Key of Stars

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Year of the Secret (1396 DR)

Feywild

Warmth like a welcoming hearth fire drew Raidon onward. His Cerulean Sign knew the name Forever’s Edge. With every heartbeat, a pulse of familiarity tingled from his chest to suffuse the rest of his body. With every step, the connection grew stronger. His spellscar was again his guide.

A breeze tousled his hair, and fey light streamed down from the flawless sky. Anticipation made his stomach taut.

“A shadow clings to that ridge,” Japheth said.

Raidon followed the warlock’s gesture, through a succulent green valley illuminated with sunlight. A steep rise, bare of vegetation, formed the far side of the valley’s bowl.

His spellscar pulsed in that direction.

“That’s the way we need to go,” Raidon said.

“I concur,” said Japheth. “Malyanna passed this way … but some time ago. It almost seems she came from the direction we go, but did not return this way. Yet, my connection to the power we share places her beyond that rise.”

They hurried through the valley, jumping across a clear brook that wandered the valley’s trough, then ascended the rise. On the lower slope, grass and a few trees struggled to gain a foothold. The vegetation failed completely as they ascended.

On the other side of the bare knob of stone, the land fell away into dimness. A cold air blew from that direction, and it smelled of endings.

“Of course. I should’ve guessed our path would be the one clogged with darkness and dread,” said Japheth.

“What, you expected a castle made of confection and honey?” replied Raidon.

The warlock laughed. “If you know of a place like that, I wouldn’t mind a rest! I’ve got a sweet tooth,” he said.

“Only in the stories I once told my daughter,” said Raidon.

“I imagine, somewhere in the world or one of its echoes, such a place exists,” Japheth said. “If we get through this, I’m going to try and find it.”

“A quest without consequences for failure? I think I’ll join you,” said the monk.

Both men plunged down the other side, into the gloom that lay beyond. They walked into a tableau of bare rock, jagged boulders, and half-dead scrub grass. The farther they went, the darker it became.

Raidon glanced back once and saw the glow of Faerie still gleamed behind them on the horizon. Something caught in his throat.

A presentiment stole over him-a whispering certainty that he’d never walk in that golden light again.

“What is it?” said Japheth.

The monk glanced at his companion. The warlock’s cloak made him hard to pick out against the black sky.

“Nothing,” Raidon said. “Just resting. I think we’re close.”

“Taal explained that Malyanna was some sort of guardian at the edge of the world,” said Japheth.

“A guardian?” said Raidon.

“She was co-opted,” replied the warlock. “Do you suppose the other guardians were also compromised, or she’s working alone?”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Raidon said.

They pressed onward. Raidon wondered at the lack of animal life, so close to Faerie. Not even a single snake, fox, or a crow had crossed over. Or if any had, they hid themselves from him and Japheth.

Hours later, a row of lights appeared on the horizon. Raidon pointed them out to Japheth.

The warlock grunted in acknowledgment.

The tiny lights resolved as they approached, and revealed themselves as beacon fires. The fires glittered from the tops of tall towers constructed at the edge of a rocky rise. The towers were delicate yet sturdy, and each one was surrounded by an outer wall and ward.

A tower near one edge of the line had toppled forward across the rocky plain, smashing through its own retaining wall. Its cylindrical stone shell was broken into rubble.

A vast darkness swirled beyond the towers. It was a void shot through with faint stars and the occasional flare of red light that brought a slight chill to Raidon’s spellscar.

“This is it. Forever’s Edge,” said the monk. He pulled his silk shirt tighter around him against the cold.

“Is your symbol telling you anything else?” Japheth asked.

“No.”

They approached the central, largest spire.

Despite the high wall and thick gate, they heard voices yelling out orders and questions, the sound of hooves on stone, blares of horns, and occasional cursing in a variety of languages. Noises like stone banging on stone, metal on metal, and less identifiable sounds skipped across the rock.

“Sounds like cavalry preparing for a sortie,” Raidon said.

“All for us?” said Japheth.

Raidon glanced to the farther towers. Moving lights on the tops of the walls, surging beacon fires, and the occasional flicker as something passed in front of a light told a tale of similar activity.

