After a few minutes, Joel felt his stomach drop out from under him, which he hoped meant the phoenix was landing and hadn't released Beshaba in midair. A moment later all sense of motion ceased.
The bard heard a man's voice, loud but muffled by the fabric of Beshaba's gown, order someone else, "Hurry, before she regains consciousness. Get her into the fusion chamber."
Something growled. Joel felt Beshaba being jostled about, then set down. There was the sound of wheels rolling on a wooden floor, and then the rolling gradually stopped.
The goddess stirred and moaned softly. Suddenly she gasped and leapt to her feet. Joel could feel her pacing about. He remained very still, unsure whether or not he wanted to draw attention to himself.
Beshaba screamed, "Show yourself, Lathander, you arrogant peacock! I know you're here."
There was no reply.
"I'll use my power to bring your puny realm collapsing about your head," Beshaba declared.
Still there was no reply.
"Rat," Beshaba muttered, and from the pocket of her gown, she drew Joel out by the scruff of his neck. Thought I'd forgotten about you, didn't you? No such luck for you, bard."
Joel looked around. He and Beshaba were alone in a stone-walled room with a single high window, covered with bars. Joel could see no door. Either they'd been shoved into the room through a magical portal that had now closed or the door was well hidden.
Upon one wall was a wheel of torture, painted in brilliant colors. In a far corner, beneath a chain fastened to the wall, Joel saw an urn, a scepter, and a pile of what looked like human bones. Otherwise the room was bare.
Beshaba motioned with her fingers, and Joel felt his body stretch and contort until he had transformed back into a man.
"Thank you, my lady," he said, anxious to let the goddess know he was grateful she had not destroyed him when she had the chance.
Mercy was not on Beshaba's mind, however. With her godly strength, she slammed him against the wheel of torture and forced his arms and then his legs into manacles fastened to the wheel.
"Now we will discuss why I was brought here," the goddess said, stepping back from the wheel.
"I assure you, my lady, I have no idea," Joel insisted.
"The paladin was your companion. She signaled for the phoenix to come. Do you expect me to believe that you knew nothing of her plans?"
'It's true, my lady," the bard said. He chose his words carefully, aware that each one might be his last. "Lord Finder told me to escort you to the spire. Lord Lathander must have given Holly other instructions."
Beshaba pulled out her dagger and hurled it at Joel. It buried itself deep in the wood of the wheel, inches from the bard's face. "Do you know where we are?" she asked.
"I was in your pocket when we arrived, my lady. I did not see where the phoenix landed."
Beshaba stepped forward to retrieve her dagger.
"This room is like the dungeon in the Blood Tor, but there is no door," Beshaba said. "Why was I brought here?" she demanded, holding her dagger at Joel's throat.
Joel took a deep breath, trying to control himself. "I do not know, my lady."
Beshaba gave the wheel a nudge and it began to spin. Joel felt his stomach churn as he was turned upside down, then right side up once more.
"I am not very talented at throwing daggers," Beshaba said. "I hope you're feeling lucky, bard." She stepped back and tossed her dagger once more. It landed beside Joel's wrist, close enough to nick his flesh.
"What is Lathander's purpose?"
"Lady Beshaba, you accomplish nothing with this petty game," Joel retorted, barely managing to keep his tone civil as his stomach churned from the motion of the wheel.
"Petty game?" Beshaba growled. She stepped forward and grabbed at her dagger, stopping the wheel's spinning. "It is not I playing petty games, but Xvim and Lathander and Finder. My power leaks from my very being. It is being sucked away. Do you know what that feels like, bard? Perhaps when you come closer to kissing death you will understand. Now, tell me what you know."
"I don't know anything," Joel declared again. "Finder isn't involved. I don't know what Xvim's or Lathander's plans are."
Beshaba snapped her fingers, and a double-pronged goad and a barb-tipped scourge appeared in her hands. "For some reason, I feel less weak now, and when I use my powers, it does not leak into the earth. What has changed? Why has some of my strength been returned to me?"
"I don't know, my lady."
Beshaba lashed out with the barbed scourge, striking Joel about the shoulders and chest and tearing his shirt and tunic. Large welts appeared on his upper arms. Joel gasped with the pain.
"Lady Beshaba, I could lie and start making up things," the bard said, "but it wouldn't help you learn what your enemies have planned."
Beshaba blew on the goad, and it glowed as if it had been heated in coals. "I would be interested in the lies you tell, bard. For in every lie, they say, is a grain of truth."
"I don't know anything," Joel whispered, closing his eyes at the sight of the heated goad.
"Beshaba!" a woman's voice shouted. "Leave the mortal be."
Joel opened his eyes with surprise. Tymora stood in a doorway that had appeared out of nowhere. The bard allowed himself a silent sigh of relief. Lady Luck held a long sword, much like the one Winnie had given to Jas. The goddess of good luck stepped forward, gracefully blocking Beshaba from the bard.
"Is it not enough that your treachery has weakened me and all my faithful on Toril? Now you must torment a priest of a new godling. To what end, Beshaba?"
"My treachery?" Beshaba shrieked, jabbing her heated goad at Tymora's face. Lady Luck parried the attack with her sword, and streaks of lightninglike energy sparked off the surface of her blade.
"It is your allies who betrayed me," Beshaba snarled. "They brought me to this place. When I reached out and sensed it was your power draining me, I did not believe it. Like a fool, I thought you to be incapable of such treachery. But you and those peacocks, Lathander and Finder, have allied with Xvim."
Beshaba lashed out with her scourge at Tymora's legs, but Tymora leapt aside gracefully.
"That's preposterous," Tymora declared, slicing at the scourge with her sword. Beshaba twisted her body and blocked the blow with her goad. More bolts of energy flashed off the tip of Tymora's blade.
"When I reached out, I sensed it was your power draining me. "I have been your prisoner here for days."
"You lie!" Beshaba snarled. "I do not even know where 'here' is."
Joel decided it was time to speak up. "While I don't really know for sure," the bard said, "if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say we were somewhere in Elysium, since that's where Lathander's realm is."
"Yes!" Beshaba declared, slashing and smashing furiously at Tymora with both weapons. "Now this slave speaks the truth."
With amazing reflexes, Tymora blocked each of Beshaba's attacks. "You have addled the mortal's brain with your tortures," Lady Luck insisted. "He does not know what he is saying."
"Speak more truth, slave," Beshaba shouted and threw her goad like a spear over Tymora's head. The goad's prongs struck Joel's right thigh, piercing and searing his flesh at the same time. Joel struggled to fight back the pain.
Tymora slammed her body into Beshaba's, knocking her farther away from Joel. Lady Luck got her foot caught in a strand of Beshaba's goad and tripped, but she fell into Beshaba with her full weight. Both goddesses fell to the floor in a tangle of thrashing arms and legs. Beshaba squeezed at Tymora's throat with her free hand.
Joel recovered some of his senses and realized he must convince both goddesses that they were both victims or this struggle could go on endlessly.