Song of the Saurials - Kate Novak [148]
The air of the plane might have been warm before he arrived, but around his freezing dagger it remained chill. In the sky overhead, he could see a line of receding spheres, like pearls spread out on an invisible string, all glowing a dull red. There was a different sphere of Tarterus for every world in the prime material plane. He was on the sphere connected to the Realms, and somewhere out there was the sphere of Tarterus that was linked to the saurial's home world.
There was air between the spheres, and he could fly from this sphere of Tar-terus to the saurials' sphere of Tarterus, but that was not his destination.
The light from his half of the finder's stone glowed much more dimly in this place, like a candle burning in a nearly airless room. The bard could just barely pick out the trace of the beam of light indicating Akabar's direction.
Finder flew along its path. The light led to the river's edge and stopped.
He would have to take a boat, he realized. If he tried to travel by himself, he would attract the attention of the myriad of evil creatures that dwelled in this plane, creatures like Phalse, who captured fools like Dragonbait and himself who traveled where they shouldn't. Even if he could keep from the notice of such creatures, he could easily get lost in this place and wander for centuries.
He had only a vague idea of how one went about summoning Charon, the Boatman of the Styx. It required some magical spells that he didn't possess. In lieu of that, Finder decided to try the only other magic he had beyond the broken finder's stone and the dagger he might still need to use to wrest Akabar from Moander's grasp. He pulled the horn of blasting from his belt. If it failed to bring Charon, it might at least hail one of the lesser boatmen who carried passengers along the river.
Finder didn't trigger the instrument's destructive magic, but blew into it as he would a normal horn. He blew a fanfare he'd once composed in honor of a legion of soldiers who had all been killed in a single day in battle. It seemed an appropriate tune for this place. Then he waited.
In less than a minute, the black water began to churn and froth; then a heavy, sparkling silver mist appeared upriver and drifted downstream with the current.
As the mist drew closer, Finder could just barely make out the pointed bow of a boat shrouded within it. Then suddenly the boat, as black as the water of the Styx, emerged from the silver mist, and the mist dissolved into nothingness.
A single boatman stood in the back of the boat and steered it toward the shore with a pole. The boat halted beside Finder, and the boatman held it stationary without any apparent effort, despite the swift current that flowed around it.
Finder's eyes widened at the sight of the boatman. It was Charon himself, not one of his helpers. The Lord of the Styx wore a full-length hooded cloak of black silk, trimmed with ermine. Beneath the hood, his face was haggard and his eyes glowed a fiery red. The hands that held the pole were nearly skeletal. The figure stood in the boat without speaking.
"I'm Finder Wyvernspur," the bard explained. "I'm seeking Akabar Bel Akash. He has been taken by the god Moander, who dwells in the Abyss."
Charon held out his palm.
"Will you take this horn in payment?" the bard asked.
Charon motioned for Finder to blow the horn again.
Finder repeated the fanfare for the dead legion of soldiers.
Charon nodded and held out his hand. Finder laid the horn in the boatman's palm, taking care not to touch his flesh. Charon set the horn down at his feet and motioned for Finder to come aboard. The bard floated over the boat and took care to settle himself down into it gently, but he was still surprised that the boat didn't rock at all from his weight. The boat was completely dry inside and empty save for him, the boatman, and the horn. Finder sat facing forward so he wouldn't be forced to stare at Charon, whose eyes