Forsaken House (11 page)

“Whyllwyst died eight years ago,” Araevin said. “I have

no familiar now.”

Grayth looked up and said with a grimace, “I know that’s hard on a wizard, Araevin. I’m sorry. Come, we’ll speak of lighter things.”

The cleric motioned the two sun elves to a sturdy wooden table and bench, and sat down opposite them.

Another man was waiting for them, a strapping young fellow with sandy-blond hair and wide blue eyes. He was dressed like Grayth in the cassock of a priest of Lathander, but his robes were orange and yellow, and the emblem on his tunic was a simple half-disc of white.

“This is Brant Rethalshield,” Grayth said, “an aspirant to the Order of the Aster, the knights templar of the Morninglord’s faith. He is my squire. Brant, this is Araevin Teshurr and Lady Ilsevele Miritar.”

Ai aevin took the young man’s hand, noticing the well-worn calluses of a swordsman.

“A pleasure to meet you, Brant,” he said.

The young fellow returned his handclasp and said, “And you, sir. The High Mornmaster has told me many stories of his adventures in your company.”

“So you’ve simply been studying your spellbooks back on Evermeet all this time?” Grayth asked

“I’ve found a few things to busy myself with, but I haven’t been back to Faeran since the Year of the Worm.”

Araevin studied Grayth’s accoutrements and added, “I see you have risen in Lathander’s church in the last eighteen years. What of you? How are you faring? Have you heard from others of the company?”

“I am well enough, as you can see. I traveled a few more years after we parted. In fact, I rode all the way to Thesk in Icing Azoun’s crusade against the Tuigan Horde, but my superiors in the order kept asking me to take on more and more responsibility. So for some time now I have devoted myself to serving in the Morninglord’s temples, as I have been called to do.” A brief shadow flickered across the human’s face. “I settled down and was even married for a time, but no longer. I have two fine sons, though-ten and seven. They live with their mother. I visit them whenever I can.”

“I hope I get the chance to meet them someday,” Araevin said, though his heart wasn’t in it.

He had always felt a little odd around human children. A long time ago, when he’d been only a hundred or so, he’d struck up quite a friendship with a little girl named Senda, the daughter of a human merchant he dealt with in his travels. She’d lived to seventy years of age … and she’d been dead already for longer than she’d lived. Yet still he remembered a tiny slip of a girl with long curls of golden hair and eyes that danced with mischief when she laughed at his pointed ears. He might well live to see Grayth’s sons, and their sons and grandsons too, pass from the world. Araevin felt his eyes growing damp and quickly changed the topic.

“What of the others?”

“Darthen’s done well for himself. He’s the lord of a small hold near Scornubel, with a lovely wife and a whole tower-full of children. I spoke with him after receiving your message. He will not come, Araevin.” Grayth sighed and continued, “He said that his duties did not permit him to respond, but that you could come to him for anything you needed, and he would do his best. He also told me to

tell you to make sure to visit him, if you’ll be staying in Faerun for any time.”

“I hope to do that,” Araevin replied, concealing his disappointment. The Company of the White Star had parted with an agreement to come together if called, but none of them were sworn to it. If he needed Darthen badly enough, he might try to change his old comrade’s mind, but it sounded as if the human knight had responsibilities he could not easily lay aside. “He would have come if he could have, I suppose. What of Belmora?”

Grayth sighed again, then said, “Belmora is dead. She went back to her clan-hold in the North, and I understand that she died in battle against an orc warband.”

Araevin bowed his head. He’d always liked Belmora, even though she was irascible, stubborn, and every bit as abrasive as dwarves were supposed to be. The news didn’t surprise him, really. The redoubtable dwarf priestess had always spoken of returning to her mountain home to drive away the orc tribes.

“She was a stout companion,” he said. “Her heart was true and strong. What about Theleda?”

“I have not heard from her for ten years now, I guess.” The human shrugged and said, “She lived in Waterdeep for a time, living well off the treasure we garnered back in our day. She owned a tavern, and provisioned caravans and merchant ships on the side. I suspect that one of the guilds ran her out of town.”

“It doesn’t seem likely that she will show up, then.”

Araevin leaned back against the wall and sighed. Out of the four companions he had parted with in that very inn eighteen years past, only one had answered his call. One dead, one missing, and one simply unable or unwilling to come.

