Crypt of the Shadowking

Nineteen

As the lord steward Snake spoke a harsh word of magic, the pale, egg-shaped crystal went dark in his hand. A leering smile touched his lipless mouth. He was most pleased with this surprising turn of events. Neither Ravendas nor the Harpers could dare stand against him now.

Snake wrapped the crystal in a velvet cloth, tucking it into the pocket of his poison green robes. He walked from his room and ascended the tower's spiral staircase until he reached Ravendas's chamber. The guards permitted him to enter, and he found Ravendas sitting by the west window, gazing out over the city with her azure eyes. She was dressed entirely in black velvet-shirt, doublet, and breeches-a man's clothing.

Her chamber was neater than it had been earlier in the morning. After Ravendas had learned of Caldorien's escape from the dungeon, there had not been a breakable object in the room that had escaped her wrath. The servants had cleaned up the shards of crystal and porcelain, however, and now Lord Ravendas's face was as pale and placid as alabaster. But there was death in her cold blue eyes, Snake noted. Hatred and death.

"My lord, may I speak with you?" Snake said in his sibilant voice. Ravendas was silent for a long moment, until finally she nodded, turning her head and her cold gaze upon him.

"Speak."

"My lord, there is a plot of insurrection in your city."

"Is this so, my lord steward? And who might I ask are the perpetrators who dare to attempt such a bold affront against me?" She smiled, red lips pulling back from white teeth. "As if I might not guess."

"It is not only Caldorien, my lord, but also his cohorts."

"Ah yes, Caledan's 'Fellowship.'" Ravendas sneered.

Snake nodded. "The Harper woman plots to free the prisoners in your dungeon. If this were to happen, the entire city would erupt in rebellion."

Ravendas tapped the fine line of her jaw. "This is intriguing news, my lord steward. Do you know where this Harper, Al'maren, can be found?"

"No. She is hiding somewhere within the city, my lord. The traitor was reluctant to reveal any further details."

“Traitor?"

"One who is close to Caldorien," Snake explained. "Any more than this the traitor would not reveal to me."

Ravendas stood and paced before the window with catlike grace. With her shoulder-length golden hair and the black doublet and breeches, she looked almost like a fair young man, a prince from a Cormyrian court perhaps. "What else has this traitor told you?"

"The attempt to free the prisoners will be made tomorrow, on the night of the moon's dark."

Ravendas turned this news over in her head. "Very well, my lord steward," she said crisply. "Let them plan their little insurrection. I shall be ready for them. But do keep in contact with this traitor of yours. I shall be eager for more information."

"As you wish, my lord." Snake bowed his head, starting to walk from the chamber.

"And, Snake," Ravendas called after him, "send Kellen to me. I want to be certain that my son is fully prepared for tomorrow."

Snake hesitated for a moment. "Yes, my lord," he said, then walked from the room, leaving Ravendas smiling with self-satisfaction.

The hour was late. The Dreaming Dragon was silent. Though the moon was but a thin, faint sliver, the pure light of the stars spilled in through the window of Mari's room like liquid silver. The Harper lay in her bed, wakeful, her eyes gazing out the small round window. She could see the spindly shapes of the city's towers looming dimly in the starlight like gray ghosts. Or like tombstones, she thought.

Tomorrow night was the dark of the moon. Tomorrow night everything would be decided, for good or ill.

That evening she and Cormik had finalized their plans in the secret chamber beneath the Prince and Pauper. She had expected a representative of the Purple Masks Guild to be in attendance as well but had been surprised when Guildmaster Bock himself arrived.

These last days of planning had been wearisome for Man. Tyveris had proved a great help to her with his tactical advice, but she could have used Caledan's support. However, Caledan had been silent and brooding ever since his return from the tower the day before. Something had happened to him there, something he wasn't telling the others. His eyes had a haunted look. A dozen times she had wanted to reach out to comfort him, but each time she had pulled back.

Once, for a heartbeat, she had almost thought she recognized the identical desire in his eyes. But the bitter words they had spoken at the tomb of Talek Talembar hung on the air between them, and neither had spoken.

Man tried to turn her thoughts away from Caledan. Her mission was everything now. I hope what I'm doing is right, Master Andros, she murmured inwardly.

She sighed and slipped from the bed. She was clad only in a thin nightdress and pulled her woolen cloak about her for warmth. There was going to be no sleep for her, not this night.

