Finder's Bane - Kate Novak [92]
The colors of the land were unusual as well-pale and indistinct. When Joel focused on any one feature of the landscape, its color seemed to blur with the background.
"Painted by a mad and myopic god with a muddy palette," Jedidiah joked. "Or maybe it's just faded from a thousand too many launderings, eh?"
Walinda, who had joined the priests at the railing, soon turned away, looking disturbed. "It's horrible," she said.
"It's not that bad," Joel replied.
"There is no order, no reason," Walinda insisted.
"But it's so interesting, so… wild," Joel argued.
"Forget it, Joel," Jedidiah said. "You'll never get a Banite to appreciate the beauty of chaos."
"It's a beautiful sky," Joel pointed out to the priestess. "Bright and blue."
"There's no sun," Walinda said. "It's broad daylight, yet there is no sun."
Joel searched the sky and the horizon carefully. Far off in the distance, a great brown spire rose from the horizon, reaching so far into the sky that clouds obscured its summit. But Walinda was right. There was no sun.
"Well, the air is good," Joel said. Indeed the air felt fresh, as if it had just been created and never breathed before by any other living creature. It made his skin tingle. At first he thought he was just noting the different between the hot, dry air of the desert and the cool, moist air of the Outlands, but the sensation persisted. There was a vitality to this plane he could sense.
Walinda shrugged, indifferent to the air. "My lord Bane said there are gods who make their homes here. Why would they choose such a place?" she asked.
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Jedidiah said. winking at Joel. "In this case, the beholder would be Gzemnid, god of the eye tyrants. He makes his home in this plane. Judging from the chaotic landscape, I'd guess we're not too far from his realm. Other parts of this plane are very different. All the outer planes have at least one gate leading to the Outlands. The area surrounding each gate takes on characteristics of the plane to which it leads. For instance, in the far-off city of Rigus, there's a gate to Acheron, where your lord Bane made his home before he became a corpse floating in the astral plane. Everyone in Rigus has a rank: slave soldier, citizen, private, sergeant, lieutenant, captain, general. You'd feel right at home."
The ship drifted downward, settling in a rocky field where the ground was ridged and uneven, like a frozen, choppy sea.
The banelich came out of the cabin and walked toward the bow. It stopped at the railing and flung one skeletal arm in the direction of the great spire that rose beyond the horizon. "Lo!" it bellowed.
"Hello, yourself," Jedidiah replied with a grin.
The banelich ignored the taunt. "There," the creature announced, "is our goal. Upon that peak rests the city of Sigil, wherein is hid the Hand of Bane. We will besiege the city to reclaim what is mine, and with it, my power."
As if on cue, the clouds about the spire drifted outward, revealing the spire's summit. Floating above the summit was a huge circular ring.
Jedidiah guffawed.
The banelich frowned and wheeled about to face the priest.
Jedidiah continued to laugh, long and hard, clutching his side.
"I said nothing amusing," the banelich declared coldly.
Jedidiah took a few deep breaths and managed to control himself. He wiped a tear from one eye. He had to stifle one last giggle before he finally became serious once more. "No," he replied at last. "Of course you didn't say anything