"I'm dying!" Bane cried as he staggered to his feet. He looked at his wounds, saw his energy draining away. The Black Lord's eyes blazed with crimson light as he lowered himself into a crouch. "Come, Torm. We will visit Myrkul's kingdom together."
Before the God of Duty could get away, the Black Lord charged to his side, grabbed his shoulders, and drew Torm into a deadly embrace. A dozen spikes pierced the lion-headed avatar, and Torm roared in pain.
The juggernauts teetered back and forth for a moment, standing only because they were supporting one another. Bane laughed, low and hollow, and the sound drifted out over the Dragon Reach. Torm looked into the Black Lord's eyes, then opened his sharp-toothed maw and slowly brought the rows of teeth down upon Bane's throat.
The God of Strife's laughter abruptly ceased.
On the southern hill of Tantras, Midnight released her hold on the bell's rope. It was no use. She had tried time and again to force the Bell of Aylen Attricus to sound once more, but she had failed.
"Try again!" Elminster snapped then turned to look out at the sky over Tantras.
"Elminster, I can't," Midnight cried, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion.
The old sage did not take his gaze from the strange lights above the city. The frail bonds of reality seemed to be coming undone and lines of force were snaking out across the sky. The center of this web of energy rested just above the avatar's battleground and took the form of a swirling vortex that rose toward the clouds. Sky-blue streaks of power intertwined with amber, green, and reddish black strands. The souls of the followers of the Black Lord and the God of Duty battled for control of Tantras, even beyond death.
Huge, glowing meteors had begun to rain down upon the city, too. The fiery balls struck the earth in every direction. Some demolished buildings, others devastated ships in the harbor. As Adon watched, one fireball tore a hole in the side of a Zhentish craft and the galley foundered then sank in the Dragon Reach.
Still another meteor struck the amber dome that protected the bell tower. Though it couldn't reach the heroes, the glowing chunk of rock bounced off the magical wall and fell into the hundreds of panicked Tantrasans who had seen the shield from the distance and had flocked around it. Kelemvor had to watch in helpless anger as the meteor killed two dozen people and injured a score more.
Inside the tower, Elminster felt his aged heart racing. "Ye must try again," the sage said slowly, turning back to the raven-haired mage.
Midnight fell to her knees, the rope in her hands. "Can't you teleport some of the refugees inside the shield?"
"Magic won't penetrate this barrier," Elminster grumbled. "Ye should know that."
The old sage paused and walked to Midnight's side. He helped her to her feet and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Midnight," Elminster said in a comforting tone the mage would never have associated with the cranky old sage, "ye alone have the power to complete this task. Mystra believed in ye. It's about time ye did the same and justified her trust. Now, force away thy fears and concentrate on saving this city."
With those words, the old sage turned and left the tower. Midnight stared up at the bell and imagined it ringing. For a moment she could almost see the bell swinging back and forth in the tower, its rich tones filling her ears. She closed her eyes and the image remained. In that instant, Midnight finally understood the reason for the magical silence that gripped the tower before the bell was rung. Only by blocking out all distraction, by concentrating fully on the task of ringing the bell, could a mage hope to make it sound.
For a moment, Midnight did not think. She did not feel. For an instant, she didn't even breathe.
Then, the raven-haired mage pulled the rope, and the Bell of Aylen Attricus sang out again, its song of power so loud that it nearly deafened her. The bell tower glowed with a bright amber light, and a terrifying chill flowed down and engulfed Midnight. Amber waves of energy and black lightning flashed in the tower then leaped from the high windows to the dome that protected the heroes. The walls of the shield quickly spread outward, and the huddled Tantrasans suddenly found themselves safe within its confines.
Midnight ran to the tower's door and watched as the dome continued to expand. She gasped, though, as she saw that the shield was slowing as it moved across the southern hill. She raced back inside and grabbed the rope once more. The mage pulled with all her strength, ignoring the blasts of cold and the maddening sound of the bell tolling. She pulled on the rope again and again, with no regard for herself. All that mattered was the city.
Still, Midnight was only human, and after a time that seemed like an eternity to her, the mage felt her arms grow limp, her hands slide from the rope, and her legs buckle beneath her. She collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. When Midnight opened her eyes again, only a moment had passed, but Elminster, Kelemvor, and Adon were now inside the tower with her.
The green-eyed fighter fell to his knees and threw his arms around Midnight. "The shield is over the city," Kelemvor said. "It's over."
"I don't think so," Adon whispered as he turned back to the door.
The cleric saw that the shield was still expanding, although it had not yet reached the citadel and the Temple of Torm. Suddenly there was an explosion that made the sound of the bell tolling seem like a small child clapping his hands. A massive, night-black form rose over the north hill of the city. The shape was amorphous, and a blood-red spiral of energy curled within its center. A second shape rose behind the ebon blob, but it was sky blue with an amber core that looked not unlike a shining sun.
The unprotected part of the city, which contained both the Temple of Torm and the citadel, was covered by a wave of searing flame. The land turned black, and the waters of the Dragon Reach bubbled and changed to vapor under the intense heat. The Zhentish ships exploded as the waves of flame struck them. Bane's troops died instantly.
On the shore to the north of the city, the discarded bodies of the avatars lay upon the rocks, charred and brittle. Bane's obsidian giant was shattered in a dozen places, and its head lay yards from its body. The golden-skinned avatar of the God of Duty had been ripped to shreds, and its proud lion's head lay twisted, its soulless eyes staring up toward the essences of the rival gods that hung over the coast.
In the sky, the pulsating essences of Bane and Torm were dragged upward, caught in the pull of the vortex created by the freed souls of their followers. The vortex swallowed the shimmering, swirling masses that had once been gods, and a blinding white flash filled the air. The crimson spiral, the heart of what had once been Lord Bane, the God of Strife and Tyranny, and the amber soul of Lord Torm, the God of Duty and Loyalty, met in the whirlwind. A high-pitched shriek, the final cries of both gods, filled the air. The vortex swallowed the deities and the screams stopped. Both gods were dead.
At the Tower of Aylen Attricus, Kelemvor and Adon helped Midnight to her feet. Together, they walked from the stone obelisk, Elminster trailing behind them. A group of Tantrasans had gathered around the tower, and the crowd was suddenly silent as the heroes stepped outside.
Midnight smiled when she saw the people gathered around, safe from the destruction that had savaged the northern shoreline, but when she looked closer and saw the awe in their faces, she shuddered. Their expressions were composed of the same look of fear mixed with adoration that the mage had seen on the faces of those who'd given their lives for Torm.
Softly, she asked Adon and Kelemvor to give her a moment alone with the old sage. As soon as her friends had walked away, Midnight turned to Elminster and asked, "What do you know about my powers?"