Tymora and Beshaba began exploring every inch of the walls in greater detail, looking for a flaw they could work on. Because the bard was unable to travel safely through the Limbo-like chaos outside the region the goddesses had formed, they left him in Beshaba's temple. There Joel practiced manipulating the chaotic matter with his mind, feeling much like a child who'd been given a lump of clay to play with while his parents went about their adult business.
The bard found that fields of grass and groves of trees were the easiest to create, while rooms took a great deal more concentration. He challenged himself by creating rooms he remembered well, like his grandmother's parlor, the mess hall of the barding college he'd attended as a boy, and the tavern where he first met Finder and spent a long night discussing music and art.
His creations were nowhere near as organized or detailed as the goddesses'; nonetheless, it was an amazingly powerful sensation manipulating the chaos into order. Concentrating proved to be taxing work, however, and Joel was forced to retreat periodically to the temple so he could rest without thinking.
As he played with the Limbo matter, Joel began to recognize a certain common denominator in each the environments he created-the window. It appeared in each of the interiors Joel created, although he was certain there was no window in the real mess hall or the tavern. He tried hard to envision the space without the window, but it would not go away.
The temple Beshaba had created had a tunnel shaft, and the dungeon that Beshaba's mind had formed without even consciously thinking about it had a window. Joel concentrated on forming the hull of the spelljammer he'd ridden in, which definitely had no windows, but his creation was marred by a ragged hole in the hull. Something, or someone, was keeping the Limbo matter from completely surrounding him.
Joel could think of only one reason for the opening: Someone outside the fusion chamber wanted a window in order to watch the prisoners.
Joel imagined some sacks of sand along the hull of the imaginary spelljammer and climbed atop them so he could peer through the hole. A dim, rosy light shone through.
In the dim light, on the other side of the spelljammer hull, Joel could make out what looked like a stone altar, adorned with glowing crystals and sparking balls of glass. Strewn about the table were varying tokens of luck both good and bad-a horseshoe, a luck stone, a four-leaf clover, a broken mirror, a new knife, and a black cat curled into a ball, sleeping. Suspended magically above the table were three items: an old coin and a pink rose, both of which glowed as bright as a lightning flash, and a blue crystal sphere.
The space beyond the stone altar looked like a grassy clearing beneath a bright red tent large enough to hold a wedding party.
The hole in the hull seemed to Joel like a magical portal out of the fusion chamber. Joel tried to put his hand through the hole, but found his way blocked by an invisible magical barrier. Unlike the shimmering walls of the fusion chamber, the barrier that blocked the portal was not completely impenetrable. Joel poked at it with his dagger, and in doing so discovered that nonliving objects could penetrate through the magical opening. Standing this close to the hole, he became aware of a faint clanking sound. Then he heard voices, muffled, he suspected, by the magical barrier.
In his excitement, Joel's concentration on the hull ceased, and he was surrounded again by chaos. Staving off panic, he swam back through the swirling matter until he reached Beshaba's temple. He coughed up the water and dirt he had inadvertently breathed in and smacked out the tiny patches of flame dancing in his clothing and hair.
Once he'd caught his breath, the bard concentrated on the tunnel near the ceiling. He reformed the chaos matter so the shaft was considerably larger, reaching down to the floor. In doing so, he uncovered another magical portal through which he could look out of the fusion chamber. Oddly enough, this portal opened to the exact same spot as the hole in the spelljammer hull-above the altar in the tent. Apparently only portals to the altar functioned. Just like the one in the spelljammer hull, this portal was blocked by a magical barrier through which Joel could push his dagger but not his hand.
Joel listened carefully for the voices again and was rewarded when he heard someone say, "My lord, I do not recommend that you speak with them. It will only cause them unnecessary anxiety, which is likely to affect your ability to control the spell."
The voice was deep and familiar. Joel was pretty sure it was the same voice that had ordered Beshaba to be placed in the fusion chamber.
The second speaker's voice was also deep, but softer than the first, making it hard for Joel to distinguish the words.
"… would think… anxiety… happening to them would be worse… ease the transition… be cowardly… Nothing will alter my will" were all the words Joel caught.
Suddenly two tall male figures appeared in the doorway of the tent. One was particularly handsome, with the body of a tall, slender, youthful athlete and fiery red-orange hair. He was dressed in a tunic of opalescent reds and golds. He could only be the god Lathander, Joel thought. The other figure was even taller, with hair, eyebrows, and beard of living flames. His robe shimmered with the colors of fire. Joel guessed this was the mysterious Sirrion of the Flowing Flame. Each god possessed an aura so bright that Joel stood blinking like an owl in daylight.
"What is he doing in the fusion chamber?" Lathander demanded, pointing directly at the bard.
Immediately Joel dived behind the cover of the altar.
"In our haste to place Beshaba into the fusion chamber," Joel heard Sirrion reply, "I neglected to have your servants search her. She must have smuggled him in as a smaller creature. It will make no difference to our spell. He is a mere mortal and cannot affect the outcome."
"But he will die in the chaos of the creation," Lathander objected.
"I warned you, my lord, that some sacrifices would have to be made," Sirrion said. A slight impatient whine had crept into his voice. "No," Lathander insisted, "not one such as this. He is the priest of another god. He must be taken out. I sense him hiding there behind that altar. Open the portal so the guardinals can fetch him."
"My lord," Sirrion objected, "it's too risky. Lady Beshaba and Lady Tymora are both conscious. They may sense the exit and seize the opportunity to escape."
Then you must drain enough power from them so that they become unconscious again," Lathander ordered.
"That could delay the spell by nearly another day," Sirrion declared. "Selune's suspicions have already been aroused because you placed Tymora where she cannot sense her presence. If we don't hurry, Selune may enter this place unbidden and discover our plan. She isn't likely to agree with your decision. She may find a way to thwart us."
"And what exactly is this plan, Lord Lathander?" Tymora asked suddenly in an angry tone. "I was doubtful of Beshaba's claim that you were involved in this, but I see you have betrayed my trust." Lady Luck pointed to the gold coin suspended above the stone altar outside the fusion chamber. "You have drained my power from me by using the power key I gave to one of your priests as a favor to you."
Joel peered out from behind the altar. Tymora and Beshaba had just flown into the temple. They stood on either side of the tunnel window Joel had enlarged and glared out of the fusion chamber at their captors.