shadows. Only the magic of the sequester spell seemed distinct or tangible.
Kelemvor took a step toward his lover. "Wait for Elminster to come back!"
"No, Kel," Adon said softly as he grabbed the fighter. "It's up to Midnight now. There's nothing we can do."
"It is a sequester spell that prevents us from seeing the door," Midnight noted, holding a hand over her left eye. Her voice was
low and distant, as if she had just awoken from a dream. The mage shivered. "I think I can open it now."
The mage reached for the wall. Kelemvor and Adon saw a doorway suddenly appear in the wall, then open. Pale light flooded
from the large room the heroes saw through the secret entrance.
"I see a lot of magical traps in there," Midnight noted dreamily. "Tenwealth has been very busy." The mage stepped into the
vault's antechamber.
Before anyone could react, the door slammed closed behind her.
The antechamber was a small room, no more than ten feet wide and ten feet long, lit by four bright globes that hung in the
corners. Midnight covered her right eye for a moment and looked around. There wasn't much for the mage to see, at least not with
her left eye. The room was completely barren, save for a huge mosaic of Torm's gauntlet embedded in the north wall and a large
diamond-shaped trap door in the center of the floor.
When Midnight looked out into the room with her right eye, though, she saw a vast web of spells hanging over the trap door and
snaking around the room. The spells hung like strands of silk from the ceiling and walls, intertwined and pulsing. The mage followed
the weave and pattern of a few of the simpler spells, for the wards all seemed to have slightly varying colors, and she easily identified
a few of them.
Tenwealth had ordered a number of spells to be placed on the door to protect whatever was hidden there from thieves. One
ward raised an alarm if the door was opened. Another caused a cloud of fog to appear, which would blanket the room and obscure
vision. A third spell was meant to keep the trap door magically locked. But when Midnight looked at the wizard lock spell through her
right eye, she smiled. Written in the weave of the magic was Tenwealth's password.
She followed the pattern of the wizard lock spell for a moment, just to make sure that it wasn't backed up by another spell. The
mage then discovered that a few of the other wards, including the alarm and cloud of fog spells, had actually been linked with the
wizard lock. Midnight realized that the password might disable the handful of spells that were connected to the lock - or set them all
off.
And not all the wards Tenwealth had placed on the trap door were as harmless as an alarm spell. Midnight recognized the
pattern of a spell meant to deafen the person who tripped it. Another set off a fire trap, causing a burst of flame to shoot from the
door. Worst of all, there was a feeblemind spell attached to the lock. If this was set off, it could wipe a spellcaster's mind clear,
lowering his or her intelligence to that of a moronic child until another powerful spell was cast to heal the wizard's mind.
The secret door from Tenwealth's chamber opened again, and Elminster poked his white-bearded head into the antechamber.
"What do ye think ye're doing? I said ye should find the door, not open it!"
As the old sage started to step into the room, Midnight saw the weave of a few of the spells tighten. "No," the raven-haired
mage cried. "Elminster, don't come in here. You'll set off Tenwealth's traps!"
Elminster froze and looked around the room. "What traps? I don't see any traps!" he sputtered.
"They're magical wards. I can see them hanging over the trap door," Midnight said without taking her eyes off the web of spells.
"Somehow, I can see the spells themselves."
Elminster arched a bushy eyebrow and ran a hand slowly through his long, white beard. "Ye can see the spells, ye say? Can ye
dispel them?"
Midnight swallowed hard. "I don't know," she said softly. "But I'm going to try." The mage paused for a moment then added,
"And I think you should wait in Tenwealth's chamber, with the door closed. If something happens and a spell... misfires, Kelemvor and
Adon will need your help to get the tablets."
"Can't we do something?" Kelemvor cried from the priest's room.
Midnight heard Elminster sigh. "She's right," the old sage said solemnly. "There's nothing for us to do but wait."
Kelemvor was cursing, and Midnight could picture him stomping around Tenwealth's room. Adon, on the other hand, stood
quietly by the door. "Good luck," the scarred cleric said softly. Then Elminster backed away from the secret door and Midnight heard it
close.
