"He is strong, but he is only the essence of the god," Walinda explained. "He cannot send his power across the astral void."
"He doesn't know half of what Jedidiah knows about anything. He's just a banelich using you for his own mad schemes."
Walinda set her hand down on Joel's knee and leaned in closer to the young bard. "My lord Bane said you would try to sway my belief in him, Poppin. He knows you are jealous of his power. He is wise as well as powerful." Her fingers tightened on his knee, her nails poking into his flesh. The scent of the wine about her was cloying.
Joel lifted her hand away and set it on the table. "I couldn't care less about his power. You were the one who came in to talk to me," he pointed out. "Could it be that you have your own doubts? Could it be that you're tired of being the slave of a heartless lich?"
Walinda chuckled. "But the banelich does have a heart, Poppin," she confided with a drunken certainty. She slid her hand into his shirt. "He keeps it here in a small silver box." She pressed her fingers against his breastbone and slid her hand along his ribs.
Joel grabbed at her wrist and once again pulled her hand away from his body, then released it.
Walinda jerked her head up and breathed in deeply. "I am prepared to admit," she said with the exaggerated enunciation of an offended drunk, "that the banelich who holds my lord's essence is not perfect. It has its weaknesses. The fool has borne your mentor's insolence because it is afraid we will not succeed without his help. Desperation and fear are weaknesses not to be tolerated." She downed the rest of the drink in her cup and set it down on the table.
"So why are you helping this weak thing become Bane?" Joel asked.
"When Bane is resurrected, the banelich will not matter. I will be Bane's chosen priest," she whispered excitedly. She put both hands on his face and leaned forward.
Joel clenched his jaw, determined to show no reaction to the priestess's kiss. But Walinda did not kiss him. Instead, she bit him on the lower lip, not too hard, but not gently either.
More than a little frightened, Joel grabbed both her wrists and pulled away. "How do you know Bane won't choose the banelich for his priest?" he asked. "Suppose it really is Bane's essence that's desperate and afraid? Suppose you've enslaved yourself to a weak god who is jealous of your own strength? What kind of weak, desperate fool does that make you?"
Walinda stiffened. "My Lord Bane is power and strength. I will not tolerate your blasphemy." She rose unsteadily to her feet and strode to the door, bumping her shin on the table as she passed. She turned in the doorway. "My only foolishness was expecting you might wish to share in my triumph. When we find the Hand of Bane, you will witness my god's resurrection and see me exalted as his most loyal servant. Then you will know what true power is. I will ask Lord Bane to take you to your god, Poppin, so that you may see what a poor, cheap thing your Finder is beside my lord."
Then she spun about and strode out the door toward her own room.
Joel picked up his cup and held it up. "Here's to you, Finder, you poor, cheap thing," he toasted, then drained the cup. Finder, he knew, would laugh at the irony.
Joel couldn't remember falling asleep. He awoke in a dark place, with a throbbing headache, and realized he was bound hand and foot and slung over the shoulder of some great monster. His insides churned, and he heaved the contents of his dinner and Walinda's liquor down his captor's back.
The creature growled some unknown word, no doubt a curse, and set Joel down, none too gently, on the ground. A lamp shone somewhere in the distance, silhouetting Joel's captor. The bard gasped. The monster was one of the bull-headed soldiers of the Celestial Bureaucracy, a go-zu-oni. The bard wracked his aching head trying to figure out what had happened, why he was being carried off.
The go-zu-oni pulled off its cloak and wiped off the garment with the bottom of Joel's shirt. Joel cried out, and the go-zu-oni stuffed a rag in his mouth, then swung him back over its shoulder.
Joel couldn't see where he was or where they were going. He was having trouble breathing and only wished that the go-zu-oni would set him down again soon. Joel passed out.
He regained consciousness to the sensation of ice-cold lingers stroking his face. He was lying on the ground. Someone holding a lantern hovered over him. Joel squinted in the light, trying to make out the someone's face.
"Yes. This is the one," a familiar voice said.
Joel's eyes widened. It was the banelich who held the lantern. The undead creature's lipless smile, which exposed its brown teeth and yellow tongue, was horrible to see. The young bard shuddered.
The banelich set the lamp on the ground and turned away from Joel to address the go-zu-oni who stood behind him. "You've done well."
"Now you will pay me what you promised," the go-zu-oni demanded.
"Accept your reward," the banelich whispered and reached out to touch the giant creature.
The go-zu-oni gasped and fell to the ground, its face very near Joel's. The creature's eyes were open but unblinking. Blood ran from its mouth, nose, and ears, The banelich had killed it with a touch.
The undead creature bent over Joel again and grabbed a fistful of his hair. Joel tried to wriggle away, but the banelich held him fast. "Now we will see what sort of fool your master is," it said. "I believe he will do anything to purchase your worthless life."
The banelich whispered an unknown word, and a black aura surrounded the fingers of its free hand. It brushed aside Joel's shirt and lay its hand on the bard's chest near his heart.
A searing cold tingled over Joel's flesh, and an agonizing pain shot through his lungs and heart. Joel's scream was stifled by the rag in his mouth.
"I need you alive," the banelich said, "but you must pay for your master's insolence.
Unable to respond, Joel glared up at the undead monster with hatred.
"Yes," the banelich said, removing its hand. "You think you are strong. Torturing you will be delightful. Then I will trade you for the Hand of Bane and still keep your master's stone." The banelich stood up. "I must write your precious Jedidiah a note. When I return, we will journey to the astral plane."
The banelich picked up the lantern and strode $ leaving Joel in the dark. Joel heard the clang of a metal door, then silence.
The chill in Joel's chest was unbearable. He laid his bound hands over his heart, desperate for warmth. He couldn't let the banelich use him to force Jedidiah's surrender of the Hand of Bane. He had to escape, but how? What could he do?
It took him several moments to gather his wits, but finally it occurred to him that first he needed to escape the pain, and to do that he had to cast a spell. That, in turn, meant he must be able to speak. It took him what seemed like an interminably long time to push the rag out of his mouth with his tongue, but he finally succeeded.
He gasped for air, then hastily murmured a healing prayer. Warmth spread across his chest and the pain subsided. Now he was able to think more clearly.
He needed to free himself from his bonds. He wriggled over beside the go-zu-oni's body and, in the dark, began feeling around the creature for a weapon. Joel could find no sharp-edged weapon on the monster. Its body was colder than its armor.
Metal armor can be heated, Joel thought, remembering the spell Jedidiah had taught him. Concentrating on the go-zu-oni's spiked helmet, Joel whispered the words that would warm the metal to a searing red heat.
The stench from the go-zu-oni's hair was awful, but Joel managed to burn away the sisal rope at his wrists and ankles without burning his own flesh too badly. Then he crawled in the direction of the door.
He found the door in the dark. There was no light coining from under or over the door or through the keyhole. Joel put his ear to the door. No sound came from beyond. With no clue to guide him, the bard's only choice was to risk it.