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“Mother!” Zaltys shouted, and Julen thought, Aren’t we a bit old to be calling for mommy? Then Zaltys shouted “Krailash! You heard me call! You came!” and Julen realized she was calling to people there in the cavern-Krailash was there, holding his great battle-axe, and Alaia was there too, though her ever-present dire boar spirit companion was nowhere to be seen. Julen began to grin. The Slime King was formidable, certainly, but Alaia was one of the most powerful shamans in the region, and shamans lived to destroy unnatural things like Iraska had become. He wondered what she would do-summon giant bears to eat their enemies? Call up a wind to strip the flesh from Iraska’s old bones? Summon a priory of ghost panthers to slash and bite and claw?

But she didn’t do anything. She just stood there, staring at Zaltys. And Zaltys veered off course, running to one of the cages. There were eight or ten creatures inside, roughly human-sized, and all more or less snakelike. Some had the lower bodies of serpents, while others had arms and legs, but all had the heads of snakes-as essentially reptilian creatures, they didn’t look so terribly different from Krailash, except for the absence of frills on the cheeks and ears, and the fact that they mostly lacked legs. They stared at Zaltys in confusion as she started smashing at the bars of their cage with her magical bow. It was no way to treat such a weapon-bows weren’t clubs, and could be easily broken-but then, it was a magical bow, and you could probably use it to smash down a brick wall without breaking the back or the belly or even spoiling the curve. Still, it was surprising to see Zaltys use her bow that way, when she wouldn’t even risk damaging it by leaving it strung, but desperation did strange things to a person.

Krailash rushed toward Zaltys, holding his axe high, and for a moment, Julen thought, He’s realized she’s yuan-ti, he’s going to kill her! But instead, Krailash grabbed her, swung her around behind him as easily as Julen would have moved a kitten, and then struck the cage with Thunder’s Edge. The bars splintered and shattered at the first blow, and the yuan-ti started to slither hesitantly out.

Julen looked behind him, and Iraska and her terrible retinue were very close, kicking up spores as they charged through the mushroom fields toward them. He drew his green knife again, hoping he wouldn’t need to use it, still waiting for Alaia to do something suitably shamanic and conflict-ending. Krailash took a stance between the onrushing horde and the members of the Serrat family he was sworn to protect, and the freed yuan-ti-knowing a good thing when they saw it-hurried behind him as well. The other slaves in the pens, kuo-toa and quaggoths and bullywugs and who knew what else, all chattered and screamed and shouted and croaked and pleaded for freedom. Zaltys stepped beside Krailash, her magical bow in her hands, her woefully underfilled quiver of arrows hanging from her shoulder. “For family!” she shouted, and nocked an arrow.

Then Alaia pushed past her, and stepped in front of Krailash, and said, “Avert your eyes, children!”

Julen, who’d learned very well to obey his elders, turned his head aside, and that’s when Alaia apparently exploded in a burst of blinding light.

Krailash realized what Alaia was going to do an instant before she did it, and squeezed his eyes shut. Still, the light was bright enough to make his eyelids glow red, just a flash, there and gone, and he opened his eyes, knowing the advantage wouldn’t last for long.

“I may have lost my powers, but at least I still have this nice robe,” Alaia said, smoothing the fabric of her robe of stars. The magic in the gown allowed it to create a sudden flash of light, blinding one’s enemies-and for the light-sensitive denizens of the Underdark, it was be even more debilitating. The charging woman-a human? how strange-wearing tattered shreds of vines pressed her hands to her eyes and howled, while the derro and their monstrous followers stumbled around in a daze. Only two of the derro were unaffected, hulking figures with blindfolds wrapped around their eyes, and Krailash decided to kill them first, but an arrow and a throwing knife steaked past him, striking them both down courtesy of Zaltys and Julen pressing the advantage. Krailash lunged into action, swinging his great axe and bellowing, attacking any derro who came close.

The fight was going well-truly, it was more of a massacre-but then something insubstantial but impossibly strong, like the tentacles of a ghostly kraken, wrapped around his chest and lifted him into the air, hurling him at the cavern wall. He struck with enough force to knock all the wind out of him, and slid down. Dazed, unable to get his breath, he stared up at the twisting portals that hovered over the field. They were moving, drifting like clouds, but coming together, forming into a larger sphere that crackled with lightning in colors he didn’t know the names for-colors that made his head ache and his eyes burn. Only the portal on the wall, where the terazul flowers emerged, didn’t move-otherwise all the spheres floating in the cavern drew together, like iron filings drawn to a magnet.

He didn’t know what it meant. Probably it was important. Possibly even deadly. He should do something about it, if only he could remember how to stand up, and how to move.

Zaltys was impressed by her mother’s light show, but a bit disappointed it didn’t flash-fry the derro where they were standing-she’d expected something more powerful, but her mother’s journey had probably been arduous, to judge by the bloody scratches on her face. Zaltys felt guilty about Alaia’s presence, since now she was in danger too. Zaltys had only wanted to help her family; she hadn’t meant to endanger her other family.

She’d had some hope that, once she freed them, the yuan-ti might wade into battle spitting venom and flashing fangs, but they seemed content to stand back and see how things developed. Hardly surprising, given that they’d been enslaved for nearly twenty years, but disappointing nonetheless.

While their enemies were blind, Zaltys and Julen did their best to pick them off, starting with the two blindfolded derro and then focusing on Iraska. Julen threw his green knife, but by bad luck it just missed Iraska and instead struck the quaggoth with the beholder eyes, which went down in a mass of crawling greenery. Julen swore and threw ordinary daggers at Iraska, but her phantom tentacles batted them away, so he shifted his attention, hurling more knives and felling other derro-including Bug-eater, who said, very clearly, “Not fair!” before dropping to the ground with a hilt growing out of his chest.

Zaltys stared at Iraska, and willed all other distractions to drop away. She lifted her beautiful bow, and reached behind her for an arrow: one of the special ones Quelamia had given her. The arrowhead glittered like a diamond. The wizard had told Zaltys it was a shard of crystal from something called the Living Gate, a potent weapon against aberrations and Iraska was at least part aberration with her spectral tentacles lashing.

The distractions of the battlefield fell away. Krailash was charging in with an axe, Julen was throwing knives, and her mother was handing the yuan-ti long shafts of bone and urging them-futilely-to use them as clubs, but Zaltys only let herself see Iraska, a terrible apparition in shreds of greenery. She settled into her stance, nocked the arrow, and drew smoothly, pulling back until her fingers touched the corner of her mouth. She sighted a little low and to the side to account for paradox-the strange way an arrow curved out and around when it left a bow-but she needn’t have bothered. With a bow like that, she couldn’t miss.

Just before she loosed, Zaltys saw Iraska take notice of Krailash, who was rapidly laying waste to her warriors-who were, after all, mostly savants and mad chirurgeons, not even proper derro fighters. Her terrible tentacles lashed out and grabbed Krailash, flinging him against the wall.