My luck's been pretty good with magic so far, the mage sighed to herself. None of the spells I've cast since magic became
unstable have backfired too badly. I haven't accidentally tossed a lightning bolt at a friend or lost an arm because of a spell misfiring.
Not yet, anyway.
The raven-haired mage took a deep breath and spoke the words that Tenwealth had set to disarm the wizard lock. "Duty above
all."
The web of spells tightened and quivered. The golden weave of the wizard lock spell glowed brightly for an instant, then the
spell was gone. Most of the other wards disappeared, too. After the strands had stopped flaring and vanishing, two spells still hung
over the entrance to the vault.
The remaining spells were incomplete, filled with gaps where other wards had been linked to them. Though the mage couldn't
identify one of the patterns, she did recognize the tendonous black strands that wove around the room. They were parts of the
feeblemind spell she had seen earlier.
After closing both her eyes and concentrating for a moment, Midnight called the incantation to dispel magic into her mind. The
mage knew that Tenwealth had probably paid a powerful wizard to cast the wards on the vault, so she should have little hope of
dispelling the magic. Still, she said a silent prayer to Lady Mystra - though she knew the Goddess of Magic couldn't hear the plea -
and cast her spell.
The green web that comprised the spell Midnight couldn't identify vanished instantly. However, the black coils of the feeblemind
spell quickly curled around the mage. "No!" she screamed, and in desperation repeated the incantation again. A flash of blue-white
light filled the room. The feeblemind spell was gone.
Midnight opened the diamond-shaped trap door. A set of iron handholds led down into a small chamber lit by two more magical
globes. The mage entered the vault and found herself surrounded by much of the wealth of Tantras's temples. Gold and platinum
plates, silver candlesticks, and finely wrought icons were piled in crates. A priceless tapestry depicting the Goddess of Trade was
stuffed against a wall. And somewhere in the cramped little room lay the Tablet of Fate Bane had hidden in the days before the gods
were cast from the Planes.
Midnight knew that the tablet could be disguised as anything, but the illusion cast over the artifact would be visible to her
enhanced vision. The mage quickly held a hand over her left eye and scanned the room. A bright red light leaked from a small box in
the corner, and Midnight rushed to open it. She quickly pulled the cover from the long steel case. For an instant, Midnight saw the
illusion Tenwealth had chosen for the tablet - that of a large, mailed fist - then the intensity of the light that burst from the box blinded
her. She stumbled backward a few steps.
In a moment, the raven-haired mage's vision cleared. Her right eye had returned to normal, and she could no longer see the
glow of magic. The world appeared as it always had. The mage looked in the box, and the Tablet of Fate lay before her.
She picked up the artifact and saw that it matched the vision Mystra had given her before the goddess's death. The stone tablet
was less than two feet long, with sparkling runes carved into its surface. Holding the artifact with one hand, Midnight turned and
carefully climbed the iron handholds into the antechamber.
Kelemvor looked up the instant Midnight passed through the secret door. The fighter raced to her side, and Midnight held the
artifact out to him. "That's not a tablet," the fighter cried. "You've got the wrong thing!"
Midnight sat down on the rough mattress in Tenwealth's chamber. The absurdity of the fighter's remarks finally struck the mage
and she started to laugh. "It's an illusion," she coughed between bursts of laughter. "Just disbelieve the illusion and you'll see the
tablet as it really is."
Adon and Elminster had moved to Midnight's side, too, and the heroes stood for a moment, staring at the Tablet of Fate.
Midnight stopped chuckling, and Kelemvor and Adon helped her to her feet. She slid the tablet into the canvas sack that held her
spellbook.
Kelemvor hugged the mage, a wide grin upon his face. "Now we can leave this place before anything else happens!"
Elminster frowned and shook his head. "Ye still have things to do here before ye can be off to Waterdeep. Do ye happen to
recall what happened when Helm and Mystra battled on the Celestial Stairway outside Castle Kilgrave?"
"None of us could ever forget," Midnight answered, slinging the sack containing her spellbook and the Tablet of Fate over her
shoulder. "The devastation went on for miles in every direction."
