49. The War of Sacrifice

Xan sighed. He and Stai were standing on the roof of the Iron Throne building, unnoticed and unseen. Stai blocked the door, put an invisibility spell over the small spot they were standing on, and now was peering intently into the scrying ball. A lock of Winski's hair lay next to her.
"I cannot see," she whispered. "Winski teleported into the woods, then almost instantly returned, but not alone. A powerful teleportation spell... five or seven Rogue stones... but where are they now?"
"In the city?" Xan asked quickly.
"Not quite. Around the city, close to this building... but not in the city. Over the city? Underneath the city?" Stai looked at him questioningly.
"Wait. Two days are about to pass..." Xan bit his lip. "The Undercity? Sarevok talked about it, remember?"
"And I cannot scry there... why?"
Xan and Stai looked at each other.
"Sarevok is a Bhaalspawn..."
"Bhaal's temple!" they finished together.
"Can we teleport there?" Xan frowned. "Bhaal's temple... Ala and Imoen--they may die at any moment!"
"Imoen is safe," Stai answered briskly, searching her pockets. "My last Rogue stone. Do you think we should head there right now?"
"Of course!"
"Then we shall," Stai closed her eyes. "But... I don't know, Xan. I feel it is about to be over--all this. Like my control over what's happening is slipping, like it's never been there in the first place. How can I strip Ala of her divinity, if I do not even know where my master is?"
"Do you even know how to strip a Bhaalspawn of her divine essence?" Xan raised an eyebrow.
"I told you, not yet. But I knew it was possible, I knew I could do it! Master Joneleth... if he was here, he would know and explain. I planned to find him first, to bring Ala to him--then we could do the exchange. Ala's divine half would go to him, and she would be free. Now, without him, with her at Sarevok's hands--I do not know what to do."
"Concentrate," Xan took her hand. "Concentrate, or we are all doomed. Is there a way to make an exchange in the distance? So that your master wakes up restored?"
"Not without divine interference, no," Stai smiled ruefully. "Then again, it does not matter now. We must simply go and rescue Ala. My friend's daughter should not die."

Ala awoke on the altar. Her arms and legs were free, but when she tried to rise, her muscles froze, as if an evil hand was holding her. Ala looked around: she was in a huge hall, semi-dark and dry. It reminded her of the interior of the Friendly Arm Inn, though this empty place, pregnant with danger, was not friendly at all.
And I am alone, Ala thought. Imoen, Jaheira... Where are they? Are they alive?
"My little sister," a booming voice said. "Welcome."
Ala turned her head. And bit her tongue, hard.
Her nightmare was standing in front of her. A tall man in crude spiky armor.. and eyes. Golden eyes.
He doesn't do breathing exercises, Ala thought. He just allows the beast to take hold.
"I heard you stopped my operation in Nashkel," the man continued. "Your journey to the Gate was a lucky coincidence. I was planning to meet you soon, myself."
"You killed Gorion..." Ala whispered.
"And many others, girl. Do you know who I am?"
"Sarevok..."
"Indeed. You have Harpers traveling with you. Gorion was a Harper. Now Harpers undermine my preparations here in the city. So do the Zhentarim. And so do you."
"And you want to kill us all?" Ala gulped: her throat was dry as paper. "I'd rather you started with Zhents, then."
"Silence. You consorted with a Wychlaran and a wizard of Thay."
"Dynaheir is ill," Ala answered tiredly. "By the time she recovers, you will be done with me. And Edwin is in your power."
"The wizard escaped," Sarevok said dryly. "He deserted you before, did he not?"
"Why are you even talking to me?" Ala looked at the man who was her brother. "You want to kill me, don't you?"
"And you are not afraid?"
Ala opened her mouth and suddenly realized Sarevok was right. She feared bandits, xvarts, her dreams, Gorion's death, her heritage, spiders--but she was not afraid now. Did Cyric's promise hold so much power over her? "Gorion's killer. A man who wants to start a war over the iron crisis. Your brother." Well, she met all three now.
Ala lay back on the stone slab, smiled, shook her head and closed her eyes.
"There she is!" Xzar whispered. "See, Monty? There!"
They were standing on a heap of rubble. A small crack in the temple's wall did not give them much of a view, but they saw both Sarevok and Ala.
"Shut yer yep, wizard," Montaron grumbled. "He's here."
"What are you going to do?" Branwen whispered. "Surely what Sarevok is doing is dishonorable..."
"Yeah, yeah, heard that. Bhaalspawn lass on the altar, her companions waitin' for 'em deaths in 'em back rooms. We're here to watch, understand?.." Montaron suddenly stopped and nudged Xzar, hard. "Who're they?"
A small group of people entered the labyrinth of underground catacombs and were heading for the temple entrance.
"Harpers," Branwen whispered. "See the golden pins?"
"What are they doing here?" Xzar whispered.
"Maybe it be has to do with yer papers, eh?" Montaron chuckled. "I gathered all diaries and letters from Sarevok's room as ye were runnin'."
"I told you to keep them!" Xzar hissed.
"Heh, I did. Only I paid a girl to make copies, and sent 'em to Harpers' Hold. Good, eh?"
"And now Harpers are marching towards the temple to stop the foul rituals," Branwen whispered excitedly. "Did you mention the temple, too?"
"Nae. Suspected without me papers, methinks."
The armed procession reached the temple's gates.
"I think we must go inside," Branwen said quietly and froze. From the entrance to the catacombs, another group was approaching. A tall bald man, a hamster on his shoulder, and a skinny woman with a cane. A young man in red robes walked behind them.
"Wychlaran whore," Xzar whispered. "We met her in Nashkel! But... what is he doing with her? This is a Red Wizard!"
"Kill 'em all," Montaron growled but didn't move. "And they be headin' inside, too?"
"Looks like..."
The men and the woman passed to the entrance. A hamster squeaked, and all was quiet.
"Maybe we should follow..." Branwen started again and gulped. A bright light shone from the stony ceiling, and two disheveled elves appeared on the path. One of them was wearing purple robes.
"The enchanter!" Xzar whispered. "Mommy, mommy, panic! Rabbits!"
"That's it," Branwen took a deep breath. "Follow me, comrades."