She opened the door of her room quietly and slipped softly down the hallway. She heard a floorboard creak above her head, probably Jolle or Ferret steadfastly keeping watch on the narrow lane that led to the Dreaming Dragon.

When she started down the stairwell to fix herself a cup of tea, she was surprised to see a flicker of firelight from below. Somebody must still be up, she realized. She stepped into the warm, firelit common room and found herself greeted by the chill gaze of the mage, Morhion.

He sat in a chair by the fire, the shadows playing across his proud features. He held a glass of pale wine in his hand, but it was full, as if he had not taken even a sip. Man hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, then moved to a chair opposite the mage. He inclined his head slightly, but said nothing.

For a time both of them sat in silence, watching the coals glowing on the hearth. Finally Mari gathered her courage and spoke. "There was no sleep for you tonight, either?"

"I have a momentous decision to make, Harper." The mage spoke softly. "Such decisions preclude sleep, I fear."

"Decision?" Mari asked. She almost thought she heard a tinge of regret in the mage's voice.

"Yes, a decision. Perhaps you can offer some guidance, Harper. Does one do what he feels is his duty, what he is bound to do? Or does one do what his secret heart whispers to him?" His eyes were intent upon her.

Mari looked away from the mage's piercing gaze. He seemed to have read her own inner struggle perfectly. She had fought long and hard to decide whether to accept her love for Caledan, even though she knew it would compromise her duties as a Harper. "I too have tried to make a decision, Morhion. But sometimes such decisions are made for you by someone else."

The mage nodded. He understood. She had pushed duty aside in favor of her heart, but the decision had been made too late.

"Caledan is not the kind who ever forgives betrayal," Morhion said. The mage did a surprising thing then. He reached out and touched her hand gently.

"Did you betray him, Morhion?"

"Yes."

They were silent for a long moment. "Tell me," she finally dared to say.

The mage stiffened. "This is something of which I have never spoken, not to anyone," he said gravely. "Never did I think there was one who might understand." His gaze flickered to her dark eyes. "Until now." Mari could not help but shiver.

The mage went on. "After Kera's murder, there was but one thought on Caledan's mind: vengeance. It was an obsession that gradually consumed him. He followed Ravendas as she fled to the Zhentarim fortress of Darkhold in the Far Hills. Somehow he managed to slip through the Darkhold defenses. This is no small feat, for these are many and perilous." A note of admiration edged Morhion's voice. "But far greater dangers awaited him within the fortress itself. He had gone to meet the spider in her lair. It was a confrontation he would never survive. Of that I had no doubt"

Morhion sighed, sipping some of the pale wine. "I followed him. Such was my decision. I allowed myself to be captured by the Zhentarim, and they took me to Ravendas for questioning. Then I revealed to her that Caledan was within the walls of Darkhold, intending to slay her."

"Did she reward you?"

"Yes," the mage said. He smiled bitterly. "She allowed me to keep my life. As the guards escorted me from the keep, I cast a spell of enchanted sleep upon them and got away. With the aid of my magic, I was able to find Caledan. He was hiding deep among the foundations. I told him what I had done. He was furious, yet he did not try to kill me-not then. Perhaps it was because, until that moment, we had been the closest of friends. Of course, that is no longer so."

"But you were trying to save him, weren't you?" Mari asked. "You knew that you couldn't convince him to leave Darkhold unless he realized it was hopeless to attack Ravendas in her lair."

"That is so. But the truth is, he wished to die, Harper."

Mari stared at the mage. Morhion paused momentarily, then went on. "He knew he would never be able to slay Ravendas and then escape Darkhold, yet that suited him. He wished to join Kera in death. I denied him that wish-I forced him to choose life. For that he has never forgiven me."

"How did you escape Darkhold?" Mari asked finally.

Morhion gave a slight start. For the first time Mari thought she understood the mage's expression. In his eyes was the look of fear.

'Tell me."

The mage's countenance turned impassive again. "Long before I journeyed to Darkhold, I had learned in an ancient tome of a black spirit that was said to haunt the caverns beneath the keep. Darkhold has a long history, Harper, stretching back through the centuries. It was built long before the Zhentarim ever set foot within its walls. Once it marked the southernmost border of a kingdom now long forgotten.

"In life, this spirit had been a knight of that kingdom, a man named Serafi. He had sought to usurp the throne, but his plot was discovered, and he was sentenced to death. Such was the dark power of his ambition that even in death he knew life, and so he was doomed for all eternity to drift through the caverns beneath Darkhold, craving that which he might never attain.

