The Alabaster Staff

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Shivering with cold, Kehrsyn looked around at the open plaza surrounding the Chariot Memorial. The entire area, as she'd expected at such a late hour on such a wretched night, was deserted. She moved quickly over to Wheelwright's, down to the wedge-shaped building, and climbed the ladder. She wondered how long it would be before people figured out it was abandoned.

Maybe, she thought, I could set myself up as landlord and charge people rent to stay here. But first I'd have to clean it up. And get rid of the dog and those last two mangled bodies.

She opened the door and stepped in, eager to get out of the frigid rain and put anything solid between herself and the legions of guards she envisioned chasing her throughout the streets of Messemprar.

The door slammed shut. Someone behind her wrapped one arm around her arms and clamped a hand over her mouth.

A rough voice hissed, "Quiet!"

A man's voice. Kehrsyn kicked upward with her heel, looking to discommode whomever it was, but she felt him twist slightly and her heel struck his thigh. The man dropped onto his back, pulling them down together, then he rolled over, pinning her body beneath him. Doing so, he'd freed up the arm that had pinned her hands, and just as she thought to grab his hair or claw his eyes, she felt the tip of a blade at her throat. She considered biting the fingers that stifled her mouth but decided that the blade's tip was too great a threat Instead, she slowly held her hands out to the side and tapped the floor in surrender.

The man kept one knee on her back as he rose. She heard him mumble something in an arcane tongue, and a small glowing orb, not much larger than a firefly but much brighter, appeared in the middle of the room. Once the room was lit, he rose to his feet, backing away so that she could sit up. She did so and turned to see who had captured her.

"Demok!" she gasped, seeing his short sword bared and leveled. "Please don't kill me. Please, I have important news for Massedar. You have to take me back, but don't let Ahegi see me, or he'll kill me."

Demok raised one hand and leveled it at Kehrsyn, pointing it in a commanding manner.

"Quiet," he said.

"But-"

"Quiet!"

Keeping one eye on Kehrsyn, Demok used his free hand to move a few packs and bags in front of the door, blocking it. The makeshift barricade wouldn't stop someone determined to pass, but it would slow someone-someone like her-for a few precious seconds. Kehrsyn grew more and more nervous, for what would one more body in the building be?

It crossed her mind to wonder how Demok knew where the building was. No one in Wing's Reach knew about the place. She'd been very careful…

"Oh no," said Kehrsyn, "you're one of them. You're with the Dragon Queen! I won't tell anyone… please. I promise."

Demok did not acknowledge her outburst. Rising, he circled around Kehrsyn to put himself between her and the other two exits from the room.

"I watched you perform at the Jackal's Courtyard," he said.

"Yeah, I know," replied Kehrsyn, on the verge of tears. "I saw you."

"I let you," he said. "I'd watched three days."

"You did?" asked Kehrsyn, eager to perpetuate the conversation, as the longer they talked, the longer she stayed alive.

"Studied your skills," he said. "You're good."

"Thanks," said Kehrsyn.

"When the woman framed you, you escaped. Saw me. Ran. Guards gave chase. We fell, entering the alley."

"Yeah, I remember," said Kehrsyn.

"Deliberate."

"What do you mean? You mean you-"

"Later, you hid in an alley," interrupted Demok. "Two Zhents closing in. Then a whistle. They chased after someone else. False lead."

"Yeah, that's what happened," said Kehrsyn. "The sorceress said that Mask, the God of Thieves, favored me."

"That was me, too."

"What?"

"I tripped so you'd get away," he said. "I led them away so you'd live." He paused, studying Kehrsyn's reaction, then added, "Had a reason. Still do. So I'm not going to kill you now."

Kehrsyn closed her eyes, sagged to the floor in relief, and started to cry.

"I'll build a fire," said Demok.

A short while later, Demok had a bright fire going. He'd lit a lamp and placed candles burning at key points throughout the building to burn away the growing stink of death.

Kehrsyn's clothes lay spread before the fire, slowly drying. Her bag, dagger, and rapier stood nearby. The decoy staff lay buried at the bottom of the bag, placed there when Demok had left the room to allow her to change in privacy. She sat wrapped in several warm blankets staring at the fire.

"Can't go back tonight," Demok said. "Too dark. Dangerous. We'll go in the morning."

"That's probably best," said Kehrsyn.

"Important news?"

Kehrsyn looked up at Demok's face, illuminated by the fire.