“Seems unlikely-unless your pact is far more dangerous than you let on,” Raidon said.

“Hmmph,” replied Japheth.

“But they have noticed us,” said the half-elf, gesturing.

Several eladrin on horseback issued from a side gate and approached them along the wall. Some wielded swords, others bows, one a lance. All were caparisoned in silvery mithral greaves and hauberks. Their panoply reminded Raidon of the knights he’d seen in Stardeep. What had they been called …?

Empyrean Knights. Those in Stardeep had ultimately been betrayed by their leader. Was the same true for these?

The lead knight didn’t quite point her lance at Raidon. “Name yourselves and your purpose!” she said.

“We seek Malyanna,” replied the monk.

The knight blinked. “What’s your business with the Lady of Winter’s Peace?” she said. “I don’t recognize either of you.”

Raidon considered the knight, wondering if she was in Malyanna’s power already.

Before he could decide, the knight gave a single nod at the toppled tower. “I’m sorry to give you the bad news,” she said. “Spire of Winter’s Peace fell in the attack. Lady Malyanna is missing.”

“Attack?” Raidon asked.

Before the leader could respond, one of the other knights called up. “These two strangers arrive suspiciously close to the assault,” he said. “What if they’re here to take advantage of the distraction?”

“Nonsense,” said Raidon in a loud voice. “We are foes of abominations and aberrations! We arrive now only because dark forces are on the move, goaded by their new priestess. I hope you are, and remain, foes of that which lies outside the natural order too.”

“You hope we …?” called the knight. “Don’t be foolish, it is our ancient charter!”

“I’m glad,” Raidon said. “But a traitor is among you.”

“He seeks to turn us against each other!” said a knight.

“No. I seek to open your eyes. The traitor is Malyanna.”

Several of the knights exclaimed with angry curses. Japheth swirled his cloak defensively.

“It was she who was probably responsible for your ‘attack’!” yelled Raidon.

“Stop your prattle, human,” said the woman. “You don’t know of what you speak, here on the Edge.”

A thread of anger heated Raidon’s reply. “Do I not?” he said. “Then why do I suspect that if you can’t find Malyanna, it is because she is already on her way to a place called the Far Manifold.”

“A mortal creature can’t open the Far Manifold,” the woman said, her eyes narrowing as she spoke.

The knights began to form up behind the woman in the lead, drawing their lances down their line. Japheth glanced at Raidon. The monk could tell his companion was on the edge of violence, or perhaps a quick retreat.

Raidon tried again. “Listen to me,” he said. “Malyanna has retrieved the Key of Stars from Faerun! With it, a mortal can indeed open that bleak gate, and she intends to try! Then the lords that the Eldest aboleth in Xxiphu serves will be free to enter existence, and erase it.”

“You’re either insane, or more likely, agents of the aboleths yourselves,” the lead knight said. She took her signal horn from her belt and prepared to sound it.

“Would a foe from the Sovereignty bear this?” Raidon said, pulling open his silk shirt and baring the Cerulean Sign. A purifying light bloomed in its simple lines and washed across the ground until it enveloped the knights, the gate, and a portion of the outer wall.

A hush fell across the men and women on horseback, and beyond. The noises on the other side of the wall fell away too. From the tower above them, at the highest point just visible above the wall, came an answering glow.

The lead knight looked up at that radiance, then back to the monk. Raidon saw the tension go out of her shoulders. Her eyes were suddenly wide with confusion. She raised her lance in a salute. “It seems you are expected by the Lady of the Moon,” she said, her voice now hushed.

“Who is the Lady of the Moon?” said Japheth, stepping forward.

“Each watchtower is under the command of a lady or a lord,” the lead knight said. “The Spire of the Moon answers to Lady Erunyauve.”

The ground seemed to drop away beneath Raidon’s feet. The air in his lungs didn’t seem to be enough to sustain him. Could it really be, after all that time?

Japheth glanced at the monk. “You know that name?” he asked.

Raidon swallowed. He tried to speak, coughed, then said, “Yes. Erunyauve is my mother’s name.”