"I realized that, if anyone knew of a secret way leading out of Darkhold, it would be the undead spirit of Serafi. By means of a dark spell I summoned Serafi to me. He agreed to reveal to me a secret route through the caverns that led out of the keep. It was by means of this underground passage that Caledan and I escaped from Darkhold. But there was a price."

"A price?"

The mage lifted an arm. Slowly he drew back the sleeve of his gray robe. Mari gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth. The mage's forearm was crisscrossed with fine, pale scars. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

"Such is the fate of the restless dead that they are envious of the living," the mage said. For a moment, there was a trembling in his voice, and again the fear in his eyes. "Once each month, when the moon is full, the spirit of Serafi comes to me and drinks of my fresh, hot blood. Such is the pact I made with the vaporous spirit in payment for the knowledge he imparted to me."

Mari shuddered. "When will the pact end?" she managed to gasp. She felt ill.

The mage's eyes grew icy once more. "When I die."

The shadows of twilight crept through the narrow streets of the Old City like ghosts. It was time to go. The companions readied themselves as best they could in the warm firelight of the common room.

As Caledan adjusted his swordbelt, he saw the Harper and Morhion exchange a meaningful look. Something has happened between them, he thought, clenching his hands into fists. He swore softly under his breath. Yet why should whatever went on between those two be of concern to him?

"I wish I were going with you, wife," said Jolle regretfully as he hugged Estah close. His broad, usually cheerful face was troubled.

"You have two rather good reasons to stay," Tyveris said as he picked up Pog and Nog and tossed them, shrieking with laughter, into the air before setting them back down.

Mari spoke then. "Once Tyveris and I begin freeing the prisoners, guards will most likely be summoned to the dungeons. The tunnels beneath the Tor should clear out. With luck you will be able to find the entrance of the crypt of the Shadowking."

"Don't worry about me, Harper," Caledan growled. "You do your part tonight, and I'll do mine. After that, I never expect to see you or the Harpers again. You can save your meddling for somebody else. I've had enough of it."

For a moment the proud look on Mari's face wavered. She cast a brief glance at Morhion, her dark eyes troubled, then turned her gaze back to Caledan and thrust her chin out defiantly.

"Let's go, then," Tyveris said gruffly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

They kept to shadowed lanes and dim alleyways, hoping to avoid any confrontations with the Zhentarim. A silence hung over the city. There was not a trace of wind. It was as if the city itself knew that its fate hung in the balance this night and was holding its breath.

They were near the rear wall of the Temple of Selune when two dark forms suddenly separated themselves from the shadows of an alcove to join the companions. Caledan started to draw his sword in surprise, but Ferret's hand on his arm stayed the action.

"These are friends," the thief hissed.

"Well met, Ferret," one of the thieves, a slender, dark-haired woman with large, catlike eyes, whispered.

"Greetings, Kyana," Ferret answered the woman.

Kyana spied the big Tabaxi. "What is this?" she asked mischievously. "A disciple of Oghma sneaking around the city like a common criminal? A rather large disciple of Oghma at that."

Tyveris's face darkened. "I was a warrior long before I was a loremaster, thief," he said dangerously. "Don't forget it."

Kyana tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "Very well, I won't." She turned to Mari. “Talim and I will be going with you into the dungeons." She nodded toward the other thief, a young man-hardly more than a boy-with a mop of red hair. Mari started to protest, but Kyana held up a hand. "No arguments, Harper. If you want to use our entrance to the dungeons, you have to play by our rules. Besides, you're going to need some help springing all those locks on the prisoners' cells."

Kyana led them down a dank, foul-smelling alley. She stopped at a peeling wooden door, knocking three times before pausing, then twice after that. After a long moment the door opened. Caledan felt eyes watching them from all around.

Kyana led the way into the ill-lit building. There were numerous thieves inside, but it was difficult to count them all, for they kept to the shadowed corners. Kyana paid them no heed as she led the companions down a flight of rickety stairs into the basement The small stone room was littered with broken crates and rotted furniture. Against one wall slumped an ancient oaken wardrobe. Kyana opened the wardrobe's doors. Inside was blackness, pure and perfect.

"In there?" Tyveris asked, uncomfortably eyeing the narrow opening.

Kyana nodded. "You're not afraid of the dark, are you, my overfed monk?"

Tyveris glared at her. Then he gathered his robes about his knees and stepped into the wardrobe. Kyana gestured for the others to follow.

