The Black Lord's chest burst open and a flood of bluish white fires exploded from him and engulfed Mystra, who held her hands out to the flow of magic and welcomed it into her. The fires changed, becoming a blazing amber, then a bright, glowing red as Bane felt the last of the energies he had taken from Mystra leave him and the first of his own depart as well.
"You imprisoned the Goddess of Magic, you fool! Now you will pay in kind for what you did to me."
Bane cried out as more of his energy left him. "Mystra! I'm — "
"Dying?" she said. "Aye, it would appear so. Do give my regards to Lord Myrkul. I don't believe he's ever had a god as one of his charges before. But you're not a god anymore, are you, Bane?"
Bane raised his hands imploringly.
"All right. Bane, I'll give you one chance to save yourself. Tell me where the Tablets of Fate are hidden, and I'll show you mercy."
"You want them for yourself?" Bane gasped as another pulse of energy left him.
"No," Mystra said. "I want to return the tablets to Lord Ao and end the madness you've caused."
There was movement in the corridor, and Mystra turned to see Kelemvor and his companions standing in the doorway.
Suddenly a spiralling black vortex appeared before the Black Lord and Tempus Blackthorne stepped from the rift his magic had created. Grasping the body of his wounded master, Blackthorne dragged Bane back into the vortex. Before Mystra could move to strike down the Black Lord and his emissary, they vanished. Mystra's spell was broken as the vortex closed, and a blast of chaotic energy threw the goddess against the wall. When she looked up, she found Kelemvor standing above her.
The fighter seemed pale. "I knew you were made of stern stuff, little one, but even I am impressed."
Mystra smiled as she felt the wild flow of power course through her.
"Caitlan," Midnight said. "Are you alright?" The magic-user leaned toward the avatar, and the star pendant flashed into view.
"The pendant. Give it to me!" Mystra cried.
Midnight stood back. "Caitlan?"
Mystra looked at Midnight once more and realized that the pendant had grafted itself to the magic-user's skin to protect itself — keep itself from being taken from her if she were asleep or injured.
"We should get the child outside," Midnight said.
"Wait a minute," Cyric said. "I want to know how she got out of camp that night, and why she left."
"Please," Adon said calmly. "We should be worried about the poor girl's mistress."
A sudden anger passed through the goddess. "I am Mystra, Goddess of Magic! The creature I fought was Bane, God of Strife. Now give me that pendant! It's mine!"
Midnight and Adon stared at the avatar in shock. Kelemvor frowned. Cyric eyed Mystra suspiciously.
Kelemvor folded his arms. "Perhaps the battle has addled her young brains."
"Caitlan Moonsong and I have become one," Mystra said calmly. I brought her to this place and merged our souls to save us both from Lord Bane. You aided her on her journey, so you have earned our thanks."
"And a damn shade more," Kelemvor said.
"The debt will be repaid," Mystra said, and Kelemvor remembered the words of Caitlan on her sickbed.
She can cure you.
Mystra turned to Midnight. "On Calanter's Way, you entered into a pact with me. I saved your life from those who wished you harm. In return, you promised to keep safe my trust. You have done so admirably." Mystra reached out with her hand. "But now it is time to return that trust."
Midnight looked down and was shocked as she realized that the pendant hung away from her flesh. She took the pendant from around her neck and gave it to the girl, who instantly blazed with a ferocious blue-white fire.
Hanging back her head, the goddess indulged in a moment of absolute rapture as a portion of the power she had wielded in the Planes coursed through her body. As it had been before the time of Arrival, Mystra's will was again enough to bring magic into existence, and though she was still considerably weaker than she was before Ao cast her out of the heavens, Mystra was again linked to the weave of magic that surrounded Faerun. The feeling was glorious.
"Let us put some distance between ourselves and this place," Mystra said as she addressed her rescuers. "Then I will tell you all you wish to know."
Moments later, the heroes felt the warmth of sunlight as they approached the gate of Castle Kilgrave, and they were blinded for a moment as they left the dark ruins. They walked from the castle with a leaden quality to their step, as if daring the castle to throw one last barrage of madness their way. But the castle was bleak and lifeless.
Mystra looked at the sky. She could see the sparkling Celestial Stairway as it rose toward the heavens, its aspects frequently changing. At times the goddess had a vague impression of a figure standing at the top of the stairway, but then it was gone, the image losing consistency after the briefest of instants.
The adventurers followed Mystra as she made her way toward a spot no more than five hundred feet from the entrance to the castle. Along the way, a heated argument had broken out.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Kelemvor shouted.
"I believe her," Midnight said.
"Aye, you believe her. But can your 'goddess' prove her wild claims?"
Mystra commanded the party to wait for her as she turned toward the stairway. Kelemvor stormed forward, ranting about the riches they had been promised and the goddess stared at the man, her eyes blazing with a blue-white fire.
"You have the gratitude of a goddess," Mystra said coldly. "What more could you want?"
Kelemvor remembered his encounter with the goddess Tymora, after paying admission to gaze upon her.
"I'll settle for a decent meal, clothes on my back, and enough gold to buy my own kingdom!" Kelemvor shouted. "I'd also like to be able to use my arm again!"
Suddenly Mystra cocked her head to one side. "Is that all? I assumed you wished to be made into deities."
Cyric's eyes narrowed. "Is such a thing possible?"
Mystra smiled and glowing fireballs leaped from her hands. Kelemvor almost screamed as the crackling energy of the first fireball engulfed him from head to toe, and suddenly he felt a vitality he hadn't felt in days. The flames died away and Kelemvor lifted his arm, staring at his healed limb incredulously.
The second fireball struck the ground, bringing into existence two regal mounts to replace the ones that had been lost, and two packhorses carrying restocked supplies and a fortune in gold and precious stones. Then the goddess turned and walked to the stairway. She opened her hands, spread her arms, and lowered her head, as if in meditation.
Kelemvor stood beside Midnight, and soon their argument resumed. Cyric watched without interfering, and Adon stood, silently watching the goddess before him.
"Certainly she is powerful, and her tale of bonding with her mistress may well be true," Kelemvor said.
"Then why do you deny your senses? Don't you appreciate Mystra's gifts of gratitude?" Midnight said.
"They were well earned!" Kelemvor said as he stuffed a large chunk of sweetbread in his mouth. "But a powerful mage, such as Elminster of Shadowdale, could easily perform the same feats. I have seen another of these 'gods' and I'm not sure they aren't powerful lunatics!"
Mystra looked up at the mention of Elminster, and a smile played across her face as some private reverie amused her for a moment, then she returned to her preparations.
"And so you blaspheme in their presence!" Midnight shouted.
"I speak my mind!"
"I believe her!" Midnight screamed as she poked at Kelemvor's armored chest. "You might never have regained full use of your arm if not for Mystra!"
Kelemvor seemed shaken. He thought of his father, retired from adventuring because of his wounds, prowling Lyonsbane Keep, making young Kelemvor's life a living hell.