Raidon walked in a daze. Images of his mother, as he remembered her, overlay reality. Part of him was sure it was all some kind of misunderstanding. How many eladrin took the name Erunyauve anyway?

He and Japheth were led past iron valves into a square-cut tunnel flagged with granite. The corridor pierced the outer wall, and was lit with flickering lamps. The knights preceded them into a wide courtyard surging with knights, mounts, ballistae, and steeds of various sorts, including several dozen griffons.

The central tower was the courtyard’s focus.

The Spire of the Moon, from a closer vantage, lost some of the slender elegance that distance lent it. The tower had been built up from lesser structures, one upon the next, over centuries. Roofs had become balconies for elevated watch posts, and foundations for higher walls, and basements the origin for yet deeper halls and armories cut into the earth. The congested construction thrust aloft the Spire, making it a citadel both high and wide. Slender walkways and curling stairways provided external access to various levels and galleries. At inconstant intervals, great lamps burned, spilling a silvery radiance down the spire’s side.

The knights directed the visitors to the tower’s entrance, which was flanked by sculptures of guardian unicorns.

Four eladrin in silver livery stood in the Spire’s entry hall.

“Greetings,” said one.

“We’re here to see Erunyauve,” said Raidon.

“Yes. But first, we are to show you to your rooms, so that you may take some rest from your journey.”

“What? No,” said Raidon. “I want to see Erunyauve.”

“All in good time.”

The monk narrowed his eyes.

Japheth put his hand on Raidon’s shoulder, and the monk realized that of all places, this was the place to show control. He sought his personal focus. Over slow heartbeats, his irritation fell away.

“Then I thank you, for we are travel weary,” said Raidon. “Please show us our accommodations. But also tell the Lady of the Moon that Raidon is anxious to see her, and that time is short.”

“She knows,” one of the eladrin said. “Now, follow me.”

Raidon’s room was high up on the tower’s side. It overlooked the keep, the darkling plain, and far beyond, the glimmering light of the Feywild.

Hot water was drawn for a bath. The monk called again on his focus for the timeless patience it could provide. Not all Xiang’s lessons had been martial.

As the steaming fluid sluiced down his head, cleansing the dirt of days from his hair and body, the tension washed away. His speculations on what was to soon occur smoothed away. His reunion with his vanished mother, whom he’d spent over a decade searching for and was likely the reason he became the man he was, was imminent.

That sufficed.

Raidon rose from his bath and dressed. He poured tea from a cunningly inscribed service left in the room. The flavor was nearly as good as his favorite variety, and that was saying something-West Lake Dragon Well was a gem of Faerun. The eladrin in the tower on the edge of everything obviously maintained a degree of contact with the world.

Someplace in the tower, a bell chimed.

A knock at Raidon’s door preceded the appearance of another silver-clad servant.

“It’s time,” she said.

Raidon nodded and followed.

“We go to the Court of the Moon,” said the eladrin.

They collected Japheth.

“Ready?” said the warlock.

Raidon said, “One hopes.”

They ascended more stairs, past closed doors, windows, and enigmatic statuary lit by candle sconces. Finally they came to a chamber high in the tower.

The room occupied the entire level. What seemed like Selune’s Tears glimmered upon the high ceiling, providing light more than bright enough to see by. A massive crystal throne occupied the chamber’s center, carved with subtle designs of moons, stars, leaves, and frolicking animals of the natural world. The designs seemed to swirl and move slowly across the crystal as if shadows of actual living creatures.

A woman sat on the throne with solemn grace, robed in emerald. A mantle of silver swathed her shoulders, and her hair was knotted with more braids and charms than Raidon could count. Her eyes were silver, and when they turned to regard him, he recognized them as his mother’s.

His breath hitched. Moisture filled the corners of his eyes.

Various knight commanders, courtiers, and other eladrin in the room parted to allow Raidon and Japheth room to approach.

“Welcome, my son,” said Erunyauve. Her voice was heart-breakingly familiar. “I’ve missed you. More than words can say, I’ve missed you.” She smiled, and the room grew lighter.