Caledan had taken this way before, when Ferret had helped him escape from the dungeons, so he knew what lay ahead of them. Still, it did not make the utter darkness of the narrow, confining tunnel any more pleasant. He breathed a sigh of relief when they finally stepped out of the passage into an abandoned part of the dungeon beneath the tower.

Kyana shut the entrance behind them. It blended seamlessly with the rough stone wall. The portal would be absolutely impossible to detect if one didn't know beforehand where it was.

Kyana led the way down the debris-littered passageway. Cells lined the corridor, but their iron bars were rusted, their doors hanging on their hinges at extreme angles. No one had used this part of the dungeon in centuries. They would encounter no guards down here.

Soon they reached an intersection. Caledan could see golden light glowing down each of the passageways to their right and left. Moans of pain and the dull clanging of iron drifted faintly on the dark, fetid air.

Here was to be a parting of ways.

"There are prisoners down each of these corridors," Ferret whispered. "Both eventually lead to the tower. The tunnel leading to the excavations is a short distance down the left-hand passage."

"Tyveris, you head down the corridor to the right," Mart said gravely. "Free as many prisoners as you can. Kyana, go with him. Talim and I will take the left-hand passage and do the same. We'll catch up to you by the stairs leading up to the tower-if at all possible."

Tyveris nodded solemnly. "May the gods be with you this night," the big loremaster said in his rumbling voice.

"Don't worry, Harper, I'll take good care of him," Kyana said as she and the loremaster started off down the right-hand corridor. Ferret didn't hesitate, quickly leading the others down the other passageway.

They were nearly to the tunnel that led to the excavations when Ferret called the others to a halt. He cocked his head. Caledan could see his ears twitching. "There are guards coming," he whispered. "Seven or eight at least. I can hear the clanking of their armor."

Caledan listened. At first he could hear nothing, then the faint sound of booted feet against cold stone drifted down the passageway. They couldn't risk a fight. At best, it would delay them, and at worst…

"This way," Morhion said, gesturing to the shadowed mouth of a side passage. "It may be our only chance."

Caledan hesitated, but there was no time to think. "Come on," Morhion hissed, starting down the side corridor. The others followed. There was a foul, vaguely sweet odor in the air. The passageway gave Caledan a bad feeling.

Without warning the passage opened up into a small, darkened chamber. It was a dead end, Caledan realized. He swore, sensing something was very wrong, and gripped the hilt of his sword. Too late.

Torches burst into life all around the companions. Caledan stumbled backward involuntarily, blinded by the glare. When his vision cleared, he realized they were surrounded by Zhentarim.

There were at least a dozen warriors, each holding a crossbow trained on one of the companions-all except for Morhion. The mage stepped forward, joining two dark-robed figures who stood alongside the Zhentarim.

Morhion had betrayed them.

"You'll pay for this, mage," Caledan spat. He lunged forward, only to be brought up short as several Zhentarim leveled their swordpoints at his chest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Caledan," a clear voice said as one of the black-robed figures pushed back its cowl. Ravendas. "Yes, Caledan, it is I. You did not think you would escape me so easily, did you?" She turned to address the other black-robed figure. "Your traitor has done exceedingly well."

Ravendas's companion also pushed back his heavy cowl. It was Lord Steward Snake, his dark eyes glittering in the torchlight. "As I promised, my lord."

"Twice now you have done me a great favor, Morhion Gen'dahar," Ravendas crooned. The mage did not meet her gaze. He stared blankly forward, his attitude unfathomable. 'This time you have outdone yourself. I had not expected you to bring me the troublesome Harper as well."

Ravendas approached Mari. "Who will lead your little rebellion now, Harper?" Mari stiffened, yet remained silent So Morhion had betrayed them, informing Ravendas of the plan to free the prisoners.

"What are you going to do with us?" Caledan demanded hotly.

"Kill you, of course," Ravendas said flatly. "But I wish you to live long enough to see me wield the power of the Night-stone. It will make your failure all the more bitter." She turned to one of the Zhentarim warriors. "Bind them."

Caledan, Mari, Estah, and Ferret were each bound tightly. Suddenly Caledan noticed that the young thief, Talim, was not among them. He must have slipped away in the darkness. The four were dragged out of the passageway, and for a brief moment Caledan found himself next to Morhion.

"If ever it is in my power," he whispered harshly, "I will kill you for this treachery, mage."

"I know," was all Morhion said.