Chaos and Entropy

Author’s Note: The holidays slowed me down on this chapter, not to mention the fact that it just didn’t want to flow, the pesky thing.

Chapter 8…Clueless

I thought the dimension door spell was bad but stepping through the portal was much, much worse. For the longest, most horrid moment, the world was gone and my body with it. I’ve always thought terror was centered in the body: the racing heart, the panting breath, the urgent need to pee in your pants. But despite the fact that my body was gone—I felt like I was literally a shadow of myself—terror still gripped me. There was no light, no scent or other familiar sensations at all, only relentless unyielding terror.

And then there was light. There was sound. My knees hit the floor and my sides heaved in an urgent need to throw up. I clamped my hands over my mouth (like that would help). If there is a way to vomit discreetly, I don’t know it. It’s kind of like making love: if you can do it quietly, you’re not really doing it.

I swallowed over and over with the juices flowing into my mouth faster than I could get them down. I had no idea where Mekrath was. I grabbed the hilt of my sword for comfort and squeezed it hard. A few more swallows and I felt good enough to pay some actual semi-panicky attention to my surroundings. Luckily, we seemed to be alone.

The room was large, carved out of glowing pale rock, or something that resembled rock. No windows. Was this a cave? I couldn’t see the gate back to the Five Flagons but surely it was nearby. A couple of hard ugly benches lined one wall, and a short raised platform was at the end of the room. Corridors led off in three different directions. Which one should I try? This place looked more like a nexus than a room with a dedicated purpose. Surely it wouldn’t stay empty long. How was I supposed to know what to do?

Something yanked my hair. My habit of keeping silent while invisible is ingrained but I almost yelped anyway. Mekrath whispered in my ear.

“I can’t get a fix on the gem’s location. Magic runs thick and heavy in this place and muffles my tracking spell. You’re going to have to search for it, light-fingered hero. I’ll follow behind. If I get a clue, I’ll let you know. Stay out of trouble.”

In other words, I was on my own and if I screwed up, I wouldn’t be able to give the wizard’s position away. Fine, then. Just the way I liked it. I patted myself down to make sure all my gear was still tight and wouldn’t rattle.

I’ve always found snooping and spying exhilarating. I should have been having a great time. I wasn’t. If I had known where I was and had an escape route planned, I would have felt more in control. But I had to rely on Mekrath to get me out of here and I had no way to contact him. That was nerve wracking.

Where in the Nine Hells am I? That was one question I wanted answered right away. Was this a keep or castle? An enclosed town perhaps, possibly built underground? There was an oppressive feel to the very air. Like Mekrath had said, magic was strong here—I could feel the Weave press against me like a sodden blanket. The sensation was unpleasant and once I managed to ferret out the purpose of this compound, I could guess why. This was a prison.

Great. In my experience, breaking into a prison is a damned sight easier than breaking back out again.

The prison was huge, but there weren’t as many guards as I would have expected. That’s because the prisoners each wore a magical collar with a geas built into it. The prisoners basically guarded themselves. Some of them were even armed!

This made little sense to me. Were the rules of magic different on this plane? It takes a lot of power to dominate someone day in and day out. Surely it would be easier to come up with good locks and a horde of guards than the collars and the horde of wizards that must be required to maintain so many enchantments. Perhaps the prisoners were all mages who could waft through mundane locks. Or maybe…maybe the collars were powered by the life energy of the prisoners themselves, in a tainted variation of Mekrath’s tantric geas. There did seem to be something foul about this place. I’m no paladin to be sniffing out unholiness but still, the place reeked of perversion.

But maybe that was just my uneasiness talking. My skin crawled with the need to escape. I must have followed a score of guards and listened in on a score of conversations before I finally got more useful information.