She hesitated, then said, "I know I can trust you, but I mean can I really trust you? This is big. I mean, you have to keep it secret. Really, really secret."

In answer, Demok clenched his fist and held it in the flames. Kehrsyn gasped. She saw the hairs on his arm ignite and flare into nonexistence. The smell of burned hair quickly spread.

"A'right a'right a'right, I can trust you," she said. "Please just take your hand out!"

He did so, flexed his hand, and blew on it.

"Right back," he said, took a dishcloth, and stepped outside.

When he returned, the cloth was soaked with chilly rainwater and wrapped around his hand.

"I hope you didn't hurt yourself," said Kehrsyn. "We may need your sword."

"I'm always ready to fight," said Demok. "Tell me."

Kehrsyn took a deep breath and said, "Well, first of all, Ahegi is actually Ekur."

"I grew up in Sespech," said Demok. "That name means nothing."

"Oh, right…" said Kehrsyn. "Ekur used to be a high priest of Gilgeam."

"Gilgeam I know," said Demok.

"Ekur was in charge of Shussel, which was the town where I grew up. I knew I knew him when I first saw him, but last time I saw him was over twelve years ago, and it took me until now to figure out who he was. I'm glad I finally recognized him. Anyway, I found out that he's working with the Zhentarim, and I think he was behind me stea-uh, behind the theft of the Alabaster Staff, and I think either the Tiamatans have hidden it somewhere or, more likely, the Zhents have it."

Demok looked genuinely surprised.

"He's a Zhent?" he asked, leaning forward. "How?"

"Well, the, uh, people who made me… you know… they had this map of Wing's Reach. They said they got it from the city archives, but it had all the recent additions, so it was a new map. And it had the location of the Alabaster Staff marked on it. That meant someone was a traitor. And they said as much, but they didn't know who it was, because it was this 'friend of a friend' sort of thing."

Kehrsyn bit her lip as she considered what to say next.

"I figured it was the Zhentarim," she continued. "From everything I've been hearing, they're working hard to worm their way into Unther, and despite what I said back in Wing's Reach I can't see anyone selling out to the pharaoh. The question was, who? I figured it was someone high, because they knew about the staff's hiding place. That meant it was you or Ahegi, most likely. I chose to try Ahegi first, because I figured it'd be harder to get something past you. And to be honest, I wanted it to be Ahegi, because he'd been giving me butterflies every time I saw him.

"So I find out. I write this note like I think maybe the Zhentarim would write it, and I sneak in and leave it on his bed. And for some reason he goes to talk to Massedar first, maybe to tell him he's leaving the building or something, and he goes all the way across town in a real hurry to a ship."

"A ship," echoed Demok, unable to follow Kehrsyn's train of thought.

"Don't you see? When the people came here and took all the bodies away-oh, wait, you weren't here. See, this used to be where the thieves' guild was, and-never mind, it's not important right now. But these Tiamat guys came in the middle of the night, and they took away all these dead bodies, and the guy in charge said they were going to leave them on the Zhentish ship. So these guys gave the Zhents all kinds of dead bodies! So that's why I think either Tiamat is helping them or the Zhents are using them, too."

Demok narrowed his eyes and asked, "Did they say which ship?"

"They said it was called the Bow Before Me."

Demok nodded again, running a thumb across his lower lip, and said, "It's in port, all right. It's tied up at the Long Wharf."

"Yes!" said Kehrsyn. "That's where Ekur went when he read the note. He went to the ship on the Long Wharf."

"When he got back, he ordered you killed," concluded Demok. "Makes sense."

"Yeah, maybe he spotted me shadowing him. I'm not as good as you are."

Demok ignored the comment, causing Kehrsyn to wonder if he thought anyone was as good as he was.

"So Ekur," said Demok, "an ex-Gilgeamite, has embraced Bane, Lord of Darkness."

"That sounds bad," said Kehrsyn.

"Worse," said Demok. "Devoted my life to fighting them. Had a hunch they were holing up here. Wondered if they were in Wing's Reach, the way the house rose to prominence."

"Is Massedar in danger?" asked Kehrsyn.

"Only if Ahegi finds out we know. I'll speak with Massedar directly." He rose and grabbed his swords. "You wait here."

"Please be careful," said Kehrsyn. "And tell him I'm fine."

Demok left, heading into the rain without acknowledging her request.

Demok recovered his horse and rode back to Wing's Reach, taking a circuitous route in hopes of avoiding the house guards. The horse balked at galloping in such dim light, but Demok's continued prodding kept its pace high. He was concerned that Ekur, thinking his cover blown, might try to assassinate Massedar.

