The box smashed open, and blue flames billowed out in all directions. Joel felt a blast of hot air. Then everything went black.
Eighteen
Joel heard Holly calling his name. She was pleading with him to wake up. Jedidiah needed him.
Well, of course, Jedidiah needed him, Joel thought. That's how it is with gods. They need us, and we need them. He opened his eyes and blinked several times.
Everything was all silver around him. Holly's face came into view. She looked pale enough for light to shine through her.
"He's awake!" Holly cried out. "Joel, stay with us."
"I can hear you… no need to shout," the bard said, but his voice sounded far off. He shook his head. "What-what happened?"
"When you destroyed the banelich's phylactery, there was a huge explosion," Holly said. "Look at yourself."
The Rebel Bard looked back down at his body. His tunic and shirt were burned to a crisp, and his skin beneath was pink as a newborn's-and painful to touch.
"I healed you as best I could," the paladin explained. She handed him half the finder's stone. "This fell from your shirt."
"What about the banelich?" Joel asked, sliding the gem into his boot.
"It turned to dust as soon as the phylactery was destroyed," Holly explained.
Suddenly Joel realized something was wrong. "Where's Jedidiah?" he demanded.
"You'd better come see," Holly said. She sailed off over Bane's body. Joel followed her, very slowly. He had a hard time concentrating.
Jedidiah lay with his head in Jas's lap. He was unconscious. His face and hands were terribly scarred, and his breathing was shallow and ragged. The god had his gift of immortality, but without the power to heal the grievous wounds the banelich had inflicted on him, Jedidiah might never recover. In his hands he clutched half of the finder's stone-the stolen half, which held the power that could restore to him all his godly abilities and, Joel hoped fervently, heal his wounds.
Joel knelt beside his god. Very gently he pulled the finder's stone from his hands. As if Jedidiah knew it was him, the god wielded up the gem.
Joel lifted his head and began to sing. His voice still sounded very far off, but he knew the tulip song well enough that it didn't matter.
The finder's stone began to glow softly, then to steam. Misty blue smoke writhed outward toward Jedidiah's body and surrounded him. Slowly the power sank back into its source.
Jedidiah's scars began to heal, and his breathing grew strong and steady. Without warning, his eyes snapped open.
"Lo," Jedidiah said.
"Hello, yourself," Joel replied with a smile. He handed Jedidiah the emptied half of the finder's stone.
"You might have been killed destroying that phylactery, you know," Jedidiah chided Joel.
Joel shrugged. "I might have lost my god if I hadn't," he pointed out.
"Where's Walinda?" Jedidiah asked.
"Did she ever come back?" Joel looked up at Jas.
"Who cares?" the winged woman muttered.
"She never returned," Holly said.
"What happened to the Hand of Bane?" Jedidiah asked.
Holly held up a leather sack and shook it. Its contents rattled like dried bones.
"That should make Lathander happy," Jedidiah muttered, sitting up slowly.
"Yes," Holly said. "I am to scatter the pieces about the multiverse," she said.
"Get that order in another vision, did you?" Jedidiah teased.
"Since my lord Lathander is not in the habit of posing as a feeble old adventurer, that is how he makes his wishes known. Yes," the paladin replied with a sassy tone. "My lord Lathander also wishes you to know that he thinks you are a reckless fool."
"God of Reckless Fools," Jedidiah agreed with a grin. "He could have popped in at any time to show me how I should have done it. Not that I would have listened, necessarily, but I'm always open to suggestions from the haughty and powerful."
Holly tossed her head and sniffed, but Joel didn't think she was really offended. Had she asked Lathander, the bard wondered, why it was Jedidiah who had to save her in the desert and not Lathander?
"And you, Lady Jas," Jedidiah asked, "do you have any criticisms you wish to share?" Jedidiah asked the winged woman.
"I learned a long time ago not to mess with gods," Jas replied.
"But the gods have messed with you anyway," Jedidiah noted, stroking some of the feathers growing on Jas's face. "Perhaps I can remedy the damage Xvim's priests have done to you," he suggested.
"I think the darkness inside of me is something I have to deal with myself," Jas said.
"Very well," Jedidiah said, "but perhaps I shall check in on you sometime to see if you need a song to lighten your heart."
"I think I could tolerate that level of godly interference," Jas replied. "Maybe."
"Then I guess it's time I escorted you all back to the Realms," Jedidiah said.
Joel shook his head. "I need to return to Sigil," he said. "But I don't want you following this time. It's way too risky."
Jedidiah looked surprised and more than a little concerned. "Does-does this mean you're leaving me?" he asked.
"Only for a while," Joel assured him. "I thought I'd help Holly hide the Hand of Bane. Then I have another duty."
"Oh?"
"I owe the end of a story to a bariaur. When I've finished my tale, I hope Dits will tell it to others… other priests and other gods. Maybe even the Athar."
"You'll have to tell it to me when you return," Jedidiah replied.
Joel grinned broadly. "You'll be able to hear it firsthand when I tell it in Sigil," he said. "I've restored your ability to sense what happens around your priests… around me."
"I know," Jedidiah said.
"But you still want to hear me tell the tale," Joel realized aloud. 'You want to hear me say your name and tell people that I'm your priest."
"Yes," Jedidiah said with a sheepish grin.
"That's my purpose… to strengthen you, as you strengthen me," Joel said. "A priest's purpose is not about being a slave to power as Walinda thought. It's a covenant about growing and renewing one another, god and follower both."
Jedidiah sighed and smiled. "Yes," he agreed.
"I understand now," Joel said, "I can accept that I'm your priest, without reservations, now and forever."
"And I accept the gift of your following with great joy," Jedidiah said. "Forever."
The Rebel Bard held out his hand.
On the corpse of a dead deity the god Finder clasped hands with his faithful priest.