Shal's words jarred the two men from their stunned silence. Tarl rushed to Shal and wrapped his arms around her. The big woman's muscular body went completely limp, and Tarl could only slow her collapse to the ground.
"I've-I've never seen anything quite like that," Ren said simply. "Will she be okay?" Ren looked to Tarl, and in his eyes he could see the fear that blanketed his friend's face. "Can you help her?"
"I-I don't know." Tarl responded numbly, and he shook his head. "My god, she's powerful!… But even as strong as she is, her body wasn't ready for that kind of expenditure of energy."
He closed his hands around both of hers and uttered a prayer of restoration and rejuvenation. In moments, he could feel a pulse of warmth and renewed strength building in Shal's exhausted body. As with the other times he had healed Shal, he was nearly overwhelmed by the bond that flowed between them. He felt as though he were only a whisper away from sensing all of her emotions, and for the first time, he was certain that she shared the bond. When she opened her eyes and stared directly at him, he knew she did.
"Are you okay?" asked Ren, stooping down beside Shal.
She nodded, and he cuffed her gently on the shoulder. "I don't ever want to be on the other side of a fight with you, woman. I never felt so helpless in all my life. My swords and daggers could've been butter knives for all the good they would've done me against you or Yarash."
Shal sat bolt upright. "We've got to find him! He won't stop making those creatures, those abominations. He's obsessed. It's the generation of those perverse creatures that pollutes the river, and he thrives on their creation. I'm no mind reader, but during the battle, I could feel his presence, his essence. He's crazy-completely chaotic. And his obsession doesn't end with the Stojanow River."
"Can you get us out to the island?" Ren asked. "I know you've probably already used your quota of magic for at least the next week, but-"
"For a month or more, I think," interrupted Shal. "I don't think I can do it."
Tarl reached out and gently helped her to her feet. "Take your time," he said.
Still shaky, Shal slowly walked over and patted Cerulean. "I don't think I'd have come through that without you, big fella. Thanks."
Cerulean stamped one hoof but kept his thoughts to himself until Shal held out the Cloth of Many Pockets.
I'll stay right here, thank you! Cerulean sniffed.
"No, please. I have an idea. I know I don't have the strength to teleport all of us to the island, but I believe I can teleport myself."
"You can't go out there alone!" Ren and Tarl spoke as one.
"Shush." Shal waved her hand at the two. "Cerulean, you have to tell me something. Are you able to go in the cloth because you're magical, or can anybody do it?"
It has nothing to do with me, Mistress, though it does take a certain amount of concentration.
"How's that?"
I could walk right up to that cloth and bump into it. Unless I was planning to go inside, I wouldn't. I have to kind of get myself prepared for it-mentally, I mean. I dislike going in there, so I always pretend I'm going to land so hard in there that I'll rip the pocket, and then I won't have to do it anymore. Do you follow me?
"Yes… and I think it'll work," Shal said aloud.
"What?" the two men exclaimed together.
"I don't have the energy to transport all three of us across the river, but if the two of you can get inside the cloth with Cerulean, I think I can fly myself over."
Cerulean folded his ears down against his head and pawed the ground thoughtfully. Since you put it that way… Tell the two gentlemen to observe me closely. Be sure to explain what I just told you about getting prepared mentally.
Without a sound, Cerulean leaped forward and poured into the cloth, where he immediately proceeded to expound on the virtues of a well-lit environment.
Tarl and Ren both looked at Shal skeptically as she repeated Cerulean's advice. Ren paused to collect his thoughts, then jumped toward Shal, but he stopped short before crashing into her, unconvinced that he could really pour himself into such a tiny space. Even Tarl, with his clerical skills, could not keep doubt from hindering his attempts to enter the cloth.
"Enough!" said Shal. "I don't know what I'll have left when I face Yarash, but I'm going to cast a Shrink spell."
Neither Ren nor Tarl had any opportunity to object. A moment later, they were mere fractions of their former size. A gigantic Shal stooped over, picked them up, and deposited them in the cloth. Another moment later, they were all on their way to the sorcerer's island with the aid of a Fly spell.
On the shore of the island, Shal pulled Tarl out. The Shrink spell wore off moments later, and he was back to original size and standing beside her. "Boy, it sure is black in there!" he exclaimed.
"So I've heard." Shal said Ren's name and reached for him, but nothing came within her grasp.
"Ren? Can you hear me?" Shal said excitedly. "Cerulean, is he in there with you?"
Suddenly the big man popped out of the cloth as if he had been shot from a gun. "By the gods, I've been to the Abyss and back! It's blacker than the Pit in there, and it's not all that easy to get out."
"Okay, okay! So it's dark in there. Can we get on with this?" Shal vowed silently to get Cerulean a lantern to take with him for future stays in the dark folds of the cloth.
To Ren's keen senses, the smells of lightning and charred cloth were still recognizable. Set flush with the pyramid and barely discernible even up close was a teleport platform. A smudged footprint was the only telltale sign that made the surface of the platform visible. Ren pointed the teleport surface out to Shal and Tarl, then explained, "This should take us to him."
They took position on the platform together, and immediately found themselves inside what they had to assume was the dark interior of the pyramid. An empty hallway stretched before them, but Yarash was nowhere in sight. "He's been here," said Ren, sniffing, his keen eyes darting from side to side. They walked the length of the long corridor, Ren as alert as a fox to any sight, smell, or sound. They passed doorway after doorway, but Ren didn't even pause. "There!" He pointed suddenly. "Another teleport platform!"
Ren led the way, and three teleports and a walk upstairs later, they came upon Yarash, sitting against the corner of a room filled with books and ledgers, obviously his personal study. His robes were seared to his body, and his flesh was horribly burned, but he was still able to summon another contingent of fish-men. With no water, the strange creatures gasped for air, their malformed gills heaving and collapsing with such effort it seemed they would drop, but instead they crowded forward as their counterparts had, threatening the adventurers with their bulk and poison spittle. This time, there were no surprises. Shal, Tarl, and Ren went straight for the creatures' oversized heads and gawking eyes. In moments, their flopping, twitching bodies and decapitated heads littered the floor. Shal knew the wizard's paltry effort signaled his defeat, but she did not anticipate his next move.
As the last of the creatures flopped and twitched on the floor in death, Yarash began to rant. "Killing my creations! All my research, gone! You can't carve my brain! You won't get my secrets! You'll never get my secrets!" And before they could reach him, he had disemboweled himself with his own dagger.
"Tyr and Tymorah!" Tarl pressed his hands against the spasming body to stop its grotesque twitching. "What do you suppose the sick fellow was thinking of?"
"It looks to me like the answer might be in those ledgers," said Ren. He wasted no time getting started on a search of the sorcerer's belongings. "Bloody divination!" he shouted as he rifled through one of the larger ledgers. "Look at these maps! He was going to try to contaminate the entire Moonsea and use those freaks of his to control things! He was sicker than-"