When the voices approached, I shrank against the wall, ready to back away if needed. Two fairly human-looking women came around the corner. Behind them was a huge bare-chested man pushing a barrel on a hand cart. He wore one of those chains around his neck that marked him as a prisoner. The chain was all too reminiscent of the spiked collars the gamblers in the Coronet put on their fighting dogs. Something about the man’s appearance made me think half-orc but his face looked human enough, no tusks or hairy ears. I moved carefully to the side so he wouldn’t brush against me. His nostrils flared and his head swiveled from side to side. Gods, could he smell me?

“Watch it!” one of the women snarled. “You almost ran over my heel.” She slipped a thin rod from her pocket and pressed a tab with her thumb. The big guy groaned and staggered. The woman returned the rod to her pocket. Turning to her companion, she said, “I swear, Allin, the longer these thralls are kept, the stupider they get. I wish the Warden would feed this one to his flying pet.”

“Toss him down one of the oubliettes. Who would care?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Heard some barrikin by the gate earlier. The Warden’s bashers brought in fresh meat, I’m thinking.”

“Yeah, Aawill finally scragged those actors from Sigil. Poor sods. They won’t be here long, or so I hear.”

“Why’s that?”

“Don’t know the dark of it. That’s just what I heard.”

They clattered down the hall, the thrall trudging behind with his load.

I moved along. This area appeared to be prisoner housing, and it didn’t seem likely I’d find Mekrath’s gem here.

I about jumped out of my skin when I came upon the herd of umber hulks, until I saw the almost invisible shield barrier that kept them in place. Were they prisoners, pets or guards? I thought I walked quietly but they lunged towards the shield when I passed them. I wasn’t sure if they sensed me by scent or by the vibrations of my movements. I covered my eyes, in case their gaze could pass through the barrier, and scuttled past.

I passed more cells that looked like barracks, except for the shimmering fields closing them off. After watching guards pass through the field unchecked, I discovered by ginger experimentation that I could do so as well. I suspected it was the collars the prisoners wore that kept them from leaving their cells. For the most part, the prisoners appeared to be kept in unsupervised groups, with the guards used mainly to direct work gangs. Twice I saw a couple of prisoners fighting, once over food and once for no discernable cause. Their fellows stood around egging on the violence and the lone guard who passed cast a cursory look into their cell and kept on moving.

Male prisoners seemed to outnumber female by a large number. I’ve noticed this discrepancy in every prison I’ve ever been in. (Visiting, of course. I’ve only been jailed once. Well, twice. Make that three times but the first two times weren’t my fault.) I wondered what would happen if a guard without a control rod got caught in a cell. How comprehensive was the collar’s geas anyway? I wondered what would happen if I got caught. I’d been worried about the guards but was I any safer with the prisoners? I shivered.

I moved swiftly past the various cells, which seemed to get smaller and more specialized as I moved deeper into the complex. Here was a group of githyanki, here some gnomes (I guess it made sense to keep the little folk segregated from the big folk but I wondered about the nature of their crime) and here—sweet Sune, it was the Sigil Troupe!

Their room looked more like a cheap inn room than a jail cell. This must be a holding area for special prisoners and I didn’t know if that was good news or bad. Raelis and the two actors I’d scarcely met sat at a small table. Raelis had her head in her hands. She looked pale and ill. Haer’Dalis stood apart, with his back against the wall, in a spot that gave him a view of the corridor. His face was calm and remote. His expression was so strongly reminiscent of his look when we had last made love that I felt a sudden catch in my throat.

I fancied I could feel the stare of Mekrath’s disapproval when I slipped into the tieflings’ cell. That was assuming, of course, that he was still following me. For all I knew, he’d gone back through his portal and left me here. Screw him. I crept up to Haer’Dalis.

“Psst,” I said in his ear. Before I could speak, he whirled about, his hands going to his sword belt. They’d left him his weapons. What kind of prison was this, anyway? They sure had an awful lot of confidence in those collars. “Quiet,” I whispered and I gave his arm a good hard pinch. “It’s me, Minette. Don’t say anything.”

