"Who's there?" it asked.
"It's me, Eb. Tazi."
At the mention of her name, Ebeian's eyes became more focused beneath the enchanted shimmer that coalesced over his face and remains.
"Where are you?" he asked, unable to turn his head. "I can't see you."
Tazi moved closer to his bed and after a moment's hesitation sat down where she had been keeping vigil a few hours earlier. She reached out and touched his face.
"I'm here," she told him, looking straight into his green eyes.
Steorf stepped closer to her and whispered in her ear, "Hurry, Thazienne, we don't know how much time you have with it."
Tazi was still angered that Steorf kept referring to Ebeian as "it," but she also realized he was right.
"Who did this to you, Eb?"
Ebeian seemed surprised by her question.
"You're the one who's done this to me."
Tazi was at first shocked and puzzled by his response. Steorf recognized her confusion.
"When you ask a question, the corpse takes it literally. The answer was correct. You are the reason the corpse is reanimated. You must be very exact," he explained.
She gave him a quick nod and said, "Ebeian, who killed you?"
"It was Ciredor," he stated simply.
The silence in the room was deafening.
Tazi's blood turned sluggish in her veins at the mention of that name. Her senses threatened to reel out of control and yet a part of her had known since she first saw Ebeian's body that there was no one else who could have done this. She felt Steorf place both his hands on her shoulders and, for the moment, was grateful for the contact. It was the only way she knew she was really there.
"Ciredor is here?" she asked, still finding it hard to believe that the dark mage was back in her life.
"I don't see him," Ebeian answered, trying to turn his head with his partially severed neck.
"Remember, ask carefully as he takes your questions literally," Steorf reminded her gently. "I know it's hard," he added, and still he held on to her.
"How did you come to clash with Ciredor?"
Ebeian looked her in the eyes and answered, "Because of you, Thazienne."
Tazi could feel the sharp stab of tears but bit back on them.
"What did I have to do with it?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"I went to the Soargyls' mansion to steal you a pretty to make you smile. Ciredor was there with Lord Rorsin, and he was trying to sell a fragment of your soul to the young Soargyl. I freed that part of you, and he killed me because I was useful to him."
The elf's voice was almost emotionless.
"How could Ciredor have a part of my soul?" Tazi whispered, more to herself than Ebeian's body, but the elf answered, nonetheless.
"I heard him tell Rorsin that he disguised himself as a priest when you were hurt last year. Instead of healing you, the disguised Ciredor took that part of your soul that was lingering around you."
"When did this encounter between you two happen?" she asked cautiously.
"At the beginning of Marpenoth," the corpse replied.
Tazi was flabbergasted. The beginning of Marpenoth was when she had awakened feeling refreshed, more like her old self than she had since her injury. That was a tenday past.
"I knew I felt something," she mumbled.
"What?" Steorf demanded.
Tazi reached up and placed her left hand on his, which still rested on her shoulder. Without looking back at him, she told Steorf, "I'll explain it to you later."
The glow surrounding Ebeian's corpse began to flicker.
"You've got to be quick," the cleric urged. "I'm losing him. Something is fighting me, and I don't think it's him."
Tazi was fairly certain who was responsible for the interference. Her mind raced to ask the right questions while she struggled with the fear that was just below the surface.
"Why did Ciredor need you?"
"He told me, right before he killed me that he was collecting complete souls for a ritual he has planned in Calimport. Mine fit into his plans because of who I worship."
"Has he gone back to Calimport?" Tazi questioned.
She realized that a tenday had passed since Ebeian was attacked and she had not heard or seen anything having to do with Ciredor. He must have returned to Calimport or crawled into some other hole to hide. It was the only course that made sense.
"I don't know where he is," answered the elf.
"Thazienne," Steorf reminded her kindly, "Ebeian's body can only tell you what he knew when he was alive."
She turned back to look at him.
"This isn't Ebeian anymore," Steorf explained. He could see Tazi wanted to protest. "All this is now is a shell. Eb's soul has already passed on. The cleric simply reanimated Ebeian's body."
"Then what have I been talking to?" she asked.
"You've been able to access the memories that were imprinted in his body. Hurry now" he warned at the sight of Ebeian's flickering torso.
Tazi looked back at the elf's remains. In the glow of the spell, she had almost fooled herself into believing Ebeian had come back to life. The more she had questioned him, the more he'd responded like his old self. Even understanding what she was talking to, Tazi found it hard to believe it wasn't her friend any longer. The glow was fading.
"What does Ciredor plan to do with your soul?"
"The pain was very severe while he was killing me," Ebeian explained, "so I couldn't hear everything that he was telling me."
"What could you hear?" she implored, seeing the magical glow that surrounded him start to waver.
"He said my soul and the others were to be used for the 'Skulking God,' whoever that is."
The last few words were very hard to hear.
Trying to eke out every last bit of magic, Tazi leaned in and spoke one last question into Ebeian's pointed ear.
"Does he have all the souls he needs?"
She had to strain to hear his response.
"No," he whispered. "He still needs Fannah's."
Horror-struck, Tazi sat up as though a lightning bolt had passed through her body. She looked first at Steorf then to the cleric. The older man let out a grunt and collapsed onto the floor. She and Steorf rushed to his side. Tazi could tell that he was breathing, and Steorf began ministering to him immediately. In a few moments, the cleric started to come around, and Steorf guided him to a chair.
"I'm fine now," he assured Steorf and Tazi. "That was much more draining than I'd anticipated. I don't think I'll have the energy for my obligations on the fifteenth, but somehow I think Mystra will forgive me."
"It looked like you were struggling the whole time," Steorf observed.
"Something very strong was trying to prevent me from completing the spell. You,"-he turned to look at Tazi-"have a very powerful enemy."
Tazi, who had returned to sit by Ebeian, answered, "Yes, I do." She began to play with the emerald ring on her left hand. "I've faced him before and won, though. I can do it again if I have to."
But her voice lacked conviction even to her own ears.
Steorf, assured that the cleric had recovered, moved to stand near Tazi again.
"I didn't see any of this," he offered. "Not Ciredor's hand, not Fannah's part in it…" he trailed away. When she didn't say anything, he tried once more. "What do you want to do now?"
Tazi stroked Ebeian's face.
"I wish I could've asked him one more thing," she whispered, "but I wasted that."
The glow was gone from his body, and Tazi could see that all that was left of him was a shell. Ebeian was gone forever, his soul stolen away. She got up and faced Steorf.
"What would've been that last thing?" he asked her.
Tazi just shook her head.
"I've lost him, but I'll be damned if I let that bastard take Fannah, too."