Porter was furious. This brief attack wasn't supposed to end like this. There was nothing here to fight! He wanted to retreat, but knew what would happen. Marcus would be furious if one of his leaders challenged his strategy.
The massive Death Gates were intact, magically reconstructed after Marcus's last attack. The doors were locked. Two quick spells popped them open with two loud thuds. Porter had made his decision.
"Alright, men! Let's charge in and see what we find. Ogres, trolls, advance! We're right behind you."
As thousands of pounds of monster flesh surged into the long tunnel, a telepathic message reached the men and wizards under the trap doors of the empty towers on both sides of Death Gates. A warrior-priest of Tyr swinging a glowing blue hammer was the first to leap out of the hidden trap door. Hundreds of warriors surged out of the hidden rooms, raining death on the monsters in the tunnel. Tarl's hammer seemed to take on a life of its own, striking on every swing and killing with every blow.
In his ecstasy, Marcus barely noticed the woman astride a magnificent horse riding toward him in the sky. The female and her mount were both bathed in a faint, violet glow. "Who dares come to spoil my victory?"
"I dare!" Shal screamed, "You stole my city and you have assaulted my people. Today, you die!"
She raised her arm, and a sparkling purple bolt of energy arced from her hand to strike Marcus.
It bounced away harmlessly.
"Tarnelth, whocsom, pellarz!" Marcus's voice boomed.
Gale-force winds buffeted Shal and her magical horse. Her hair and cloak whipped about, but the battering winds caused no real harm. The beast snorted, yet easily controlled its flight.
A flick of Shal's wrist created a dark purple mist under the nightmare's hooves. The swirling, turbulent vapor looked oily and deadly even to the Red Wizard. Marcus turned the nightmare and flew higher, thinking he would escape the mist. But the vapors followed as if they had a mind of their own.
A red fireball and a lightning bolt surged out of his hands toward Shal, whizzing past harmlessly.
The sorceress was shocked at his ability to cast two spells at once, but didn't show her surprise to the enemy. She told herself to investigate that talent later.
Through the winds that still buffeted her, Shal cast disintegration magic at the nightmare. The powerful spell turned the corrupt creature to dust. Marcus hadn't bothered to protect his mount against such spells. He began to sink into the purple mist beneath him.
A quick wave of his hand stopped his fall, and the wizard now hovered on wings of flame. He grimaced and shrieked the words of a new spell. Behind Shal, an inky spectral form took shape.
Expecting the worst, the sorceress took her best shot and cast her most powerful spell.
"I'm blind!" Marcus screamed in fear. "Gallen tor supto!"
Marcus vanished. In his panic, he had teleported himself back to the red tower.
The deadly purple fog dissipated harmlessly.
What had been a desperate moment for Phlan was turning in its favor. Shal had temporarily defeated Marcus, leaving the monsters, tree-minions, and hired soldiers without a leader. Brittle was busy following his own course of action.
The minions of Moander, once perfect warriors, were now snapping like dry kindling. Although tireless and deadly, they lacked intelligence. When ordered to scale the wall, they had succeeded with some effort. The entire army now stood between the outer and inner walls-walls coated with black, sticky oil. Now those same walls were set ablaze by the defenders of Phlan. The intense heat dried and cracked the protective ooze coating the trees, withered leaves, and ignited branches. As the mindless minions stood between the two walls, branches and trunks ignited, charred, and toppled.
A deafening clatter and rattling arose. Three hundred and one skeletons swinging huge axes in their bony hands rushed to the attack. The skeletons gave no thought to the fungus or poisons of the tree-monsters. They ignored the searing heat of the flaming walls; the stone-hard bones of their skeletal frames felt nothing. Every warrior chopped at the minions of Moander while the abominable tree-creatures mindlessly waited for orders that should have come, but never did.
Marcus had abandoned his troops, leaving them to die on the field. High in the red tower, the wizard's rantings, still magically enhanced, were punctuated only by the insults he hurled at the pit fiend. He ordered the fiend to restore his vision. The tower shook to its foundation, rattling the city of Phlan far below.
15
"That's the whole story. I found the pool hidden in a dark chamber in the red tower, and some horrid, evil entity spoke to me. I haven't been that terrified in ten years. I didn't think anything was capable of detecting me while under that spell. Now I won't rest until I learn what that gods-forsaken horror was."
The companions rode in silence for long minutes. All were stunned by Evaine's experience while under her spell. At every turn, it seemed that their mission became more mysterious and dangerous.
Evaine herself broke the silence. "Although we now know where the pool is hidden, we still don't know exactly where Phlan is. I sensed its energy, so I think we can assume it's near the tower. But we still have too many unanswered questions. For that reason, I propose we investigate the smaller cloud of darkness. I still think it's our best chance of learning enough to get through this bizarre quest alive."
The horses were trotting along at a quick pace, led through the dense woods by Ren and Stolen. They had purposely avoided the main roads to reduce any chance of being tracked. Ren called a sudden halt.
"We're certain the red tower conceals the pool of darkness. There's a good chance it hides Phlan as well. So at the risk of seeming insistent-why shouldn't we head toward the greater evil and clean it out?" Ren asked.
"Even if you insist, Ren, I won't follow you into the inky darkness surrounding the red tower. I'm not sure I'll come out of there alive a second time. Checking out the smaller evil only puts us a day off schedule." Evaine's voice revealed only composure and logic.
"My friends could be dead in another day! How can I take that chance? We have to get to the red tower soon! Who knows what horrors they might be facing?" Ren's face turned red as he tried to control his emotions. Stolen whinnied quietly.
"I know you're worried." Evaine turned to the others. "This is a tough decision. Since all our lives are at stake, I think we should put this to a vote. What say you?"
Andoralson spoke first. "I can see both sides of your arguments," he said. "Ren, I know you're concerned, but I think we should take a day and follow Evaine's instincts. Then, no matter what we find, we'll head for the red tower." The druid looked around, waiting for the others to respond.
Miltiades was next. "Tyr has given me a mission. How I accomplish that mission is part of his test. All successful military commanders understand that knowing the enemy's secrets can determine the outcome of a battle. I believe we should follow Evaine."
Talenthia was visibly torn over this decision. She wanted to side with Ren, but she was frightened. "I guess I have to agree with my cousin. Evaine hasn't led us astray yet, so if she wants to check out the other area, and it doesn't take too long, let's do it. I wouldn't want to charge into a trap like a pack of scared rabbits. Sorry, Ren." The druid guided her horse over near the ranger and slipped a trembling hand into his.
Gamaliel, in his favored cat form, was perched on a tree stump near Evaine, listening carefully. Without even asking, the group knew his vote.
Ren grasped Talenthia's hand tightly. His anguish was visible as he rubbed his forehead. "Alright. I guess I lose this one. Let's keep moving. We'll stop for a rest and something to eat in a few hours, then we'll ride hard until dark. At dawn, we'll move out again. I can only hope, for all our sakes, that this side trip works out for the best. Evaine, at our current pace, when do you think we'll reach our destination?"