All this activity had startled the others, of course.

“What is it, Haer’Dalis?” Raelis said. She jerked upright and looked fearfully about.

“I apologize, Miss Raelis,” he said. “I have a cramp in my leg, that is all.”

“Then walk it off,” she said, speaking with more sharpness than I had ever heard from her. He bowed with such exquisite irony that I gathered these were not her first irritated words. And by her sour look, they would not be the last.

“Thank you, I will.” He drifted off towards the back of the cell, where a privy nestled between short privacy walls. Next to that was a small sleeping room with six cots jammed in, three to a side. Haer’Dalis couldn’t see me, of course, but he held out his hand. I took it. He ran his hands up my arm, to my shoulders.

“Is it truly you?” he breathed. I stepped into his arms. His arms closed around me, gingerly in wonder, and then hard, in belief. The hilt of one of his swords dug into my side. “No, this is wrong. What madness brings you here?”

“I…” I couldn’t tell him all the truth, not about Mekrath’s presence. If I was captured, he was my only hope for escape. “Mekrath sent me after his gem.”

A complexity of emotion passed over his face—had he thought I’d come here to rescue him? I felt a flush of shame that my motives had not been so pure. I was glad I was invisible, that he couldn’t read my face.

Haer’Dalis tightened his arms around me. When he bent his head, there was a slight metallic rustle from the collar around his neck.

“My dove, the wizard has set you a difficult task. The gem has been passed on to the Warden of this prison and I do not know how you can retrieve it. He is an exceedingly dangerous man.”

“In what way?”

“He is a cambion and a wizard as well.” One hand rose towards his collar then dropped away before his fingers brushed the links. “I fear that he or that demon of his will see through the spell that cloaks you from my view.”

“His demon?” This just got better and better.

“The Master of Thralls. The demon is fearsome, Minette. He possesses the device that controls the collars of all the prisoners in this place. At his command, every one of us will turn against you. We caged birds are our own guards in this place, and the demon’s magic has placed Chaos and Entropy into his service.”

“Chaos and Entropy?”

“My swords, dove. Should the demon command me, I must fight for him. Any attempt to resist the commands of the device brings on the most excruciating pain.”

“What is this device? Have you seen it?”

“I believe the power is contained within a jewel the demon wears around his neck. I only saw it briefly when he sealed this collar to me.”

“So if I were to take this gem, I could…” I stopped. Was I proposing stealing from a demon? That sounded more than a little mad. And if I succeeded, did I propose to take his place and control the prisoners through their collars? Some of the prisoners were armed but most were not. They vastly outnumbered the guards but still…

Haer’Dalis, who seemed to be following my thoughts, murmured, “My sweet bird, were we free, many of us would require no compulsion to turn upon our captors. This is a cruel captivity, one that saps one’s will and one’s hope. Most here would do anything to escape.” His hands ran up my back. “But to set yourself against the Master of Thralls—it is a frightful risk. I would not see a chain about your fair neck. That the wizard would risk you in such a way makes me…” He took a breath and then breathed out the word, “Angry. How could he possibly value his gem over your own life and freedom?”

I had no answer to that, of course, so I rose up to kiss him. One of my hands brushed the collar and a shock singed my fingers. I jerked away, barely keeping myself from crying out in pain.

“My dove?”

“Your chain bit me.”

“Ah. We are under geas not to handle the collar but I did not realize that it protects itself from others as well. That is logical, I suppose.”

I leaned into him to take a better look at the collar. The protection felt electrical in nature. Surely its charges were not unlimited and could be discharged.

“I don’t suppose you have a pair of gloves on you,” I asked.

“No. What did you—no, you must not attempt this, Minette. I cannot allow…”

Would the geas force him to stop me from exploring the collar? I wrapped my handkerchief around my hand and pulled my good dagger.

“Hold still. You’re alone, remember? I’m not here and I’m not doing anything. Close your eyes and meditate or something.”

