"You'll have to do better than that," he shouted, raising the iron scepter again. Its tip gleamed white with frost.
Melisanda pronounced a liquid string of words and gestured, pulling the iron scepter from Dalrioc's hand with a sharp wrench. The magical weapon arced high into the air and clattered to the ground a short way down the hall. Dalrioc cursed and started another spell, a dire enchantment that sent chills down Aeron's spine. Aeron began a spell of his own, but Dalrioc finished first this time, reaching out with his hand as if to crush Aeron's heart. Cold, strong fingers sank into his chest, ripping away his breath.
"Do you like my new spell, Aeron?" Dalrioc called. "You're not the only one who learned a few tricks over the past five years."
Melisanda started to call out another enchantment, but her voice faltered-she hadn't yet recovered from her long bondage, and the magic she sought was too difficult for her.
Aeron choked back a scream as he struggled, impaled on the intangible talons of Dalrioc's spell. He couldn't begin to develop any kind of counterspell, not while his mind was filled with the icy pain that shredded his chest. With a fierce effort of will, he pushed the pain to a distant part of his awareness and spoke a simple fetching spell. Down the hall, Dalrioc's iron scepter clattered across the floor and then flew up to Aeron's hand. In one smooth motion, he raised the weapon and barked out the word he'd heard Dalrioc use to trigger its powers.
The white beam of frost erupted from the rod's end, striking Dalrioc full in the torso. The Soorenaran wizard doubled over as his skin paled and gleaming ice coated his body. He teetered for a moment on the wall top before he lost his balance and fell awkwardly to the ground. Aeron sobbed in relief as the icy claw released his heart and faded, leaving a deep, cold ache in the center of his body.
Melisanda approached Dalrioc cautiously, ready to strike with a spell if necessary. The prince lay motionless on the ground. She turned him over carefully and stood a moment later, a fierce look on her face. "The frost or the fall killed him," she said.
Aeron nodded in acknowledgment and knelt by Baillegh. The hound stirred slowly. In a moment she shook herself and scrambled to her feet, moving gingerly. Aeron reached out to stroke her fur, ignoring the frost that covered her.
"Thanks, Baillegh. I'm sorry he hurt you." He looked to where Dalrioc sprawled on the ground. "He was never that strong back at the college," he said.
"It must be the Shadow Stone," Melisanda replied.
Aeron thought of Oriseus, waiting somewhere on the other side of the shadow door. "What do you suppose it can do for an archmage?" he asked bitterly. The effort of speaking brought a coarse, bloody cough to his tortured chest. He pushed himself to his feet. "Come on. We have to settle this."
Melisanda closed her eyes and nodded. "You're right. Lead the way, Aeron."
He studied the shadow door for a long moment, wondering if there was any way to find out what lay beyond. Well, there's always one way, he thought. Steeling himself, he squared his shoulders and stepped into the darkness.
Nineteen
Aeron emerged from the shadow door with Dalrioc's scepter held at the ready, but to his relief the chamber of the Shadow Stone was empty. The hateful artifact flickered and pulsated, illuminating the room with its eerie lambent glow. Keeping a wary eye on the umber archways ringing the vault, Aeron advanced to confront the stone.
Behind him, the shadows rippled once more, and Melisanda and Baillegh entered. The Vilhonese wizardess stood beside Aeron, gazing at the Stone. "I hate that thing," she whispered. "Can't you feel the way it pulls at you?"
"I came very close to succumbing to it the first time Oriseus led me to this room," Aeron said. "I had to draw on some of its power, its shadow-magic, to escape, and I've been marked by it ever since. It frightens me, too."
"Can you think of a way to destroy it?"
"I tried to attack the iron bands that frame it, but my spell failed. The stone absorbs magic, and even my most destructive enchantment simply drained away." Aeron crouched down, studying the inscription on the metal frame. "Telemachon told me that physical destruction was unlikely to prove effective, either. The moment I touch the stone, it will have me."
"So we can't destroy it by magic, and we can't destroy it by physical means," Melisanda said. "What does that leave?"
"I may have an idea," Aeron said. "Keep watch for a moment while I make a copy of this inscription." From a pouch at his side he produced a sheet of parchment and a quill pen. Carefully, he recorded the pattern of runes. It was not a lengthy inscription, probably no more than thirty or so words. "I'm done," he announced.
"What do you hope to do with that?" Melisanda asked.
"I think that the frame is the stone's vulnerability. If I can figure out what the inscription says, I'll have an idea of the purpose of the iron bands. And that might suggest a means to attack them."
The Vilhonese sorceress studied the dark archways lining the chamber. "Which of these leads back to the college, I wonder?" She turned in a slow circle, examining each. "I count ten portals, including the one we just stepped out of."
"I'd guess that six of the nine that are left would transport us to other shrines," Aeron mused. "I suppose we'll have to take our chances. It stands to reason that Oriseus would build at least one portal from the college to this place, for convenience if nothing else." Rooting through the pouch at his hip, he found a small piece of chalk and stepped over to the umber archway they'd emerged from. He made a small mark on the floor to identify it, and moved to face the next portal to the left. "Ready?"
Holding Dalrioc's scepter at the ready, Aeron stepped through. His stomach dropped away alarmingly, and he found himself standing in a stone shrine much like the one he'd just left. At first he thought that he'd made a mistake and returned to the place where he'd been imprisoned, but this one was subtly different; there was a reddish hue to the rock, and as he glanced above the walls at the horizon beyond, Aeron thought he could see dark treetops.
"Same arrangement, different place," Melisanda observed. "Should we try to help the mages caught here?"
Aeron hesitated. "Time may be crucial, but it wouldn't hurt to have an ally. Let's see if anyone here is able to help us." They circled the seven-sided structure, but all the mages there were trapped in the stone.
"Maybe we'll have better luck on the next one." Aeron plunged into the darkness again, and found himself back in the chamber of the Shadow Stone. The sinister light hurt his eyes, and he could almost hear a high-pitched whining or vibration that seemed to resonate in his bones. Gritting his teeth against the sound, he marked that door too and moved on to the next. "Let's try it again," he said, pushing into the dense web of gloom.
This time, Aeron found himself standing on a windswept hilltop by a vast white-frothed lake. The waves thundered and crashed below him, and he could taste rain in the air. "Where in Faerun-?" he began, quickly turning about to see what else was near.
The hill overlooked a great city about a mile away, barely visible through the fog and murk. Fires burned here and there within its walls, and a powerful fortress watched over the city like a brooding giant. They weren't in the Shadow any longer; the unnatural chill and sense of wrongness that pervaded the other plane were absent.
Melisanda stepped out of thin air behind him, followed by Baillegh. A large slab of stone marked with a string of Madryoch's old runes served as the base for the portal, and Aeron recognized it as the same stone through which he'd first entered the plane of shadow. Apparently, Oriseus had moved it and modified it to create its portal as needed.