Sirana snapped her astral fingers. Light flared into existence all around her, revealing a huge cavern. She stood at the edge of what appeared to be an underground lake. Its surface was a dull, steely color, its waters strangely thick and turgid. But then, this was no ordinary pool. It was a pool of twilight, a source of powerful and forbidding magic.
"Why have you dared to attack me?" Sirana demanded.
Something stirred beneath the leaden waters of the pool.
The guardian.
You promised that you would free me if I granted you power! A wheedling note had entered into the guardian's voice. I have kept my end of the bargain, wizard. Now your turn has come. Release me!
Sirana considered her reply carefully. She didn't have the slightest idea what the true nature was of the creature trapped within the pool, but she did know that it was treacherous and deadly. It had nearly slain her the day she had finally located the pool after years of searching. Yet Sirana was nothing if not cunning. She had adopted a sympathetic tone with the guardian of the pool, that day months ago. Lonely after centuries of isolation, the guardian had listened to her soothing promises. She had struck a bargain with the creature. If the guardian infused her with magical energy from the pool, making her the most powerful wizard in Faerun, she would endeavor to free it from its watery prison.
Of course, Sirana had absolutely no intention of fulfilling her side of the bargain. The only way to free the guardian, she had learned, would be to trade places with it, and she was hardly going to condemn herself to such a fate once she had gained the hammer. No, she was destined to become a goddess! But the guardian need not know that. It must believe that she intended to liberate it. Otherwise, the guardian would never consent to help her carry out her grandiose ambitions.
"Of course we have an agreement," Sirana said finally, choosing her words carefully. "I have not forgotten that, even if you have."
But I have given you the power you asked for! The waters of the pool stirred sluggishly again. Bubbles rose to the surface, breaking slowly, like pox blisters on the skin of a victim.
"It is not enough!" Sirana clenched a fist, baring her white teeth. "You must give me strength enough to defeat my enemies. That is our pact."
But you are battling foes greater than you can imagine, the guardian protested. Throughout the centuries, I have sent my own minions to wipe that wretched city of Phlan off the face of Toril, and each time my hordes have been defeated! Always the people of Phlan seem to find some blasted hero to come to their rescue. Always! You cannot let them find the Hammer of Tyr. If the hammer returns to Phlan, the city will be protected for all time, and neither of us will have our glorious revenge!
"Leave Phlan and the hammer to me," Sirana snapped. "That is none of your concern. Now grant me more of the pool's power, or-"
Or what?
"Or suffer the consequences."
Chanting a harsh incantation, Sirana pointed a finger at the stalactite-covered ceiling high above. Abruptly, one of the massive limestone stalactites broke free. Glowing red-hot, it plunged into the pool. The dusky waters closed around it without so much as a splash or sizzle. But a cry of pain rose into the air of the cavern.
She continued her chant. Another molten stalactite plunged into the pool, then another, and another. Each of them sank below the surface without a sound, but Sirana knew they were striking the unknown creature concealed below, burning into its flesh.
No more, wizard! Please, stop!
Sirana chanted on. A veritable rain of searing stalactites cascaded down on the pool.
Ibeg you, wizard! Please! You shall have what you seek!
This last was little more than a guttural whisper. Sirana halted her chanting. The molten rain of stone ended.
"That's better," she murmured condescendingly.
A small glass vial rose up out of the pool, separating itself from the thick fluid with a sucking sound.
Drink of this, wizard, and you shall have the power you seek.
Sirana closed her astral fingers around the vial. "I knew you would come to your senses, guardian," she said. With a flick of her wrist she transported the vial back to her spellcasting chamber. "I trust you will not try anything so foolish again. I will free you when I have gained my revenge, and not a moment before. Is that clear?"
Exceedingly clear, wizard.
Sirana smiled, an expression of sublime evil. "Good. I'm so glad we understand each other." Without another word she dispatched her astral body. It soared up out of the chamber and back toward Phlan.
If Sirana had stayed just a moment more, she might have noticed several bubbles rising to the dull surface of the pool, breaking with a thick, wet noise that sounded uncannily like laughter.
Once more Sirana reclined on the black velvet lounge in her private chamber. It was verging on midnight, and she was weary. Astral travel was terribly draining, and the confrontation with the guardian of the pool had consumed most of her considerable reserves of strength. But she could not rest, not if she was going to find that damnable Hammer of Tyr.
She gazed at the vial in her hand. Faint sparkles of light seemed to drift through the thick, metallic-looking fluid within. She briefly considered summoning Hoag. The guardian of the pool could have given her the vial as a trick; it might be poisonous. To find out, she could command the hamatula to taste it. But she didn't want to take the risk of giving the fiend greater power. "Let's be done with it," she said finally.
She lifted the vial to her lips and drank down the oddly warm, steely tasting liquid.
Fire coursed through her veins.
Choking in pain, Sirana fell from the lounge. Her perfect alabaster flesh darkened in hue, becoming a rich bronze color. Two flecks of silvery light ignited in her dark eyes. Writhing on the floor, she swore. What a dolt! She should have suspected a trick. She should have readied a spell of transference so that she could escape this now-doomed body to possess another.
"I cannot die like this!" she croaked, her face twisted in agony. "Not yet!"
Suddenly, the pain vanished.
It was as if she had been plunged into a vat of cool, dark water. Slowly, Sirana pulled herself to her feet, gasping. The darkened chamber seemed to have been transformed. Where before there had been mere shadows, now there was layer upon layer of scintillating darkness. She spun about. Everywhere she looked she saw shades of jet, onyx, and ebony. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
A realization struck her. It was not the room that had changed, but her eyes! Darkness was no longer a barrier to her vision. Now she could see and touch the very fabric of night. This was a gift indeed. She reached out and stroked the silken darkness, gathering it about her like a cloak.
"What is this?" she murmured.
She touched a strange, glistening thread of darkness hovering before her. It was a thread of summoning, she realized. She had used such magical tendrils to call fiends to her many times before, but those threads had always been silvery, shimmering with life energy. This thread was wonderfully black. What type of creature could it possibly belong to? She tugged at the thread, willing whatever existed on the other end to hasten to her side.
"Who dares?" a thin, dusty voice whispered.
"I command you to appear," Sirana ordered. She stepped into the protective center of her summoning symbol and pulled harder on the black thread.