But then with a last effort of his reptile will, he choked all that away, constricted the mental passages it flowed through, that sequence of images, and his mind went dark. Those processes of the brain and heart were what the creature fed on, and Haggar felt its grip loosen, its probing tentacle release its hold. Instead of struggling, he forced himself to relax, to welcome the touch of the jailer’s hand upon his face. And the more he welcomed it, the more he emptied his mind of panic and regret, the weaker and less sure was its grasp, while at the same time he was climbing downward into a new reality, in which he stood in his wolf’s form at the edge of a rocky, fetid pool under a blood red sky. Some kind of twisting mollusk was down there, a cephalopod with purple tentacles, and he stretched out his claws and ripped along its flabby, unprotected head.
He heard a scream, all the more horrifying for being silent and internal. He pulled back his paw. And then he found himself floating up through the spheres of illusion: the Living Gate with his naked body suspended underneath, watching the arm of the mind flayer suddenly retract and disappear, and the gate pucker closed. At that moment, as if the source of contagion was necessary for its life, the beholder shut its awful eye. And again at that same moment, Haggar found himself lying on his side among the mucus-covered rocks, his fur matted and greasy, his body aching and hurt. He licked at the air, and then after several panting breaths he stumbled to his four feet, and climbed and scratched his way out of the tunnel, to where Astriana sat among the stones, her armor coated with a glowing slime, her mace broken, her scimitar in her hand. Haggar crawled past Garm, the firbolg soldier, floating on his back, his face contorted in the rictus of death.
And then Astriana put her hand out and Haggar crawled under it, and allowed her to rub the soft fur of his forehead and around his ears. His tongue lolled out, and he licked her hands. She bent over him to put his face against her face, while he-not because he thought it was a good strategy, but out of simple exhaustion-allowed himself to find his natural shape again. His heavy head fell into her lap. She took her fingers from his hair, rolled him aside, and stood up hurriedly.
But later, after they had climbed back to the surface again, and after they had mounted the cage to the tower’s roof, and after he had washed himself in the sumptuous quarters she’d assigned to him, he stood in front of the window, looking up at the sun as it rose above the rim of the great well. He didn’t hear the door open, but he turned when she spoke. She wore a gown of green silk, open at the neck and throat, and her hair was loose around her head. “You know we are bound by our promises,” she said.
“Then promise me. I want you to take me home.”
Her head had fallen forward to accept his punishment. Now she raised her face to look at him. Her nose was crooked, and a scar ran down her cheek over her lips. “I promise,” she said.
“And this will be my promise,” he continued. “On the night of the full moon, I will wait for you, when the light strikes the surface of the water.”
With his back to the window he couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought he saw a blush pass over her cheek.
BLOOD OASIS
A TALE OF DARK SUN
Seawater moved against the hull planks like a lover’s whisper. The yellow sun of Athas was bright, and a westerly breeze stretched Horizon Finder’s sails, guiding the three-masted carrack toward the seaport of Arkhold.
Unexpected spray whipped up from the bow, and Jisanne laughed. She had untied her long brown hair, letting it blow loose and free. She drew a deep breath with a sense of wonder that these sailors did not feel. They didn’t understand how lucky they were to be there.
Captain Hurunn, a wealthy minotaur merchant with a large gold ring in one floppy ear, said, “A long voyage, a full cargo hold, even a net overloaded with fresh fish-time for me to settle down and enjoy my profits.” Even when he was in a good mood, Hurunn’s voice sounded like a gruff growl. From what little Jisanne knew from her brief previous visits to this glorious time, she doubted the minotaur captain would ever settle down.
With gentle reverence, she touched the opalescent crystal mounted to the compass stand. “The navigation crystal always finds its way back here.” She was never sure how clearly the ship’s captain and crew could see or hear her.
Hurunn snorted. “It’s what the navigation crystal is for-to guide its owner home. It’s a simple enough spell.”
Jisanne shuddered at his casual attitude, forcing herself to remember that these people did not automatically hate and fear magic users, regardless of whether they were defilers or preservers. Whatever disasters had robbed Athas of this beauty had not happened yet. The world was still fresh and alive, as it Athas had been before its possibilities were stolen.
Horizon Finder entered the mouth of the harbor and crewmen gathered on deck, waving at the numerous fishing boats, feluccas, and galleys. They were all eager to get back to port.
High above, the elf lookout yelled, his already-thin voice an even higher pitch. “To arms-sea serpent off the stern! It’s following us!”
As the crew scrambled to snag harpoons and bows, a fearsome triangular head rose up, streaming seawater from its golden scales. Its hinged jaw dropped open to reveal long fangs. A short distance away, a second monster rose up.
“That’s two sea serpents, not one,” Hurunn growled. “I need a better lookout for my next voyage.”
The pair of serpents glided toward Horizon Finder, intent on attack. Seeing the swollen net of still-squirming fish suspended by a rope and winch above the stern, Jisanne had a sudden realization. “The fish-the serpents want the fish.”
“Of course they want the fish. They always want the fish,” the minotaur said, not overly concerned. “I was hoping we’d make it all the way to Arkhold, but these waters are infested with cursed sea serpents. A small enough price to pay.”
With a deep bellow such as only a minotaur could manage, Hurunn commanded his sailors to swing the boom over the water. The sea serpents pressed closer to the dangling net, snapping at the spray in the carrack’s wake. “Dump the catch!”
As twitching fish rained down, the serpents frolicked in the water, greedily feasting. From the rails, the sailors jeered at the monsters, and Hurunn complained-out of habit-about the money he’d just lost. The breeze picked up, blowing the ship safely into port and leaving the sea serpents behind.
Ahead, Jisanne stared at the thriving city. The fortress of a forgotten order of ancient knights sat atop the highest point overlooking the blue harbor. People had gathered down at the docks to welcome the sailing ship. A few ambitious traders even took small boats out to meet Horizon Finder, hoping to strike a sweet deal with Captain Hurunn before he reached the quay.
The minotaur handed Jisanne a flask of wine. “Here, to celebrate. Myself, I don’t drink the stuff.” He snuffled through his bull nose. “Clogs my sinuses.”
She took a swig of the richest, headiest wine she had ever tasted. Everything seemed so unreal.
As the carrack tied up to a long stone quay, Jisanne saw the colorful market stalls full of fresh fruit. Musicians played instruments, their competing tunes a raucous clash of sounds. Jisanne took another drink of wine and glanced down at the pristine navigation crystal. Tears stung her eyes. She didn’t want to lose any of this, but she knew…
As the scene around her faded, the moist salty air in her nostrils became harsh, sour, and dry. The puffy clouds in the sky shimmered into high blowing dust. The skirling music and the babble of marketplace sounds turned into the moan of desert wind.