Something was wrong. Ala opened one eye.
Sarevok stood with his back to her, facing the door. Ala heard indistinct voices.
"Jaheira!" she cried out. "Khalid, Jaheira, I am here! Imoen!"
"Jaheira and Khalid are not here," answered a cold voice. "Yet you are here, Bhaalspawn. Both of you. Where is your sister, Imoen?"
"Sarevok has taken her prisoner," answered Ala, feeling there was something terribly wrong. "Khalid and Jaheira, too."
"I am Dermin, Jaheira's old mentor," the voice continued. "We are here to eradicate you, Sarevok Anchev. For your plans to start a war, for the murder of our brother Gorion. And you, Ala, his sister and accomplice, will follow your brother to the Abyss."
"I am not his accomplice!"
"No matter," Sarevok's voice rumbled. "You will go nowhere, neither of you. Semaj, Angelo, bring forth the prisoners! We will end this fast."
"WHO IS HURTING LITTLE ALA? GO FOR THE SPIKES, BOO, GO!"
"What are you doing, you insufferable monkey? I did not teleport you from Nashkel for your weasel to lick my hood... oww! Let go of my ear, you freak!"
Ala could not see him, could not see anyone behind Sarevok's back--only the ceiling and a small part of the grand hall, but somehow it did not matter. Her friends were here.
"Edwin!" Ala shouted, not trying to conceal her delight. "Minsc! I am here!"
"We heard this already," replied Edwin's annoyed voice. "Now what?"
Ala heard the rustle of the robes, and a familiar voice broke the silence:
"Dermin! It is I, Jaheira!"
"Jaheira, my darling, finally!" the cold voice became softer. "Tell me true: did Gorion's wards assist Sarevok Anchev in his affairs? We received some documents, and suffice is to say that Anchev will hang as soon as he is brought to justice. Tainting the ore, financing the bandits--he sowed death, and now he shall reap it."
"Ala and Imoen were never on his side!" Jaheira replied indignantly. "Sarevok killed Gorion, who was like father to then. We labored against him, until we were captured by his lackey, Tazok."
"Mommy!" someone shouted excitedly. "So many Rabbits! It's like traveling back to the future!"
Ala closed her eyes tiredly. Now Xzar. Great. Everyone is here. Except Xan, but I am sure he'll show up sooner or later.
"If there is to be a battle, perhaps you will let me go, brother?" she asked. "So that I will die like a warrior with a blade in my hands?"
Sarevok looked at her. Ala turned her head: there were indistinct figures near the exit, and other figures near the other wall: her companions, bound.
"We must talk," Ala whispered. "Sarevok, we must talk."
"This is a dead end," she heard Edwin's voice. "A stalemate. Zhents, Harpers, Thay and Rasheman, bad Bhaalspawn and very bad Bhaalspawn--and no way out. At least, none that I see."
"No," somebody sighed, and Ala recognized Xan. When did he appear? Was she dreaming? "We're all doomed."
Doomed, Ala thought. Doomed. And Sarevok is still standing next to me, and I do not see what he has in his hand...
Then a clear melodic voice said:
"My name is Stai. I think we can handle this."