I waited too long, he realized. Of course I thought nothing of leaving them behind me for twenty years, but humans don’t make light of such a span, do they?

“Grayth,” Araevin said, “thank you for answering.”

The Lathanderite waved his hand and replied, “I live in Waterdeep. It’s only a couple of days up the road, so it wasn’t any trouble to make the journey. Besides, I’ve been looking for an excuse to get out of the temple for some time, I think.”

The inn’s keeper, a heavyset dwarf with a rough set of white whiskers and a beet-red nose, brought them a large earthenware jug of wine and a set of clay cups.

“Your wine, High Mornmaster,” he said to Grayth. “I’ve just started a roast for you and your friends, so it will be a time, but I’ll have Nanda bring out some cheese and bread for you. Welcome to the Dragonback, sir and miss. It’s an honor to have the Fair Folk under my roof.”

“It’s a pleasure to find a good inn,” Araevin replied. The dwarf bowed and withdrew.

Grayth filled the clay cups with wine from the jug and asked, “So, Araevin, what is it that led you to summon us again? What in Faerun has caught your attention after eighteen years in Evermeet?”

“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” Araevin said. His eyes hardened, and his voice grew colder. “A few days ago, a band of demons attacked my Tower in Evermeet. I think they were looking for this.” He fished the telkiira out of his pouch and showed it to Grayth and Brant. “More stones like this are buried in an ancient vault of my people. This stone has provided me with a map of sorts leading to its sisters. But I don’t know why our enemies wanted this stone, or even who our enemies are, for that matter. If I find the rest of the set and unravel this riddle, I may learn more about our adversaries. We understand nothing about them now.”

“And you thought that the Company of the White Star might be able to help you find more of your magic gemstones,” Grayth observed.

“Well, yes,” Araevin said. “But … but I hadn’t realized how much time had gone by. Darthen has his steading to govern, and I think you have become a man with responsibilities, too.”

The High Mornmaster offered a wry smile and said, “Let me be the judge of my responsibilities, Araevin. I’ve spent too much time lately telling others what they need to go do. Some time away from the temple might be just the renewal that Lathander intends for me.”

“We would not want you to get into trouble with your superiors,” Ilsevele said.

“You think I’m too old for such nonsense, you mean,” Grayth said. He nodded at Araevin. “I seem to recall that I’m a good two hundred years younger than him. I might not be as old as you think. Now, why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what exactly has brought you back

to Faerun? I doubt you’ll have any luck w

the company, but I am with you, Araevin the others of

Despite the gray skies and winter chill, the gardens of the royal palace in Leuthilspar were green and lush. The gardens of Moonflower Palace were said to be blessed by the Seldarine, and Seiveril could well believe it. He had never asked Corellon Larethian the truth of the tale, but some myths did not need to be examined, did they? He chose to simply admire the perfection of the palace grounds without permitting himself to wonder how it was done, and followed the palace chamberlain through the green maze.

The chamberlain led him to an ivy-covered arbor beside

a still, dark pool.

“Your majesty?” the young elf called softly. “Lord Seiveril Miritar is here.”

Queen Amlaruil stood by a stone balustrade at the far

end of the arbor, gazing absently into the water. Her long, dark hair was bound in a simple braid, and she wore a plain but elegant dress of green felt not much different than any elf lass might have worn to visit a friend for an afternoon. For a moment she seemed just a pensive young girl in a garden, no more than twenty or thirty, but when she glanced up, Seiveril felt the full weight of the starry wisdom in her dark eyes.

“Thank you, Dremel. You may go,” the queen said.

The chamberlain bowed and withdrew. Seiveril murmured a word of thanks as well, and crossed the arbor to bow deeply a short distance from the queen.

“You sent for me, my lady?”

“Oh, stand up straight, Seiveril. You’ve known me far too long to genuflect like that.”

“As you wish,” the nobleman said. He joined Amlaruil at the rail and studied the setting. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this corner of the garden.”

“I come here often,” the queen said. “The garden has a way of guiding my thoughts, suggesting answers to questions I haven’t asked yet. I feel Zaor’s hand here.”

