As the transformed wizard dropped out of the shaft and into the wider chamber at its bottom, he drew up from his plunge and banked to one side, darting away from the entrance to the place.
He found himself in another strange throne room, but this one faced at right angles to the one above, and unlike the chamber overhead with its harsh reds, browns, and greens, this one was inky black, with strange, glowing gray runes inscribed along the walls. The bizarre writing seemed to twist and writhe at the edge of Shanhaevel’s vision as he scanned the place. The only light issued from flickering torches set in cressets all about the perimeter of the room.
At the near end of the long chamber, close to the shaft opening through which he had dropped down, a broad set of stairs led up into another chamber, currently unlit. At the far end, just before the throne, Hedrack knelt with his back to Shanhaevel, working at something on the floor before him. Sitting upon the throne was a horrid crone, a frightful woman whose gaze seemed glazed and distant.
Uncertain of how to proceed, Shanhaevel swooped in closer on silent wings, hoping to gain a better view of what the high priest was doing. As the transformed elf circled overhead, he saw that Hedrack knelt at the edge of a great symbol inscribed in the floor—a hexagon inside a circle. The tips of the hexagon, radiating out past the circle, glowed in the colors of the rainbow—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and indigo—while the center of the device pulsed with a faint purple light. The various hues somehow seemed sickly and wrong, but the wizard gave it little thought, for Shirral was lying on her back in the center of the device. She had been stripped bare, and Hedrack was attaching iron manacles to her ankles and wrists, obviously preparing her for some sacrifice. The druid seemed sluggish, her eyes only half open and her jaw slack as she stared vacantly up toward the ceiling. Resting on the floor between Hedrack’s knees as he leaned out over the druid was the golden skull.
Shanhaevel banked again, preparing to dart in and steal the golden key out from under Hedrack’s nose. The transformed elf had been swift and silent to this point, and the high priest had not noticed him at all. Hedrack secured both of Shirral’s ankles and began to work on her left wrist. It would be such a simple matter to fly in, grab the key, and soar to the far side of the room before the high priest knew what had happened. Shanhaevel came around low and fast. He was approaching his target when the crone sitting upon the throne shrieked and pointed.
Shanhaevel’s heart sank as Hedrack’s head whipped around and spotted the owl even as he snatched up the key and clutched it close. Shanhaevel tried to pull up and fly out of reach of the high priest, but he had built up too much momentum, and it was an easy thing for Hedrack to swing out with his mailed fist and strike the wizard hard.
The blow sent Shanhaevel sprawling across black marble the floor. He came to rest against the wall a good distance away, his vision blurred red with pain and anger at his own failure. One wing was broken. Wide-eyed, he triggered the magical effect that would cancel the spell, and he felt himself shapeshift back into his normal form. His arm hung uselessly at his side, his staff at his feet.
Hedrack stood, facing the wizard, an unpleasant smile on his face.
“That was daring,” the priest said, grinning. “I applaud your efforts. Since you managed to come down here, you can at least watch as I send your companion screaming into the abyss. My Lady Zuggtmoy will enjoy entertaining her, I’m sure.”
At this, the crone cackled with crazed glee.
Shanhaevel clenched his fists and immediately regretted it, for pain shot through his injured arm. Gritting his teeth, he snarled, “Save your mocking for someone who cares to listen to you, you bastard I came down here to put an end to this.”
The wizard drew a deep breath and prepared a spell.
Hedrack laughed, seeming to find the elf’s words genuinely funny. Shanhaevel paused in his casting, taken aback by the high priest’s unexpected display. Hedrack chuckled softly at first, openly amazed, but he was soon bent halfway over, howling with amusement, gasping for air. Tears of mirth ran down his face. Shanhaevel could only watch, dumbfounded.
“You honestly still think you have a chance!” the high priest gasped between fits of laughter. “You think you might still be able to stop me! Oh, that is rich!” Finally regaining control, Hedrack continued. “Don’t you understand? It’s over! You’ve lost! The moment I gained control of the key”—he held up the small golden skull to emphasize his words—“victory was mine. What do you expect to accomplish now? How do you expect to stop me, when I can do this?”
The high priest gestured, and a scintillating coalescence swirled in the air near where he stood. The disturbance grew and solidified until it was a whirlwind, hovering beside the high priest. The thing of air seemed alive, shifting and spinning, sending a cascade of dust through the room. It towered almost to the ceiling. Shanhaevel swallowed and took an involuntary step back, thinking desperately through the magic he had left, trying to come up with something he could use to defeat the air being.
Hedrack gestured again, and another disturbance appeared, swirling into the form of a huge pile of earth and stone, vaguely manlike in shape. It swayed on its feet. Two massive arms that ended in great, rocky fists hung at its sides.
Obviously enjoying his grandiose demonstration of power, Hedrack made a third, and then a fourth gesture, bringing into existence two more elemental creatures, one of fire and one of water. The two new beings danced with energy, seeming to lean forward against the forces that bound them, eager to scurry forward and strike at the awed elf standing on the opposite side of the chamber. Behind Hedrack, the crone cackled in mad glee, delighted with the summonings the high priest had performed.
Gloating and proud, Hedrack lowered his arms. “So tell me, wizard, did you honestly think you had a chance? Did you really believe you could defeat the temple in its finest hour? I will give you credit. You are amusing.” He gestured once more, and as one, the four elemental creatures lurched toward Shanhaevel. “Destroy him. Now.”
As Hedrack watched, standing casually, with one arm folded across his chest and the other hanging easily at his side, his four new pets made for Shanhaevel unerringly, moving to consume him in their essence, to freeze, crush, burn, and drown him utterly.
The air elemental spun crazily, whipping about the room, gliding rapidly along one wall until it was behind the elf, trapping him and preventing escape. The creatures of fire and water moved to flank Shanhaevel, their bodies a sheet of flickering flame and a trembling, surging wave. The creature of earth came last, making the hall shake with its slow, deliberate footfalls.
Shanhaevel had nowhere to go. He was trapped between the four elemental forces, surrounded by the powers of nature and doomed to suffer their effects. Desperately, the elf looked at Hedrack, hoping beyond hope that there might be some reprieve from the high priest, some sudden notion from the man that death like this was beyond even his desire, but Shanhaevel knew in his heart that Hedrack delighted in this. Shirral would die, and Zuggtmoy, strong in her own plane, though she had manifested as a cackling crone here on Oerth, would be freed to ruin the lands around the temple.