Raidon went to her.

The woman looked up at him and raised her arms, but did not rise. He bent and embraced her. Her flowery smell was a door, and a flood of recollections tumbled through. Tears blurred his vision, but a warmth kindled in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in years. It was the warmth of belonging. It was truly his mother before him.

“Why …?” said Raidon, but his throat constricted.

The woman took his hand and said, “I’m sorry I left you. Duty called, and … I couldn’t stay. It nearly tore me in two to leave you.”

Their embrace broke.

“Duty?” said Raidon, his voice hoarse. He regained a portion of his focus.

“Yes,” she said. “I had to choose. I chose to take up an obligation I’d long prepared for.” Tears pooled in Erunyauve’s eyes, shimmering silver.

“This place, I presume,” Raidon said, gesturing around the tower chamber.

She nodded. “I am one of the wardens of the Watch on Forever’s Edge,” she said. “I have been for decades-centuries even, at least according to the count of time in the world.”

“How did you ever come to Telflamm, to be with my father?” Raidon asked. “How was it that you, an eladrin warden of a place like this, and my father, a human; a Shou …?”

“I wasn’t to have assumed the mantle for many years,” his mother replied. “I traveled the world, and saw so many things.”

“That’s when you met my father?”

“Sometimes the heart leads us, not cold reason. He was the kindest of men. And, well … life’s tide washed over me.”

“Then you left us. You were ‘impelled’?”

“The warden of this tower died suddenly. I was his heir. The summons came to take my position on this unforgiving throne. I dithered long, because I knew if I left, I’d probably never see you, my son, ever again.” The woman cast her gaze down.

“You had no choice?”

“No, I had a choice. Some other could have taken this burden. But wardenship was what I’d spent my life preparing for. I couldn’t not accept it once it was offered, despite the awful timing.”

“Even though it meant leaving behind a child who would forever wonder what had become of his mother.” It wasn’t a question.

“And for that, I can never forgive myself.”

Raidon was confused. “Why would your position here prevent you from coming back to us, even for a short visit?” he said. “It would have been hard to explain, but at least we could have seen you from time to time.”

“I am the Lady of the Moon. I sit on the Throne of Seeing.”

Raidon stared at the woman before him, gladness and hurt battling each other. Her posture seemed almost awkward for someone so graceful.

“Why do you not stand?” he asked.

“I cannot. Whoever sits on the Throne of Seeing gains great powers of vision and prediction. But she who sits on the throne remains bound to it until the title is relinquished. Its embrace is unflinching.”

“How awful,” whispered Raidon. “So you left us, knowing that this would be your fate?”

“It was necessary,” his mother replied. “It is one of the tools that allows us to keep watch on the Citadel of the Outer Void.”

“But it’s like slavery,” he pressed.

“No, it is not that, though it kept me from seeing you,” she replied. “At first, I thought I never would again. Later, I saw a chance that, though slim, might one day bring you to me.”

She offered a hand, and he took it. She squeezed, and he returned the pressure.

Raidon felt brittle. In that room, beyond all belief, was she whom he’d spent so many years searching for, before the Sovereignty. But Erunyauve had willingly chosen to separate herself from him. It was almost as though she’d chosen to sacrifice herself. He wondered, though, why she hadn’t even chosen to send a messenger?

“Well, now I’ve arrived,” he said. Resentment coiled just behind his words. “But a threat to everything rides at my heels. Why did you not call me before now, when we could have spent days, or even years catching up?”

“Because that is not the way I saw events proceeding. We have only a thin chance of surviving what occurs next, and meddling with that thread … Purposefully muddying the visions shown me by the throne might have changed things and ensured the Sovereignty’s victory.”

“I see,” he said, though he didn’t, really. “So, my part here is all foreseen.”

“Not entirely; events spiral out of control,” his mother replied. “I only hoped you would come. And, now that you have, you can help stem the incursion.”

The monk wanted to start over, to begin his meeting with his mother again, and hear comforting words. He wanted her to be what he’d always imagined: a being of perfect love who’d had no choice but to leave him. Instead, he found a woman with complex motivations of her own, motivations that went beyond love for an absent son.