“Meditate?”

“Act, actor. There’s nobody here but you and your thoughts.”

I touched the blade to his collar. I could still feel the shock but it didn’t bite quite so hard, or so it seemed. I tried again. And again. And a dozen more times. By the time the protection spell was depleted, my hand was so numb that I’d dropped the dagger three times. I picked it up in my off hand.

“Now,” I whispered. “Hold very, very still.”

I wiggled the point of the blade between two spiky links and twisted. The links were tougher than they looked; the tip of my blade snapped off. This was an enchanted blade; that wasn’t supposed to happen. I swallowed a curse and tried again. The blade slipped. If I wasn’t careful, I might give Haer’Dalis a nasty cut. A dagger was the wrong tool for this. I needed the small pry bar I’d left in my room at the guild house. I looked around and didn’t see anything that would make a useful substitute.

“Kneel down for a moment.”

He did so without questioning me. I brushed his hair out of the way. My hands are strong but they needed to be stronger. Luckily I had just the spell for that. A few whispered words, and as the power surged into me, I thrust the blade as far as it would go into one of the links and used both hands to twist it.

Haer’Dalis’s head jerked back from the pressure on the collar. A little more…a little more…oh gods, my grip wasn’t good enough…or was it?

When the link broke, it released a silent blast of energy that threw me backwards. I hit the bed behind me and slammed it against the wall. Splinters of my expensive blade tinkled to the floor; what was left in my hand was the mundane hilt.

The collar dropped into Haer’Dalis’s hands. He gave it a wondering look.

“What was that?” Raelis’s voice was sharp and frightened.

“My clumsiness, Miss Raelis, nothing more.”

She made an exasperated sound but seemed satisfied. My head rang from the backlash of the spell on the collar. It had been damned potent. Haer’Dalis, feeling around with his hands, finally found my knee. He ran his hands up my body as I sat up.

“My dove,” he whispered. “Are you hurt?”

“Only half-fried,” I muttered. He gripped me harder. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“Minette, ‘twas a valiant effort yet a foolish one,” he said. “If anyone sees I’ve been freed, I will be collared again.” He cast an uneasy look towards the other room. “Even my companions can be turned against me, to hinder or to inform.”

“Give me the collar.” I tore a strip from my handkerchief and used it to tie his collar back in place. “If anyone examines this closely, the gig’s up but maybe the guards won’t notice the difference. Just act like you’re controlled until you get a chance to escape.”
He brought my hands to his lips.

“I must go,” I whispered. “If there’s a way I can…”

“No. Make no promises. You have already given me the ghost of a hope.” I pressed his hand before I flitted out of the room.

So this pocket hell had a demon, and if the collars were his work, a very powerful one he was. Great. I did not want to tangle with a demon. What I needed was a map of this compound so I could plot a way around the fiend. What I needed was a way around the demon and the cambion both, so I could lift the gem and sneak out with my skin intact. Of course, that would mean leaving Haer’Dalis and the others to their fate. I’d done what I could to help. Hadn’t I? Did I look like a hero who could take on a demon?

Argh. I tried not to grind my teeth. This was a really, really bad time to grow a conscience. I knew it. And Mekrath knew it. He pounced on me as soon as I slid out of the tieflings’ cell. With a yank of my hair (I really wished he’d stop doing that) he steered me into an alcove.

“You were in there a very long time,” he whispered. Was that an accusation? Maybe he thought I’d stopped for a quickie. Instead of the various sharp remarks that came to mind, I told him what I’d learned from Haer’Dalis. There was a long silence. I wished I could see his face.

“A demon and a cambion,” he finally said. “This does not sound good.”

“No shit! Still…there aren’t many guards here. They rely on those collars to keep everyone in line. If we could block the magic to the collars…”

“Yes, yes, the place would collapse. We are not here to instigate a prison revolt, Minette.”