Seiveril nodded. He could, as well. King Zaor Moonflower, Amlaruil’s husband, had ruled Evermeet well for hundreds of years. But he had died at the hands of a sun elf assassin more than forty years before, leaving Amlaruil to govern alone. She had ruled well and wisely, too. In fact, Evermeet might have fallen to Kymil Nime sin’s treachery and invasion three years past, if not for Amlaruil’s firm leadership and personal courage. But the tale of Zaor and Amlaruil’s centuries-spanning love and devotion to each other was known to all Evermeet.

“I have seen the Gatekeeper’s Crystal, Seiveril,” she said. “Not clearly, mind you. Someone is working hard to deflect our divinations. As you feared, our enemies assembled the three shards of the device and used it to undo a powerful, ancient ward.”

“Where?” Seiveril asked.

“I do not know the place. It was a rocky for surrounded by a great woodland … I saw that much. I think it was an old stronghold of some kind, broken open by the power of the device.”

“That seems ominous, to say the least.” Seiveril frowned. “We should send word to Evereska and the other realms in Faerun, warning them. Maybe your vision will mean something to them.”

“There is this: My divinations also revealed that the crystal has again been scattered. “

“Thank the Seldarine for that. Evermeet is safe from that threat, at least.”

“Perhaps,” Amlaruil said, “but who knows where our enemy’s road now leads? I will not consider Evermeet safe until we have at least one of those shards back in our hands, and I know exactly who wielded the device and where.”

“I can answer that question, at least in part,” said Seiveril. “I have communed with the Seldarine, and I have a name for our foes: the Dlardrageths, the daemonfey. Araevin’s report of the raid on Tower Reilloch reminded me of the old stories about the Dlardrageth palace in Myth Drannor. It seems that my suspicions were well founded.”

“Who are they?” Amlaruil asked.

“A House of sun elves who were influential in ancient Arcorar. They trafficked with demons for the power to seize control of that realm, but were found out. The Coronal of Arcorar destroyed their House, but some escaped to ancient Siluvanede, where they lured a number of lesser Houses into evil, as well.” Seiveril spread his hands. “Supposedly they were dealt with in the Seven Citadels’ War. In any event, I can find no more mention of them in any records since that time.”

“Siluvanede fell five thousand years ago,” the queen observed. “Do you believe anything could vanish so completely for so long?”

“Evidently they did. I cannot explain it. Perhaps even the Seldarine do not know their tale. But I am certain that we are dealing with the Dlardrageths, or their heirs.”

Amlaruil nodded and said, “Very well, then. We will find out where they are hiding, we will recover what they have stolen, and we will root out this ancient evil.”

Seiveril sighed and looked up from the still waters of the pool to meet Amlaruil’s gaze directly. Even though he was a full four centuries in age, and a high priest of Corellon Larethian, he did not find it easy to do.

“Even that will not be sufficient to secure Evermeet’s safety, Amlaruil,” he said. “This time it was the Gatekeeper’s Crystal. Three years ago, it was the treachery of Kymil Nimesin. In a year, or two, or ten, it will be something else. We withdrew all our strength from Cormanthor in the Retreat and virtually abandoned Faerun to whatever fate the other speaking peoples forge for themselves, and still evil follows us here. Whatever refuge we have found here is little more than a temporary reprieve from the workings of the world beyond.”

“I know that, Seiveril,” Amlaruil said wearily. “I cannot walk in this garden without remembering the day Zaor died here. But what would you have me do? Even if I could undo the Retreat and open Evermeet’s shores to the world outside, there are those on the council who would rise in open rebellion if I were to make the attempt.”

“Durothil and Veldann. And their allies.”

“You named them, not I,” said Amlaruil. “Nor will I name them, unless I must. Sun elves comprise half of Evermeet’s people, and almost a third of the sun elf Houses are in Durothil’s camp. I must take great care

when I act against the wishes of the powerful Houses on the council.”

The queen sighed and turned away from the pool, moving over to take a seat on a nearby bench of marble.

“In all fairness,” she said, “I must concede that the isolationists possess a persuasive argument. Less than five years ago, we boasted more than two hundred high mages in Evermeet. But Kymil Nimesin’s attack on the Towers of the Sun and Moon, and our expedition to aid Evereska against the phaerimm two years ago, cost us dearly in this irreplaceable resource. We have fewer than