“Will you help?” she asked.

Raidon clung to his focus and nodded.

Japheth spoke up for the first time. “What was the nature of the attack your knights spoke of at the gate?” he said.

“A city of aboleths appeared in the void no more than a few bells ago,” Erunyauve said.

The warlock gasped.

“Xxiphu came here?” said Raidon.

“Just so,” replied the Lady of the Moon. “The wards tried to crush the city, but the ancient cyst proved too strong. The Spire of Winter’s Peace toppled, and the other towers were damaged.”

“Did anyone else accompany the city?” asked Japheth.

“Anyone else?” Erunyauve asked.

“Companions of ours were observing the city, before it came here. A woman, named Anusha-and her friend Yeva. A ship captain called Thoster, and his crew and vessel …”

Erunyauve shook her head. “I didn’t see a sailing craft. Xxiphu appeared several hundred yards off the cliff face. The city was haloed in worldly cloud vapor and sea water. It’s possible a ship was caught up in that detritus. But the city didn’t linger after it appeared; it receded into the dark, toward the Citadel of the Outer Void. If others accompanied the city, they never came here.”

The warlock scowled, worry plain across his tight face.

“What about Malyanna?” said Raidon, curious despite his hurt. “Did you see her on Xxiphu’s ramparts?”

“No,” replied Erunyauve. “My knights relayed your claim, that the Lady of Winter’s Peace is a traitor.”

“It’s true,” said Japheth.

The Lady of the Moon nodded, her demeanor resigned. “Her mentor, the previous Lord of Winter’s Peace, was also a betrayer,” she said. “How tragic; Carnis’s corruption claimed his successor.”

“Carnis, who you kept in a prison splinter of the Feywild called Stardeep,” said Raidon.

“Not me,” she replied. “An arm of our order did, at least they did so until the changing of the world, when Stardeep was destroyed, and Carnis with it. His death contributed to Xxiphu rousing.”

“Others also contributed,” Japheth said, frowning.

“No one person or event is fully to blame,” said Erunyauve.

The warlock nodded. Then his eyes narrowed. “You should keep better track of your bad seeds, Lady,” he said. “Malyanna found the remnants of Stardeep and the petrified body of Carnis. From it, she’s apparently got her Key of Stars, whatever that is. She believes she has what she needs to open the Far Manifold.”

The eladrin returned Japheth’s gaze with her silver regard until he blinked.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Raidon said.

“The Throne of Seeing revealed this to me,” Erunyauve said. “Malyanna retrieved what she sought.”

She paused a long moment, then turned back to him. “I left you with something to remember me by when I departed,” she said.

A smiled tugged at the corners of Raidon’s mouth. “And I treasured it,” he said. “My one physical remembrance of you.”

“You showed its power at the gate, so I know you still have it with you,” Erunyauve said.

“After a fashion,” Raidon replied, opening his shirt wider to reveal the Cerulean Sign stitched into his flesh as a spellscar. Its fire flickered and bathed the room in its sapphire glow.

“The Throne did not reveal this!” she said.

“It helped me fight the aberrations,” Raidon said. “With it, and the sword Angul forged in Stardeep, and my own modest skills, I kept the Eldest somnambulant when Malyanna tried to rouse it.”

Composure returned to the seated woman. “You did well, better than you know,” she said. “But the Sign-” She put one hand to her mouth. It worried Raidon to see a hint of doubt cloud his mother’s features.

“You knew it was more than a remembrance when you gave it to me?” said Raidon.

“I left a Cerulean Sign for you, as a remembrance only,” his mother said. “Each Sign is precious to us because they are vanishingly rare. I couldn’t think of anything more fitting to leave for you. It was only later, upon taking up my position, the Throne hinted you might one day return it to me when the need for it was most urgent.”

Japheth broke in, “To see so far into the future, you must command a considerable talent,” he said.

“Yes. But it’s a lonely power,” Erunyauve replied. “To see the future, sometimes blurry, sometimes clearly … Destiny can seem so certain that neither fate, nor luck, nor intervention of any kind can alter what is fated. But for all that, the Throne did not reveal the Sign would be bound indelibly to my son’s flesh!”