“Well, I don’t want to tangle with a demon. Is getting your gem back so damned important?”

“Now more than ever. I made great sacrifices to obtain that gem; sacrifices that unfortunately left it tied to my own magic. Leaving the gem in the hands of a demon or even another mage like this cambion opens me up to greater risk than I care to permit. So put those clever fingers of yours to work. The sooner we get out of here the better.”

“I’m open to suggestion,” I said drily.

“Find the gem. At that point, our strategy should become obvious.”

In other words, he had no more idea than I did. Clueless berks, both of us. Oh, well, if you can’t go back, go on.

I knew I was getting close when the rooms began sporting actual doors instead of the clear shields and the guards became both more plentiful and less busy. The surroundings were plusher as well and most telling of all, no collars in sight.

Where the doors were open, I slipped inside for a quick peek. This corridor seemed to contain offices or work areas. Where would the Warden keep the gem—in his personal quarters or in a treasure room of some sort? I supposed that depended upon what value he placed upon it and what use he had for it.

Raised voices caught my attention and once I heard the word ‘Warden’ mentioned, I soft-footed my way closer to eavesdrop.

“Hey, Rathe, you don’t want to let me see him, no problem. Take him a message then.”

“The Warden can’t be disturbed.”

“Can’t be disturbed, my ass. Stir your stumps, leatherhead, or there’ll be trouble. I’ve got the Warden’s bounty hunters squawking for their pay and Darkwood’s men shouting for their prisoners.”

“They’re early.”

“You want to have them telling the Duke you said that? Think they should be as butt-lazy as you, Rathe? Tell them that to their face, berk. They’re a right ugly looking bunch.”

“We’re talking about a handful of actors. What’s the sodding rush?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. But they’ve already paid; reckon they think they’re entitled to their goods.”

“Hand ‘em over then.”

“No can do. Haven’t been released into general population, now, have they? Won’t come along to my rod, now, will they? Unless you plan on handing me the Master Orb, I need them to be processed. And besides, I need the Warden’s seal on the paperwork. And don’t forget the jink for the bashers.”

“Go see the Master of Thralls.”

“Think I’m addle-coved?” The fellow gave an exaggerated shudder. “Don’t get paid enough for that.”

“Then come back tomorrow.” Then Rathe leaned closer and dropped his voice. I crept closer myself. “Here’s the dark. Warden’s just summoned him up a succubus, see? They’re in his chamber right now, buffing every horizontal surface, if you catch my drift. I’m not going in there, and if you’re smart, you won’t either.”

“I, ah, yeah, I get your point. I’ll let Aawill and the other bashers know. They won’t want to cross the Warden. But see, I’ve got the duke’s men raising Nine Hells in the visitor’s lobby. What am I supposed to do with them?”

“How should I know? Use your brain-box for something other than keeping your ears warm. Get them a room. Send in some razorwine. Issue them a guest rod and let them amuse themselves with the thralls.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Now go roll your cap on out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

I hugged the wall and waited. Once the messenger took himself off, still muttering under his breath, Rathe, who I assumed was the Warden’s secretary, gave a surreptitious look around and then apparently decided to award himself the afternoon off.

As soon as he’d hurried away, I tried the door. It wasn’t even locked! Things weren’t going to get any better than this. I opened the door a crack. Silence. I slid inside and eased the door closed. I was in the Warden’s sitting room. There was a desk along one side, and a couple of chairs next to a high table that looked like a bar. There was another door and it was also closed. This one was locked and when I put my ear against it, I heard nothing.

The bar had little of interest (although the thought of a quick drink held some appeal—my nerves were shot). The desk was unlocked. I rifled through it. I found a heavy metallic cylinder that tingled with magic and had a dark smear on the end that looked like blood. I got all excited for a moment until I decided it was the Warden’s seal, a prize for the in-house peculators but of no use to me. Other than that, the desk was a bust. Plenty of paper but no gem, no keys, and no control rods. Not even any loose coin to scoop up.

