Anusha looked for Japheth. Still nowhere to be seen.

"Let's go, Raidon!" she yelled at the monk. He glanced in her general direction and shook his head. Was he crying?

"Is that... Anusha?" said Raidon, his voice raised above the clamor of the remaining aboleths. "So the captain was right. Well, it doesn't matter. I fulfilled my oath. I tried to kill the Eldest. For some reason, I failed. I put it back to sleep, but I did not kill it as I intended."

She gasped. "Will it wake again?"

"No. At least not fully, and not soon. But it is not dead. I shall stay here and kill as many of the elder aboleths as I can before they consume me." He shrugged. The half-elf had lost his bearings. She hastened to him, letting go her dream blade as she did so. Her headache instantly eased.

Anusha grabbed one of Raidon's wrists, making certain her hand was solid enough to do so. "Come. We need you, Raidon. You've bound it, it was bound for millennia before. Perhaps you've given us another few thousand years. If so, I call that success!"

She gave a light tug. The monk sighed. "A half measure."

"Come with me!" she yelled, and pulled.

"Very well." His voice was not that of a man who'd just potentially saved Toril an age of grief. What was wrong with him?

"This way," said Anusha, pulling the monk along toward the tunnel exit Seren had departed through.

After a few steps, it was all she could do, even using her dream-twisting advantage, to keep up with him. The man could run when he decided to.

As they left the chamber, Anusha glanced back one last time, searching for the telltale black cloak. Still nothing.

But...

A shiver tickled at the nape of her neck. The feeling plunged down her spine into the small of her back. She stumbled, losing her grip on Raidon's arm. "Go on!" she said, and spun around to see what had grazed her.

The elder aboleths pursued them. But... none were close enough to have grazed her. She summoned her dream blade anyhow.

It was as if a thousand tiny ants with warm feet ran up and down her body. "What's happening? Was this the end? Was she—"

Darkness engulfed her. The screams of the livid aboleths, the smell of rotting fish, the agony in her temples—all of it went away.

Anusha blinked.

Wan light from the porthole revealed a small room.

The woman gasped and sat up in her open travel chest. With eyes that felt wide as saucers, she soaked in the beautiful, wonderful, cramped cabin on Green Siren.

Tears slid down her cheek. She hugged herself, feeling her own warm, if noticeably skinny, self. A dog whined, then barked. A wagging tail thumped repeatedly against wooden planking. Lucky!

Japheth had done it. She was free.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Leaving Xxiphu

Japheth witnessed Raidon Kane complete the binding. He perceived the great shock of negation expanding up from the freshly scribed hundred foot-diameter seal and penetrating the Eldest. The beast groaned, even in its petrified slumber, as if crying out against the injustice of the world.

But the tendril of awareness that dealt with Japheth insisted the warlock stick to his deal.

Japheth agreed and continued to hold the personality fragment to its end of the bargain, even as the elder servitors of Xxiphu swirling below Japheth's feet raged at their failure. He maintained his position and shouted, over and over again, even as his voice cracked, "Release Anusha Marhana! Release her!"

And just like that, Japheth felt Anusha's focus slip free. Yeva's too! "Yes!"

Anusha's focus sped away, seeking its rightful mooring. Yeva's foundered. He'd expected that and offered the homeless spirit a temporary roost in the dark confines of his rod. Though he couldn't see it, he felt the spirit of the strange woman take up residence within it.

The ritual concluded. He plunged toward the floor.

He instinctively reached out to grasp for a support where none existed. Wasting time clawing at empty air almost proved his death. But a moment before his brains were dashed out upon the floor of the throne chamber, he plunged into the gaping discontinuity of his cloak.

And stepped out into a rounded tunnel dripping with phosphorescent slime.

A sprinting man avoided colliding with him with a spectacular leap that cleared Japheth's head by inches.

The man rolled into a landing, was back on his feet a moment later, and turned to regard the warlock. "Japheth," he said, "you should not have come here."

"Raidon Kane," said Japheth. "We can argue that later. Right now about twenty-odd aboleths, each the size of a dragon, are coming down this corridor. We must go!" The monk regarded the warlock a heartbeat longer, then said, "The woman, your friend, was with me a moment ago in her intangible shape. She seems—"

"I released her, Raidon! I did it!" He raised a fist and grinned. "Now come on! Show me the way to your ship!

Seren told me you outfitted Green Siren to bring you here."

The monk's face, normally an expressionless mask, wavered between resignation and anger. The half-elf didn't look well. His wild expression suggested he was on the edge of a mental break.

A scream of abolethic fury and a flash of red light behind Japheth lit the monk's face. It was enough to engage Raidon once more.

"This way. You will have to keep up with me. Perhaps we can catch up to Seren and Thoster. They went ahead—I haven't been this way before."

Raidon sprinted off down the corridor.

Japheth followed. He immediately fell behind.

He hadn't traversed more than a hundred yards when he detected a change in the timbre of the pursuing aboleths. Perhaps it was the star pact that gave him insight into the sounds. Or maybe it was because he knew why a passel of despairing servitors of Xxiphu, bent on murderous revenge, would suddenly give up the chase.

He knew why they exulted instead. He'd given them a gift beyond measure.

Or at least they would initially assume he had.

Right now, they rejoiced that their progenitor wasn't dead. They rejoiced because they believed they had the key to resuming their rousing chant where they'd left off.

Soon enough, the aboleths and the Eldest's slumbering, yet all-too-active subconscious would realize his deception. He hoped he could get out of the terrible city and back to Green Siren—where, the stars willing, Anusha waited— before then.

Despite his deception, the warlock had still provided the aboleths a prize that would prove all too useful. He regretted it, but not enough that he would have decided differently if given the chance to do it over.

Japheth ran.

Despite his earlier implication, Raidon did wait up for Japheth. Every so often the monk paused at the edge of a pool of slime where an aboleth yet slumbered. As the warlock caught up, the monk plunged Angul into the cavity, killing the monster before it even realized its peril. An expression of grim satisfaction hardened the monk's face each time.

When Raidon had his blade out, Japheth stayed clear. With the new pact, Japheth suspected the Blade Cerulean would see him as essentially no different from an aboleth or other aberrant creature. The weapon was insane.

And Japheth suspected, the more he watched the half-elf, so was the wielder.

The tunnel spit the gasping Japheth into a cavity whose far side was open to the massive vault that surrounded Xxiphu. Green Siren hung unsuspended in the air just feet from a protruding stone shelf. Seeing it hovering without support, save for a few slack ropes tied to the shelf, gave Japheth a momentary rush of vertigo.

Sparkling gold and red points of light swirled around the ship.

Raidon, Thoster, Seren, and several crew were also visible, including the first mate. Raidon was boarding. Seren stood on the deck of Green Siren nearest the shelf. Thoster's strong voice was directing the crew to cast off.