Raidon saw tears well anew in Erunyauve’s eyes. His heart hurt a little to see her distress. “Don’t worry,” he said, pointing at the Sign. “It seems to have all the power it possessed when it was an amulet.”

“It’s not that,” she replied. “It means your part in this fight is not done, Raidon. I had planned to take this burden from you at the last, relinquish my title, and leave this seat. You’ve had to bear so much, even though you did not choose to do so. But now …”

The monk put a hand on her arm. “It’s literally been a journey of decades to find you,” he said. “Know I would not turn away now, even though we are reunited. It seems I have a part to play yet, and I mean to fulfill it. The death of my own child still lays heavy on me.”

“I know,” she whispered.

Silence stretched in the court.

“My lady,” said Japheth. “What is the Watch going to do now that Xxiphu has appeared?”

“You saw the activity in the courtyards?” Erunyauve asked. “We are preparing to storm the void and go after the city, of course. We must eject the Eldest from the Citadel, and Malyanna, and take the Key of Stars from them.”

“May I accompany you?” said Japheth. “I’m worried what has become of our companions. And my power is useful against these foes.”

Erunyauve turned her eyes on the warlock again. Under their regard, he reddened, but did not look away.

“Yes,” she said. “You are touched by the void, but not consumed by it. The Throne tells me you have a part to play too, but I can’t tell for good or ill-your pact corrupts my sight. It is allied with the same power that inhabits Xxiphu.”

The court murmured at the lady’s words. She flicked her gaze out across them, and the voices quieted. “But if Raidon counts you as an ally, I do too,” she said.

The monk thought of the time he had tried to stab the warlock with Angul, but kept his peace.

Japheth coughed. “Thank you,” he said. “Then, we should go after Xxiphu as quickly as possible!”

“The hours flow more slowly here at the Edge than in the world or its echoes,” Erunyauve said. “Beyond the discontinuity, they move slower still. This has been our one advantage over the centuries, as we’ve watched. It means we have the luxury of preparing a force large enough to have some hope of winning through.”

“How much time before we leave?” Japheth asked.

“Not long, but … enough to present you both with gifts.”

“What?” Japheth said.

Erunyauve motioned with one hand.

Two courtiers parted from the press of the court and advanced. Each carried a chest.

The Lady of the Moon said, “Raidon, as I said, I saw there was a chance you would arrive here, you and at least one ally. I had planned on relieving you of the burden of the Cerulean Sign, but I suspected you might still wish to accompany the forces I sent, since I would have personally been leading them.”

“You?” Raidon blurted out

She smiled. “From where do you think you got your fighting instinct?” she said. “Before I took this seat, I was considered the most accomplished warrior in the tower.”

“Oh,” Raidon replied.

“Anyway, I prepared a couple of things,” Erunyauve continued. “Even though I won’t be with you, these may help you in the Citadel of the Outer Void.”

The courtiers set down their burdens.

The first chest contained a pair of matched gauntlets, thin and supple, and dyed the color of the sky.

“My son,” Erunyauve said, “these will increase your already considerable strength. You may call upon their power three times before it is spent.”

Raidon accepted the gloves, and drew them on over his hands. They fit perfectly, and he could feel vitality tingling at his fingertips. “Thank you, Mother,” he said.

She nodded, then pointed to the second chest.

It contained a rod of darkly oiled wood. Japheth pulled it forth. The rod flashed with the green of leaves in sunlight, or grass blowing across a rain-wet plain. The smell of growing things and cool wind briefly played around the chamber. The warlock gave a tentative smile.

“This is the Rod of Silvanus,” said the Lady of the Moon. “It is a reminder of the natural world. Its mere presence unsettles aberrations. However, for you, Japheth, I foretell it will serve an even more important function-it will anchor you to Toril and its echoes. When you stand before the Far Manifold, and your pact pulls at your mind, remember the Rod of Silvanus.”

Japheth blinked. “I … I shall,” he said. “Thank you, lady.”

