"We are on the Plane of Shadow, Evrel," Cale said, his voice heavy with fatigue. "Do not be concerned. I'll be taking us back to Faerun soon. This is just a waystop."
"Soon?" Evrel asked, and rubbed his chin.
"Soon," Cale answered. The shadows nourished him and his strength already was returning. He patted Magadon on the shoulder and stood on his own feet.
A cry from up the mast drew their eyes.
"There, look there!" called a crewman, and pointed to the sky.
High above them, a swirling mass of black forms like a flock of giant bats detached from a cloud and wheeled downward.
Thunder boomed in the distance.
The forms circled and wheeled, finally headed for the ship. They became distinguishable as they got closer. Pinpoints of red light dotted the mass.
"Shadows," Jak said, and pulled out his jeweled pendant holy symbol. "Trickster's hairy toes."
Hundreds of undead shadows were streaking for the ship.
"Arms, men," Evrel ordered, and the crew started snapping up weapons. Those in the rigging and nests rapidly descended toward the deck to stand with their fellows.
Cale saw Mask's purpose then, understood why the Shadowlord had brought him back to the Plane of Shadow. He put his hand on Evrel's shoulder and shook his head.
"Unnecessary, captain. They will not harm you. They're coming for me."
"What in the twelve seas does that mean?" Evrel asked.
"Cale?" Jak asked.
Cale stared into the sky, watching the horde approach. The Shadowlord had put a weapon in his hand. He had only to use it.
"Put away your symbol, little man," Cale said, and donned his mask.
"Stay your hands!" Evrel ordered his crew.
The sailors looked at each other nervously but let their weapons hang loosely at their sides.
The shadows circled downward until they swarmed the air near the masts. Several creatures broke off and wheeled over the deck. They were humanoid in shape, but amorphous, trailing streamers of shadow as they flew.
Cale waited. Several descended to the deck, floated in front of him, and stared into his face. He let shadows leak from his flesh. Red eyes flared in response and the creatures flew back up to join the black mass over the mast. From there, hundreds of pairs of red eyes fixed on Cale, watched him, measured him. The sky was blanketed with a cloud of the unliving. The creatures radiated cold and the entire crew shivered under their gaze. Not Cale.
The shadows hovered there, waiting. Cale knew they were his to command. He held up his hands and let Mask's power run through him and reach into the sky. The cloud of shadows swirled in answer, excited, eager. Cale gave them only a single command, and his voice carried clearly into the sky. "Come when I call."
The shadows churned around the masts, around the sails, and their red eyes flared. Cale took it as an acknowledgement. With that, the cloud dispersed and the shadows vanished into the darkness of the plane.
The crew stood silent. Cale felt Jak and Magadon's eyes on him. He thought of Sephris's words to him: The darkness has soaked you. But there is more to come.
Cale knew it to be true. Mask had only some of what he wanted. The Shadowlord always wanted more.
But so did Cale. And while serving Mask had its price, it also brought power. The darkness answered to Cale more than it did to anyone. And now it had given him the means to catch and kill the slaadi.
Lightning lined the sky. Thunder boomed its approval.
"What in the Trickster's name just happened?" Jak asked.
"Nothing," Cale said. "It's time to return to Faerun."
Magadon said, "Are you . .. able?"
Cale nodded. The energies of the Plane of Shadow had restored his energy quickly.
"Not nearly soon enough," Evrel said, and did not make eye contact with Cale.
"Ready your crew," Cale said to him.
In moments, Cale drew the darkness around the ship once more. When the pitch engulfed Demon Binder, Cale again pictured Traitor's Isle, seized the ship in his grasp, and moved it through the planes. The effort did not tire him this time; his power had grown.
He let the darkness fade away to reveal the sheer, rocky sides of Traitor's Isle. Demon Binder floated in the waters a bowshot away from the island's cliffs.
A satisfied murmur sounded from the crew. Even Jak and Magadon sighed with relief.
"Look there," one of the sailors said, and pointed toward the sky.
Above the midmast whirled a black maelstrom, a portal that Cale had left open between the Prime Plane and the Plane of Shadow. It hung in the air above the mast, an empty hole in the sky. Red dots began to appear within it.
The shadows were gathering.
Cale could feel their anticipation. He had but to call them forth.
"What are you doing, Cale?" Jak asked, and Cale heard the alarm in his voice.
"I am using the weapons at hand," Cale said. "I'm sending the entire swarm of shadows after the slaadi."
He knew the creatures would catch the slaadi's ship. They flew as quickly as arrows.
"What? What are you saying? The crew, Cale," Jak said.
Cale whirled on Jak. "What about them, Jak? They're in league with the slaadi, aren't they?" Jak did not quail before Cale's anger. "Maybe, but maybe not. They might just be a hired ship. And no one deserves to die like that, Cale." Jak pointed up at the gathering shadows.
"Dead is dead, little man," Cale said, and held up his arms to call forth the shadows.
Jak's hand closed on his cloak. "No, Cale. It's not. Listen to me. You don't see it, but I do. This is how he's trying to bring you in all the way. He sets you up to seek revenge and gives you a method, his method, to achieve it. But that doesn't have to be your method. I've said it to you before." He shook Cale's cloak. "Cale, I've said it to you before-keep yourself. Keep yourself."
Jak's words tweaked Cale's conscience. He stared up at the shadows, looked at his hands, at the eyes of the crew, the eyes of his friends. The horror on their faces brought him back to himself.
What was he thinking?
"Take off the mask, Cale," Jak said. "Take it off."
Cale nodded and removed his mask. He saw it then, saw it the way Jak saw it. Mask kept feeding him power a little at a time, just when he needed it so much that he would use it. That was how Mask hoped to win his soul, control him.
Cale would not allow it. He shook his head.
"No," he murmured to the shadows.
He knelt down, turned, and looked Jak in the eye. "I hear your words, Jak. We do it our way. With our methods."
Jak smiled, thumped him on the shoulder.
Cale stood and with an effort of will caused the portal to the shadow plane to close. The shadows wailed as the portal squeezed shut. The moment it did, a wave of fatigue nearly brought Cale to his knees. He leaned on Jak, who grunted under his weight but kept him upright.
"Are you all right, Erevis?" Magadon asked, helping Jak bear him.
Cale nodded. He took a deep breath and stood on his own feet.
"Mags, look through Riven's eyes, try to determine which way they're heading." He hurried to the back of the forecastle and shouted down to Evrel, "Captain, get this ship ready to move as fast as it can."
The captain overcame whatever wonder he felt at Cale's feat, nodded, and started barking orders. Within moments, Demon Binder raised anchor and lowered her sails. Evrel's crew even raised the topsails.
"Mags?" Cale asked.
The rosy halo around Magadon's head faded and he opened his eyes.
"Due west," he said to Cale.
"Due west," Cale shouted down to Evrel, who relayed it to Ashin.
Demon Binder was soon underway.
An hour later, Jak and Cale stood at the prow, staring ahead at empty sea. There was no sign of the slaadi's ship. Cale turned and looked behind them. Traitor's Isle was lost to the darkness.