“I will find him. And when I do . . .”
Suddenly the image shifted and there upon the rocks of Widow’s Point a gathering of creatures from the lowest depths of hell stood arrayed. James could barely resist the urge to speak, for he recognized some of these creatures, but others were even more fearsome and powerful. Finally, he whispered, “Who is that?”
Hilda said, “A mage of most puissant and dark powers, boy. I know not his name, but I know his handiwork, and he is allied with forces even darker than those you see in the image. Watch and learn.”
The man turned to face the assembled creatures, and James’s eyes widened as he saw his own body lying on the rocks, his chest torn open as if by a great hand. Nearby lay Solon and Jazhara. Still alive but bound like a calf to the slaughter, Kendaric struggled against his ropes. A massive amulet with a blood-red ruby hung from a chain around the man’s neck. And in one hand he held a long blade of black. In the other he held a huge stone of ice blue. Solon whispered, “The Tear!”
With a single motion, the magician knelt and cut into Kendaric’s chest, then plunged his hand into the cavity and ripped out Kendaric’s heart. Holding the still-beating organ, he dripped blood over the Tear as the magician turned to show it to the demons. The Tear’s color changed from ice blue to blood red and the throng shouted in triumph. Suddenly, the picture vanished.
Hilda said, “Don’t let these visions overwhelm you.”
Kendaric sounded on the edge of hysteria. “But they’re going to kill me! Us!”
Hilda said, “They’re going to try, boy. But the future is not set in stone. And evil is most adept at seeing what it wants to see. That’s its weakness. It doesn’t anticipate the possibility of failure. And now you do; and more, you know the price of your failure.”
“Then these visions . . . ?” asked Jazhara.
“Serve as a warning. You now know more about your enemy, and what he plans, than he does about you. He knows you seek to recover the Tear of the Gods - “
Solon’s hand dropped to his warhammer. “How do you know this, woman?”
Hilda waved her hand dismissively. “You are not the only ones who know how the universe plays, Ishapian. I was old before your grandmother was born and if the gods are kind, I’ll live until your grandchildren die. But if I do not, I will have been a servant of good in my own way, and that contents me. Perhaps it is my fate only to be here to teach you, and after you succeed or fail, I will end my days. I do not know. But I do know that should you fail, I will not be alone in meeting a terrible ending.
“Always remember, visions are potent magic, but even the best of visions is only an illusion, a reflection of possibilities. You still can change your future. And you must!” She rose. “Now go, for time is short and there is much you must do. That creature you saw is called a liche in the old tongue. He is alive by the most powerful and blackest arts. He will lead you to whatever it is that prevents you from raising the ship. You must find him, destroy him, and end the plague that causes sailors to be entombed in their drowned vessels, servants of darkness to walk the night, and old women to have bad dreams. And you must do so before the other appears, for he is even more dangerous, I judge, and for him to have that amulet . . . well, you saw what he plans.”
Hilda stood and walked over to the now-cool skillet. “Brother Solon, the talisman, if you please.”
Solon took the pouch from inside his tunic. At Hilda’s instruction, he held open the sack as the old woman positioned a small silver funnel over the pouch’s mouth and poured the ashen remains of the vampire hand into the bag. Taking the pouch from Solon, Hilda retied the strings, murmured a brief incantation, and shook the bag before handing it back to the monk.
“Now,” she said, “you have the key to the temple. To use it, you must make the following pattern at the rock-face door.” She traced a pattern in the air, a simple weaving of four movements. “Then the door should open.”
Jazhara said, “Please show us again.”
Hilda repeated the pattern and James and Jazhara both nodded.
Jazhara took the old woman’s hand. “You are truly amazing. You are a storehouse of wisdom.” She glanced around. “When I first entered this place, I was astonished by your knowledge of medicinal and magical herbs and plants. Now I see you have much more to offer. I will return when we are done and tell you of Stardock. It would profit the world for you to join the community there and share your wisdom.”
The old woman smiled, but there was a shadow of doubt in her eyes. “First return, girl. Then we’ll talk.”
Jazhara nodded and then followed the others outside.
The old woman watched them retreat. When they had at last vanished into the trees, she moved back to the fire, for she felt a chill, in spite of the warmth of the sun.