I didn’t see a trap on the inner door. The lock was intricate and strange but I managed to pick it open. I didn’t hear the moans through the thick, heavy door until I cracked it open. I crouched low while my eyes adjusted to the dim light. My invisibility still held but I was scared the cambion might see right through it somehow, like Haer’Dalis had warned me.

But it looked like the cambion was a mite busy at the moment, assuming that those pumping muscular buttocks were his. I didn’t really want to look. I’m not much of a spectator—if I can’t play I’m not interested in the game—but why was he standing by the bed instead of lying in it? And was that a cloak hanging off his arm? No, that was one of the succubus’s leathery wings. I couldn’t quite make sense of the position at first. Was she bent over that chest? I blinked. Oh, my. Well, she certainly was limber. And he certainly was big. Broad back, slim hips, tall—my goodness, he was tall—and big. The succubus’s wings shifted, the cambion pulled back and I got an eyeful. I’ve seen some big serpents but his took the trophy. He wasn’t a fun kind of big, like Haer’Dalis; he was definitely the scary kind of big. Was this what fiendish blood did to a man? Yikes.

I shook my head to try to get it back on my job. Where was the gem? And how could I get it without being seen? At least I didn’t have to do anything to distract the Warden.

There was so much magic in the room that I couldn’t get a read on the gem. Well, I had eyes, didn’t I? A good place to start seemed to be the clothes strewn across the floor. I crept over to his breeches, felt the pockets. Nothing. I lifted up my head to look about. Where would he empty his pockets? The dresser seemed an obvious choice.

Softly, softly, I padded around the huge empty bed to check the top of the tall dresser. A carved tray looked promising. I stretched up to peek into it and something blue winked back at me. My breath caught in my throat. The gem! Could it really be so easy? I took it gingerly in my hand, slid it into my pants pocket…

“Oi! You there! We’re looking for the Warden.”

My heart did that jerk of utter terror that no doubt shortens the lifespan of thieves everywhere. The door I’d carefully closed behind me now stood wide open. Two men blocked the way out—two of the bounty hunters, the half-elf and his tiefling sidekick. They weren’t looking at me though. My invisibility spell still held.

The cambion whipped his head around. His expression was ferocious. I saw the look of stunned horror on the half-elf’s face as he realized what he had just walked into.

“Ah, sorry there, my lord. I thought…I was looking for…we just wanted…” He tried to back out but Goat-boy was too busy staring at the succubus to clear the door. I slunk back against the dresser and my lips moved in fervent prayer. Mystra and Tymora, I swear I will be more faithful and careful in the future if you get me out of this now!

“How did you get in here, Aawill?” the Warden thundered. The half-elf made a helpless wave at the door. The Warden’s voice became more ominous. “That door was locked.”

“N…no, my lord. It was not.”

The Warden frowned. The succubus made a cry of protest when he pulled himself out of her. He strode towards the bounty hunters.

“You dare to lie to me?”

The look on their faces made it clear they didn’t dare even speak. I didn’t dare even breathe. The Warden slowly swung his head about the room and frowned. Could he see me? I couldn’t tell by his expression. He spoke several guttural words and gestured. He cast a dispel that stripped away my invisibility and my spell protections as well.

It’s always seemed to me that people who faint from terror miss out on some really nightmarish moments. Like the one where the cambion lifted me up with one huge hand and shook me like a rat.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Minette,” I squeaked, too stupid to think of a false name. Not like it really mattered. “I…uh…I…” For a moment, I’d forgotten the secretary’s name but it popped back to me. “Rathe sent me. He needed something signed…I’ll come back later when you’re not so, uh, so busy.”

“She’s lying,” the succubus said.

“She damn sure is,” said the half-elf. “That’s the berk we found with the actors when we nabbed them off the Prime.”

What happened next was not very pretty.