He reached Wing's Reach, left his horse in the stable, and struck the stable boy to awaken him.

"Saddle," he barked, and strode into Wing's Reach.

He vaulted up the stairs three at a time to the third floor, where he went directly to Massedar's quarters. He pounded loudly on the doors.

"Whatever it is, it shall await the morning," came a sleepy and very irritated voice. "I have had my fill of interruptions."

"Demok, sir," said he. "Important!" he added, then pounded again.

Massedar muttered as he arose, the emotion, if not the exact words, clearly audible through the doors. At last the door creaked open and Massedar's face, at least a vertical quarter of it, appeared at the door.

"Speak thou thy tidings," he commanded.

"Ahegi, sir," said Demok, in a low, urgent voice. "Kehrsyn has proof he's a Zhent. The traitor we've suspected."

Massedar's sleepy eyes awoke at once, burning with fires of indignation. He pulled the door open wider and looked as if he was going to shout but fought back the impulse. Instead, he closed his eyes, clenched his fist, and drew in a deep breath through his nose.

"Ahegi…" he said, in a voice of resignation.

"Kehrsyn says he's Ekur of Shussel. Ex-Gilgeamite overlord."

"Truly is she more… more valuable than pearls."

"Where there's one priest, could be others."

"No," Massedar said, "there are no others."

"Certain?"

Massedar nodded and said, "Ahegi hath been in my employ these… thirteen, fourteen years… from the beginning. The others have I myself recruited, and none be so lettered as he."

"Best to keep quiet, anyway," said Demok.

"Well spoken, for perhaps he hath adherents of his own." Massedar shook his head, clenching and unclenching his fist. "He, a traitor. That provideth how the thief so well knew where to uncover the Alabaster Staff. Surely the black hand holdeth it now. Would that I knew what other poison and slander he hath spread amidst this house. He hath betrayed everything. The memory of his deity incarnate, the future of his people, and the trust of his benefactor. All these hath he yielded up to the hunger of a foreign god. Such bitter news must I endure. Where is Ahegi at this hour?"

"Hunting Kehrsyn."

"Seeketh he to still her tongue ere it can uncover his treason. Thus hath he pronounced his own doom," said Massedar, and though his voice was calm Demok noticed that his body trembled. "Find thou him, Demok. Do thou whatsoever thou must, to slay this wayward kin-seller who playeth the harlot to foreign gods in our ancient empire. Slay thou him ere his tongue might wag, seeking to poison thee against this house, even me. Only ensure thou that the head remaineth attached to the body, and the mouth and brain save thou undamaged. The fate of the rest I leave in thy hands and whims, if they be fast and sure. When thou hast finished, then shalt thou bring the body unto me. Thence shall we divine where his cabal hath placed my Alabaster Staff. Go thou now, to the kill."

"Pleasure, sir," said Demok, bowing ever so slightly as he turned away.

Kehrsyn huddled by the fire, wrapped in her blankets. Occasionally she turned her clothes over or rotated them around to expose fresh portions to the fire. She smiled as she saw them slowly drying. They would feel good to put on, nice and warm and dry.

A knocking at the front door sent her scrambling for her rapier before she realized that, of everyone she'd seen come and go, only Demok would have the consideration to knock. She chuckled in relief and embarrassment, quickly gathering her blankets around herself as he entered.

"Hi," she said. "I didn't expect you back so soon. Is everything all right?"

"Yes," said Demok with a dangerous smile. Though his cloak hung limp and dripped rainwater, his eyes had a satisfied gleam like that of a cat. "I am to kill Ekur."

Beside the fire, Kehrsyn closed her eyes in thanksgiving. Massedar had heard her story, and her life had been spared.

"Well," she sighed, "I for one won't shed any tears when he dies."

"Need your help."

Kehrsyn's eyes popped back open. "You need my help?" She laughed nervously. "I've never killed anyone. Well… one, but I didn't have a choice and I didn't want to and I can hardly remember any of it anyway, it was so fast. I don't see how I can be much help to a warrior like you."

"Ekur has guards," Demok said.

He looked Kehrsyn in the eye and waited.

"You want me to draw the guards away from Ekur so you can kill him?"

Demok nodded once.

Kehrsyn looked back into Demok's eyes, steely and penetrating above the determined set of his craggy face.