Adon nodded slowly. "And if one of the gods manages to slay the other..."
"Tantras will be destroyed," Kelemvor concluded.
Midnight turned to the sage. "There might be a way to save the city even if Torm and Bane destroy each other. The Bell of
Aylen Attricus. They say the bell was only rung once -"
"I know," Elminster snapped, a sly grin crossing his lips. "Legend has it that the bell has the power to throw a shield over the
city, protecting it from harm." He turned and raced from the room. "We must go there at once!"
The heroes raced after Elminster and they only caught him when he had stopped outside the temple. "But the bell is at the top
of the southern hill of Tantras," Midnight panted. "That's an hour's ride from here, provided we push our mounts to the point of
exhaustion. The avatars will be at each other's throats long before we get there."
Elminster stood away from the heroes and began to gesture. "If we ride."
The sage cast his spell so quickly that the heroes didn't have time to object. An intricate blue-white shield of light formed in the
air and engulfed all four of them. Kelemvor was seized by a fierce panic when he saw the mage cast a spell, and a fear that Elminster
might try to teleport them to the bell tower grabbed Adon. But the old sage finished his incantation, and the heroes found that they still
stood in front of the Temple of Torm.
"Are ye ready?" the sage asked. The heroes looked at one another in confusion. The sage frowned. "Take their hands,
Midnight."
The raven-haired mage did as Elminster asked. Kelemvor started to protest, but he swallowed his words as the white-haired
sage grabbed Midnight's hand and the heroes all rose from the ground. In a few seconds, they were high above the city.
"I just hope this spell doesn't fail halfway to the tower!" Adon cried.
Elminster pointed to the west. The golden, lion-headed avatar of Torm stood ominously still, towering over the city wall, waiting
for the black-armored avatar of the God of Strife to leave the Dragon Reach. "It's worth the risk," the old sage said grimly. "The gods'll
not wait for us to trek to the tower on foot."
XVI
AS GODS BATTLE
As Elminster and the heroes flew over Tantras, they looked down at the chaos that gripped the city. People rushed through the
streets. Worshipers of Torm were still dying everywhere. As they surrendered their lives to the God of Duty, the faithful sent their
souls-sky-blue streaks of light through the avenues, forming beautiful patterns. Then the souls mingled and flowed toward Torm's
lion-headed avatar.
The Tantrasan military was out in full force, too. The soldiers attempted to direct the people rushing away from the avatars
toward the garrison in the south. Most of Tantras's citizens simply ran blindly in that direction anyway. In the harbor, ships were being
prepared for battle, and the catapults on the breakwater were being loaded. The small Zhentish fleet remained just out of reach of the
weaponry and made no move to advance into the harbor.
Kelemvor had never flown before, and the high, thin air that rushed at his face made him light-headed and giddy. As the greeneyed
fighter looked at the sky, he marveled at how close he was to the clouds and how far he'd have to fall before hitting the ground if
Elminster's spell failed.
Flight was new to Adon, too, but the scarred cleric stared at the city, not the sky. A strange sense of wonder passed through
him. Is this how a god sees Faerun from the heavens? he thought. A world filled with thousands of tiny beings frantically scurrying
about? The cleric shuddered and closed his eyes.
Midnight looked back toward the temple and could see Torm standing near the shore of the Dragon Reach, on the edge of a
high cliff. A huge, dark shape covered with spikes was climbing out of the water. The mage thought back to Mystra's battle with Helm
outside Castle Kilgrave, and a sickness filled her soul. Midnight knew in that instant that Mystra was not the last god she would see
die before the Tablets of Fate were returned to Lord Ao.
Elminster, on the other hand, fixed his gaze dead ahead and thought only of maintaining the flight spell.
In the near distance lay the clearing that held Mystra's shrine. Soon the heroes could clearly see the tower that housed the Bell
of Aylen Attricus. Within minutes, Midnight and her allies found themselves at the foot of the large stone obelisk.
Midnight turned to the north. Torm still stood perfectly still, watching Bane, who now stood on the shore. "The battle has not yet