Erunyauve clapped, and a bell chimed in synchrony. The note hung in the air, swelling until it was a thunderclap that must have been audible across the Edge and in the other watchtowers.

“Listen to me now; listen!” she said, her voice somehow energized by the bell’s lingering volume.

“The forces of the Watch are marshaled and ready. The time has come to cease our preparations, and act! The battle over the Edge is about to begin. Upon this fight depends the survival of more than just our own lives; upon it depends the welfare of the world itself. And against us is arrayed an enemy whose power is beyond measure, whose fury and might would rip asunder any lesser force.

“The Sovereignty sees its chance to open the Far Manifold. If successful, all the world and its echoes, including the Feywild, will be washed away as if they had never been. All will be lost, forever.

“We do not fight against simple oppression, or mere dominion. We fight for our right to live! Our right to exist!

“So take up your lances and your swords, your wands and your spells, and your courage. Fight with all of your heart and all of your mind. If we succeed, the continued survival of world and its echoes will be your badge of honor! And forever after, until the world is renewed, the wise will say, ‘they were the saviors of us all!’ ”

A throaty yell reverberated through the court. Raidon found he was cheering just as loudly as the eladrin knights. A grin was plastered across Japheth’s face. And Erunyauve smiled. She raised her arms to receive the court’s appreciation.

When the noise died away, the room cleared as knights found the exits.

Only a few servitors, Raidon and Japheth, and the Lady of the Moon remained.

“Raidon,” said Erunyauve.

The monk leaned into another embrace. Her smile slipped. “As skilled as are the forces of the Watch, and the various wardens who will lead our knights, you are more powerful still, in part because you bear a Sign,” she said. “It may be that in the end, the conflict will come down to you and your compatriots. Do your best to … keep Malyanna from opening the Far Manifold.”

“That is our goal,” he replied.

She nodded. Raidon made to pull away, but she held his hand. “It’s truly good to see you again,” she said. “Despite seeing the possibility of your coming here, I couldn’t let myself hope in case that future played me false.”

Raidon had no words for her. He just held her hand. In his grip was the culmination of a quest he’d begun the day she’d left him. Neither of them wanted the moment to end.

The pain he felt at her revelation, that’d she’d chosen the Watch on Forever’s Edge instead of him, was already fading. Erunyauve had chosen duty over parenting, but standing here at the far end of that decision, it didn’t seem so poor a choice. He brought her hand to his cheek, and though no words passed his lips, he forgave her.

Lightness blew through his soul like spring’s return.

“Mother, you’ve given me even more than you know,” he said. “I feel revived. That you’d never forgotten me was always my fondest hope. Knowing it’s true is a boon of incalculable value. Thank you.”

Fresh moisture glistened in Erunyauve’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you, you know,” she said.

“I know,” Raidon replied.

“Well, then,” she said, squeezing his hand hard. “Though time is on our side, it still slips away without pause. I wish …”

“I’ll go.”

“But come back to me, Raidon. I’ll be waiting for you. We have so much to catch up on.”

He kissed her forehead. Without his focus, he would have been unable to leave the presence of his mother. As it was, his arms shook inside their silk sleeves as he left the chamber.

Japheth walked at his side down the stairs. The footfalls and voices of the knights who had preceded them still rang in the shaft.

“Amazing that your mother is here,” Japheth said. “It’s too much for coincidence.”

“It was Erunyauve who gave me the Cerulean Sign,” Raidon replied. “Had she given it to another, perhaps that one would be here. It actually explains many things about my life. I wish she had contacted me, though, even via a messenger …”

The monk shook his head. “But I’m just grateful I’ve found her finally,” he said. “Though it would have been …” He couldn’t get out the words that he wished his mother could have met Ailyn.

The warlock clapped him on the shoulder. They continued down the stairwell in silence.

The courtyard outside the tower swarmed with knights, winged mounts, and engines of war. A great force had been drawn up before the war gates. The largest company was comprised of knights on griffons. The griffons wore silver barding, and the knights wielded crystalline lances.

