"And when was that?"
"A month after the gods ascended to the heavens again," said Sarafina. "He'd become the monster you see now. Somehow, though, he'd come to believe that he was more handsome than ever. He still believes that."
"This is all very interesting, but there's nothing in what you've said that convinces me Lady Mystra is powerless to help us," Adon said, already puffing from the exertion of carrying Corene up the steep slope.
"I haven't finished," Sarafina replied. Unlike the cleric, she showed no strain at carrying her heavy burden. "After the fog lifted, Gorgias cursed the gods for harming his people and for letting magic become unstable. He cast a spell over the village to hide us from the heavens. We were safe from the gods-but they could no longer hear our pleas. It was as if Tegea had died to them." She paused and turned sad eyes to Adon. "We had a church of Chauntea here, but the priests found they could no longer commune with the Great Mother. They lost their status in Tegea, so they left. When our crops didn't suffer for their leaving, Gorgias said it was only more proof that gods held nothing for us."
"And what did it prove for you?" Adon asked softly.
"That the clerics mustn't have been very holy." She sighed mournfully, making her veil flutter. "They were only interested in being important people in the village. A few other wandering priests have been through here, but they leave when they discover they're cut off from their gods."
"But Corene cast spells to protect the village. You saw her cover Broka's face with boils," Adon noted. "And I summoned that pillar of fire to strike down the duke."
"It's true," Sarafina admitted, "you and Corene are the only clerics who have been able to call upon your goddess for even the most minor magic, but…"
"Go on," Adon prompted kindly.
"Forgive me, Patriarch, but your flames did nothing to the duke." She looked down at the misshapen woman in Adon's arms. "And Lady Corene's magic couldn't save me-or save herself from a fate worse than mine."
Adon stopped walking. "You just might be right," he said softly. "The duke's spell may make it difficult for Mystra to answer our prayers, but I can't give up."
The patriarch laid Corene on the ground and tried again to dispel the magic that had turned her into such a hideous thing. This time, though, Adon prayed only for Corene to be healed, with no thoughts of his own part in bringing her to this sorry state.
The novice's body began to glow with a greenish aura and was quickly swaddled in swirling lights that obscured her from view. For several moments, Adon waited in silent anticipation. When the radiance finally died away, he saw that his spell had worked, more or less. Corene's body had returned to normal, but her face remained disfigured.
Corene returned to her feet, staring at her arms and legs as if seeing them for the first time. "You've saved me!"
"Not entirely," said Sarafina, pointing timidly to her face. "But it will make your journey easier."
"What journey?" Adon demanded. "We're staying. You've seen that I can undo the duke's magic."
"And what of her face?" countered Sarafina, reaching down to stroke the white fleece hanging off Corene's chin. "Her curse isn't so different from mine. You haven't rid her of that."
"If it's the only way I can prove to you I'm right and you should have faith in Mystra, I shall," Adon said.
A yellow glow spread from Adon's hand to engulf the novice's head. For a moment, her features seemed to soften and the hideous lumps began to recede. Then, just as Adon was certain of his victory, a gray shadow started to creep back over Corene's face.
As the lumps began to rise again, Corene backed away, breaking contact with Adon. "Stop, before it affects you too!"
Adon closed his hand and hung his head. "It won't work until Mystra can hear our prayers," he said. 'The duke's curse makes his magic stronger than any I can cast while cut off from Our Lady."
"The only true faith that exists in this village is that which Lord Gorgias places in himself, and it's clear that you're not powerful enough to overcome that on your own," Sarafina said. "You must honor your promise and leave."
Adon did not answer for several moments. Finally he said, "Perhaps you're the one who will have to honor her promise, Sarafina."
The innkeeper's daughter frowned. "What do you mean?"
Adon turned to Corene. "I assume you've studied the spell of true sight recently?"
"Of course, but-"
"Good," Adon said. He looked back to Sarafina and smiled. "I hope there's a mirror in your father's inn."
* * * * *
As it turned out, Sarafina had an ideal mirror. It was just large enough to cover Adon's forearm like a small buckler, yet small enough to support with one hand.
Holding it as though it were a shield, the patriarch stood before the oaken gates of Castle Gorgias, his mace held firmly before him. At his side stood Sarafina, her veil fluttering in the warm breeze. Behind them, waiting at the edge of the cobblestone street, were Corene and Myron. The innkeeper did not approve of Adon's plan, but, at his daughter's insistence, had reluctantly agreed to go along.
Broka's pocked face appeared in the window of the gatehouse. "You still have time to leave, cleric," be cried, peering at the blazing sun. "It's not quite highsun."
"I've come to challenge your ugly master for Sarafina's hand," Adon called. "If he's not too much of a coward, he might win himself a wife this day."
Broka raised a brow at Sarafina. "Is this so?"
"It is," she answered. "If Lord Gorgias wins this combat, my father will offer my hand to him."
She had barely finished speaking before the castle gates crashed open. Lord Gorgias scuttled into the street and glanced at the mirror on Aden's arm. "Do you really think that will protect you?" he snickered.
"You can't hit what you can't see," the cleric answered.
He angled the mirror so that it reflected the sun's brilliant rays into his opponent's eyes and rushed forward. Sarafina fled to her father's side.
"This will be a short combat," the duke promised, his fingers already working to cast a spell. He pointed at the patriarch, his deep voice growling his spell. When his gaze fell on the mirror's silvery surface, though, he stumbled over the syllables of his incantation.
Taking advantage of his enemy's blunder, Adon lashed out at Lord Gorgias. The blow struck him in the head, knocking him senseless. It also made the duke's spell misfire; a black beam shot into the wall of the gatehouse. Amid the clatter of broken stones and crumbling masonry, Broka's death scream rang out as the tower collapsed around him.
Adon thrust his shield toward Lord Gorgias's face. 'Take a good look, hideous duke," he said. "This is your true self-inside and out!"
The duke turned away. "That's not me!" he growled, lashing out. "It's an illusion!"
Adon ducked, then moved around to keep the mirror in front of Lord Gorgias. "You're the one who has been casting illusions, but you've fooled yourself and no one else!"
Lord Gorgias snapped a foot out, catching Adon in the ribs. The cleric stumbled several steps backward before finally falling to the ground. He clutched the mirror to his chest and struggled to draw a breath.
The duke pointed in Sarafina's direction. 'Tonight, you sleep in my bed!" he said, his tusks gnashing in fury.
Adon leaped to his feet and moved forward warily. "The only enchantment on this mirror is a spell of true sight," Adon said, thrusting the silvered glass toward Lord Gorgias's face. "Look!"
The duke peered into the mirror for barely an instant, then whipped his head around so that he would not have to see himself. Adon sprang forward, swinging his mace again and again. Lord Gorgias gasped in pain and a bloody welt rose each time the weapon struck, though any one blow would have killed most normal men.
The duke tried to strike back, flailing his arms and legs about blindly. He landed only glancing blows that bounced harmlessly off Adon's armor. Several times, Lord Gorgias tried to look at the patriarch, but he always glanced away when he saw his own image. Twice, he lashed out at the mirror itself, but the cleric was ready for this tactic and knocked the hand aside with a sharp blow of his mace.