looked like she was about to pass out. Ember and Minsc rushed to her side to support her. "I don't want to think about it! I just want to go home," she lamented, rubbing her temples with the palms of her hands.
What did that monster do to her? "We'll go home," Ember said quietly, stroking Imoen's head. "I'll get you home. I promise."
"Minsc and Boo promise as well," Minsc said in an uncharacteristically low voice.
Ember turned towards the dryads. "Where can we find your Queen?" she asked.
"In the south end of the Windspear Hills," the pale green one replied. "She dwells near a lake there, along with our sisters. When you are near, our acorns will lead you to her." She headed towards one of the oak trees and whispered into a branch; the other two dryads followed suit. A faint light surrounded them as they each plucked a tiny, glowing acorn from their trees. The light faded fast; by the time they handed the acorns to Ember, the glow was already gone.
"We will help you escape," the pale green dryad told them. "You must pass through a portal to continue. One of the keys to it is kept in Her room. Follow, and I will take you there."
The two other dryads remained behind while the pale green one led the small group deeper into the grove, past more quiet pools and flowerless trees, to a wall of dark rock. An archway of carved marble, identical to the one they had entered through, was set in the wall, and beyond it lay a circular chamber, even more stunning than its counterpart on the other side of the grove. Intricately designed branches curved all over the walls and across the vaulted ceiling and around a window that looked out at a mass of black rock. A large bed with sheets of rosy silk dominated the room; gauzy drapes decorated its headboard. Similar drapes covered most of the useless window and adorned the sides of a large silvered mirror. Dressers and chests and wardrobes, carved from the same dark wood as the bed, lined most of the walls, and a thick carpet covered the entire floor.
It was a bedchamber fit for a queen. And it had never been used.
"We come here sometimes, to look at Her things," the dryad said, carefully picking up a leaf-shaped glass vial that lay on a dresser. "She was a lost love; this is his monument to Her, perfect in every detail."
Imoen ran her fingers over a silken cushion. "He talked about her, sometimes. He'd talk about her while... while he..." Her voice fell almost to a whisper. "His voice was cold... No emotion at all, not even remembered. If he could care for anything, he would care for this room, but he doesn't. It means nothing to him. And we mean even less. It makes me sick. I hate him, Em. I really, really hate him."
Ember took Imoen's hand and squeezed it tight. He will pay for what he's done to her. To us all.
---
The lady's bedchamber contained little of interest; the dresser and table were littered with perfume vials and other little ornaments, and the portal key was kept in a small compartment in the nightstand, but there was nothing in the chests, drawers and wardrobes. They were all empty, waiting for the belongings of a woman who would never arrive.
Having secured the key, the three of them followed the dryad back to the other bedchamber. She showed them another doorway, smaller and far less conspicuous than the marble archways. "The portal lies beyond that door," the dryad told them. "I can go no further; I must remain by my tree."
"I understand," Ember said, wondering how Irenicus had managed to imprison the dryads. How did he bring them here without killing them? How could he move their trees without them wilting? "Thank you for your help."
The dryad almost smiled. "It is we who must thank you; it is a noble thing you are doing for us. Go now. May the forest always open a path for you!"
As the dryad returned to her tree and her sisters, Ember started opening the drawers in the chamber they stood in. They were all empty. Even though the room did look like it'd been put to some use, there wasn't a single personal item in it, not even clothing. Imoen found a pile of blank scrolls in a desk, but not a single actual document.
"Clever Boo! Look what he has found!" Minsc opened a glass cabinet in a corner and pulled an intricately decorated helmet out of it.
"Oh, that's a nice one! Let me take a look," Imoen said. She accepted the helmet from Minsc and looked closely at it, running her fingers over the markings. "Hmm... it's enchanted, that's for sure. No curses, just powerful blessings. I don't think he's used it as anything but decoration, either," she pronounced. "Try it on!"
Imoen handed the helmet back to Minsc, who put it on. "Ahh, now this is a helmet fit for heroes!" Minsc exclaimed, beaming. Ember smiled at their large friend; even with his tattered clothes and wild hair, he did seem more like a hero with the enchanted helmet on. He looked stronger and healthier; he stood straighter. With the helmet on, Minsc almost seemed like himself again.
Satisfied that there was nothing else to learn or gain from the chamber, Ember led Imoen and Minsc through the small door into a dark room, lit only by the wavering glow of a magical portal. It was identical to the one they had found near their cells.
"You don't think it'll lead back to our cells, do you?" Imoen asked nervously.
Gods, I hope not. "Only one way to find out," Ember muttered. "Do your thing."
Imoen raised the key and pressed it against the portal. The surface rippled for a moment, then turned into a golden mist. "Everyone ready?" she asked.
Linking hands, the three friends stepped into the hazy opening. Golden mist surrounded them for a moment, then faded away to reveal what looked to be a simple storage room, littered with crates. The room was poorly lit and quite a bit colder than the chambers on the other side. A short man dressed in faded browns sat on one of the larger crates in a corner. The moment he saw them, he sprang up and drew a curved blade, assuming a defensive stance.
"Who stands before me?" the man asked.
"We've been held captive here," Ember said warily. "We are trying to get out. Do you intend to stop us?"
The man relaxed and lowered his blade. "Then your situation is as mine! If you are not in league with the evil that dwells in this unholy place, Yoshimo begs your assistance."
"How is it you come to be here, little man?" Minsc asked.
"I am not sure," Yoshimo said, scratching his head. "All I remember is going to bed in my room at the Copper Coronet one evening, only to awake imprisoned in a strange room with a very sore head. I freed myself and went in search for an exit, but the very next chamber I entered was full of small, cackling fiends that tried to kill me. I managed to elude most of them and escape into this room, but they still await me beyond that door." He pointed down a dark corridor. "There were no exits where you came from, I presume?"
"There was another magical portal, but I'm don't really think we could get back to it," Imoen said. "We tricked a golem into opening some doors for us, and I'm pretty sure it closed them behind us."
"Ah, an inspired feat!" Yoshimo said.
"So, what kind of creatures were your little fiends?" Ember asked.
"I will show you." Yoshimo moved towards the corridor. "This one followed me in here," he said, nudging what looked like a pile of twigs and frozen leather with his foot.
Imoen bent down and examined the bundle. "Ew, it's a mephit. Ice mephit, by the looks of it."
"We killed some of those earlier," Ember told Yoshimo. "Maybe we could get past them together?"
"Four may well succeed where one failed! I shall be happy to lend my blade to our shared cause." Yoshimo bowed slightly, then gave them a broad smile. "Now, by what names shall I call my new companions?"