Some of the griffons were hitched to chariot-like conveyances outfitted with ballistae, catapults, and a few devices Raidon didn’t recognize. Two griffons overshadowed all the others, and their pelts seemed equal parts feather and frost. Plumes of cooled air rolled from their nostrils with each breath.

The knight who had met them at the gate turned up at the monk’s elbow.

“This way!” she said, leading them to a chariot designed to carry soldiers. Four archers were already aboard-one at each corner.

An eladrin in red robes and a flaring collar was also aboard. A thick tome hung off his belt on a golden chain.

The knight said, “Dayereth, these are-”

“I know who they are, though I can hardly believe it,” the robed eladrin said. “Who would have thought the Lady of the Moon had a child? Unthinkable! But, here you are, nonetheless. Anyway, come, come aboard! I’m honored to have you in my chariot. I’m Dayereth.”

Japheth shot the monk a quick look. Raidon guessed the warlock’s unstated thought was something along the lines of, “What’s going on with this fellow?”

Raidon shrugged to the warlock, and stepped up into the chariot. Japheth coughed, then followed.

Instead of seats, the transport was outfitted with several upright metal poles fixed to the floor. Hand grips jutted from the poles at shoulder height. The archers, disdaining the hand holds, were loosely attached to their poles with tethers.

Dayereth pointed at the monk. “You are obviously Raidon, progeny of our lady,” he said. “My, my-you really do have a Cerulean Sign stitched to you! How did that happen? And what’s this I hear about your sword? It contains the soul of a Keeper of the old order?”

Raidon blinked. The eladrin’s rapid fire speech could prove a trial. “Dayereth, suffice it to say I’ve enjoyed interesting times over the last decade or so,” he said. “Once we defeat the Sovereignty, there will be time for long tales.”

“Listen,” broke in Japheth. “You seem to be familiar with us-Raidon, at least-but what’s your story?”

The man grinned and pointed at his book. “I’m a wizard of uncommon strength,” he said. “The Spellplague may have changed magic, but I’ve charted entirely new paths to arcane power that far outstrips what I could do when the Weave was in place, holding us back.”

“Ah,” said Japheth. “That’s nice … Probably another long story we’d love to hear after this is all taken care of.”

“But I’d be delighted to tell you more right now!” the eladrin said.

Raidon felt his focus fraying.

Japheth raised hand. “No! I mean, uh, no,” he said. “I have a question first, about these chariots. One griffon is really enough to pull them into the air?”

The wizard waved a hand. “Magic went into each chariot’s making,” he said. “A single flying steed can draw one with ease. I worked on the ritual myself, as a matter of fact. It wasn’t too-”

Notes blared from a hundred horns. Japheth sighed with relief; Raidon felt the same. Anything to shut the odd wizard up.

Raidon glanced at the war gates. They remained steadfastly closed.

He chided himself-what need did a flying armada have for gates?

The griffons screamed a chorus of piercing hunting calls and took to the air. The chariot jerked forward into a storm of beating wings and rushing air. Raidon was glad for his grip.

“Forever’s Edge!” Dayereth yelled. He waved one hand, and a golden light shot out before them.

Their chariot cleared the top of the wall by just a few feet, its wheels spinning without purchase. They passed out over the dark plain in a wide curve. Their griffon was momentarily silhouetted by the Feywild gleam on the horizon before the view rotated as they followed a curving flight path. A moment later, and they were aimed directly into the void.

A wedge of mounted knights took the lead with their crystalline lances drawn. Each lance produced illumination like Dayereth’s conjured light. The two larger griffons with hoarfrost pelts flew on either side of the vanguard.

The remaining knights and chariots drew up in discreet squads behind. Their own chariot was nearer to the front of the flying platoon than the rear, and higher than most of the others too. From their vantage, Raidon saw occasional flashes of light emerging from the depths of the dark abyss falling away before them, and in those brief flashes, images of writhing horror.

“Look!” Japheth said, pointing. “They’re all emptying out.”

Raidon saw platoons issuing from the other watchtowers, billowing up into the darkness beyond the cliff face like dust in the wind.

The gathered armada of Forever’s Edge flung itself into the void.