"Why?" Melann asked. "Why did it do all of this? What is it?"
"I don't know," Vheod said, looking at the tattoo.
"Can you get rid of it somehow? Can you use magic? Can you cut it off?"
"In the first battle with the giant ravens, the flesh where it rested was slashed, but it didn't affect the Taint."
Melann grew quiet, obviously overwhelmed by the situation. Vheod couldn't blame her.
Finally, she said, "Is Chare'en-the demon-imprisoned here like you said?" She paused, and knelt down to look at an individual green stone. "If so, why are we here? Does that mean everything we've been told, and all we've relied on to save our parents and possibly ourselves, has been a He?" She stood again. "Perhaps." Vheod lowered his head. "If you even so much as suspected this, why did you come at all?"
"If it wasn't true, then you might come here and free Chare'en accidentally. I thought you might need my help." He looked back up at her.
"By the Mother of All," Melann said, "it's my fault." "No, it's not. Don't you see? Even if everything I feared was true-I still had to come here. I need to know who's controlling my life. If Chare'en-my own fiendish ancestor-is here, then it's not only my responsibility to make sure he doesn't cause any harm, but it's also imperative I come here to prove that even if forces have manipulated to bring me here to free him, I won't do it.
"I am my own man. I have to prove that-at least to myself."
"I understand," Melann said after a moment, "out there's such a risk."
Vheod's shoulders fell. He shut his eyes.
"No," Melann said. "I didn't mean that. I have faith in you, Vheod. You can do it."
Whitlock suddenly returned, though Vheod hadn't noticed he'd left. "I looked ahead-the passage continues beyond this chamber. It leads fairly far into the mountain, and I'm pretty sure I heard something moving around up there. I think we should probably check it out. Besides,"-he looked back the way they'd come-"there's no way to tell if and when the gnolls or that guardian statue might show up at our backs."
Melann looked to Vheod and nodded solemnly, with a smile of support. "Let's go check it out," she said.
Vheod arched his back, thrusting his chest ahead of him. He took a deep breath. "Yes," he said quietly, "let's go."
The passage was indeed long, and the temperature dropped slightly with each step down its length. Ahead of them they saw light and heard movement. They continued without discussion.
At the corridor's end, a huge set of brass doors barred the way. Runes, glyphs, and other symbols covered the entire surface of both doors. Four figures stood before the portals, obviously attempting to open them. As Vheod, Whitlock, and Melann approached, three turned to face them while the largest among them continued to work at the doors, thrusting his weight into pushing one open.
The figures were human men, each brandishing a short sword, a dagger, or a long, curved knife. Two held well-burnt torches high above their heads. They glowered silently as Vheod and the others approached. Their eyes showed only malice. "Hello," Melann said tentatively.
Whitlock and Vheod both tightly gripped their already drawn swords. No response came. The three of them stopped about twenty feet away from the doors, the menacing figures in front of them.
Finally, the large figure turned toward them. Vheod recognized him, as did "Whitlock and Melann, judging by the looks on their faces. But then, of course they did, Vheod realized.
The man was Orrag.
Chapter Nineteen
"I was wondering when you would get here," Orrag said with an evil grin. "I was starting to worry."
"What are you doing here?" Vheod demanded, pointing at Orrag with the short sword.
Tm here for the same reason you are, friend," the half-orc said to Vheod, never dropping his toothy smile for a moment. "To free your ancestor, the great and powerful Chare'en, Lord of the Seven
Vengeances."
Vheod had never heard that title before. How had Orrag? He felt Melann and Whitlock's gazes fall on him, but he didn't turn from the villainous half-orc. Tm here for just the opposite reason, as you well know," Vheod said. "Was everything you told me in Tilverton a lie?"
"Of course not," Orrag replied with his phlegmy, rough voice. "If it had all been a lie you never would've found your way here."
"Listen, you," Whitlock interrupted, "I don't know what sort of game you're playing, but we won't be your pawns. Why did you give us directions to this place if you knew it wasn't really what we were looking for. We sought the crypt of an old wizard-not a demon's prison."
"Simpleton," Orrag said. "You'll die not knowing."
The four men who stood around Orrag tensed. Two of them took menacing steps forward but stopped when they saw their leader made no hostile moves. Orrag continued to smile.
"Why all the elaborate deceptions?" Vheod asked and lowered his sword.
"Only you can free him, Vheod. I may be a devout servant, but the spells that imprison him can only be broken by a blood relation. Braendysh, the wizard who created this prison, saw to it." Orrag drew forth a long, curved scimitar from his belt, still grinning.
"I was so sure that Chauntea led us here," Melann whispered. "I was so sure."
Orrag spoke. "Now, Vheod, join me in opening these doors, and let's finish what has been started."
"If you think," Vheod retorted without hesitation, "that for one moment I might consider joining you in your sick plans, you're as dim-witted as you look.'"
"Vheod," Orrag said, still smiling, "this is your destiny. Don't fool yourself." The smile faded. "This is who you are."
"Never!" Vheod suddenly launched himself at Orrag, with sword in hand and denial as a battle cry.
Melann's world crumbled around her as surely as if the stone of the walls tumbled down around them all. How could she have been so wrong? The whole thing-the whole quest that she and her brother had undertaken-was a lie. It had all been a trick from the beginning. She'd told herself that Chauntea wanted her to undertake this journey, and as proof to her self she observed how everything seemed to work so well to lead her down this path. Now she saw that she'd been fooled as much as Vheod. She wondered if Vheod, like she, had been the primary instrument in his own deception.
Poor Vheod. She'd only helped his enemies in maneuvering him into this situation. Now he fought not only for his life but for his very soul. With every movement he must be questioning himself, she realized. She'd told him that she had faith in him, and it was true. Despite all reason, she truly believed that in the struggle against his own evil nature he was strong enough to win. That didn't mean it was going to be easy for him-nor did it mean he might not be killed if he wouldn't submit.
Melann had faith in Vheod but not in herself. While she never doubted Chauntea's power, she certainly doubted her own ability to devote all of her time and attention to the Mother of All's causes. She had become caught up in this personal mission to come here and find something to assuage the curse that plagued her family. Now that obsession with her personal goals had brought everything to ruin. There was no magical staff to remove the curse, there was only some demonic creature about to be loosed on the world.
Vheod had, at first, seemingly caught Orrag off guard with his attack. Though he seemed as surprised as the half-orc by Vheod's actions, Whitlock appeared more than happy to leap into the fray and help. Orrag and his followers outnumbered the two warriors- they needed her help. Melann reached through the cloud of despair that surrounded her and grabbed the wooden amulet bearing Chauntea's symbol.
No. She couldn't bring herself to call on her goddess's power. Her hand dropped to her belt where she kept her mace. She drew it out and stepped forward to where Vheod and Whitlock already fought Orrag and his men. Vheod engaged Orrag directly, but the four thugs threatened to overwhelm her brother almost immediately.