"I can do that," she said, for his confident demeanor bolstered her courage against the fear that clawed at her heart.

"Good," said Demok. He stood and started to walk out of the room. "Get ready. We'll catch him while he's still out."

Kehrsyn grimaced as she turned back to the fire.

"And my stuff was almost dry," she grumbled, reaching for her clothes.

Demok waited outside for Kehrsyn to prepare, speaking gently to his horse beneath the slim shelter of an overhanging roof. He saw Kehrsyn open the door, her figure silhouetted by the reflected light of the fire. He mounted up and rode over to the base of the ladder. He held his hand out to help her up behind him.

She took his hand and paused.

"So what do I do?" she asked.

"Mount up. Talk as we ride."

"No, I mean, how do I get up there?"

"Never ridden?"

Kehrsyn shook her head with an embarrassed look.

Nimbly sliding off the horse, Demok stepped behind Kehrsyn, gripped her by her slender waist, and lifted her onto the horse with one mighty heave. Kehrsyn squealed in mixed fear and delight. Once she was up, Demok mounted behind her and took the reins.

Through the rain-washed city streets they moved, Kehrsyn riding in front of Demok, gripping his arms to stabilize herself. She seemed glad to hold onto the rock-steady soldier, and, for his part, he did his level best to ignore it.

They discussed the plan as they rode, Demok constantly alert for the sights or sounds of any of the Wing's Reach guards.

"Can't I have the horse?" asked Kehrsyn. "That way I'd be sure to get away."

"No," said Demok. "Can't change. Left with a horse, have to ride back on one."

"You could say I took it from you," said Kehrsyn, turning over her shoulder to look at Demok. In answer, all she got was a wry smile.

They continued to search, crisscrossing the city streets and gradually moving closer to Wing's Reach.

"That's them," said Demok. "Lie down."

Kehrsyn lay low against the horse's back, one arm reaching forward to grip the front of the horse's harness, the other arm held close to her body with the hand tightly gripping the horse's mane. She hid her head to one side of the horse's large neck. Demok slung his cloak over her to conceal her form as well as he could. For the rest, he would rely on the poor visibility and his cleverness.

He rode up to a pair of guards carrying a lantern.

"Ho there," said one. The other sneezed.

"Ahegi?" asked Demok, casually steering away from the two, so that Kehrsyn's head and reaching arm remained on the far side of the horse. He kept his mount pacing forward, both to imply urgency and to help keep Kehrsyn concealed behind the motion.

"Yonder, two blocks out," said the guard in answer, pointing. "He's a slave-driver. The gal's long gone, but he'll have us out here searching every nook and rat hole, block by block, until dawn comes or we catch our death of the flux."

"Whichever comes second," added the other guard.

Demok waved and continued forward. He circled around to the far side of Ekur, to place Kehrsyn and himself between the former priest and Wing's Reach, then he turned his horse back toward where the guard had indicated Ekur would be found.

"Ready?" he asked.

"I guess," she replied, and he helped her dismount. "Ooh, this is cold," she grumbled as she moved away.

Demok watched as she glided down the side street in front of him, reached the end, and looked around.

She slid back and said, "This'll do. Just be sure you pass me first."

Demok nodded, and she moved off again. He waited until she was in position at the head of the side street, where it connected to the main thoroughfare. He walked his horse down the side street as well. As he approached Kehrsyn's position, he could hear her teeth chattering.

The horse passed her hiding place and trotted out into the street.

Ekur and a few aides and senior guards stood forty yards away, well lit by a cluster of lanterns. Demok noted with scorn that one fawning aide held a parasol over Ekur's head, despite the fact that the latter had a rain cloak and wore his hood up.

"Ahegi!" bellowed Demok, cupping his hands to his mouth to be heard over the heavy rain.

Three bull's-eye lanterns swung around to illuminate the horse and rider. A mere heartbeat after Demok became fully illuminated, Kehrsyn bolted from her hiding place nearby, knocking over a barrel and shovel. She fled down the street. The sudden racket drew the bull's-eye lanterns' glare.

As soon as their beams alighted on Kehrsyn's fleeing back, Ekur's shriek carried through the night: "She's heading back to Wing's Reach. Stop her! Catch her and kill her."

The portly old priest gesticulated wildly in the rain, his sheer hysteria whipping his followers to immediate action. With a clatter of steel weapons and cleated boots, everyone around, even the bearer of the parasol, rushed after the fleet young woman, their lanterns jostling in the rain like fireflies caught in a waterfall.

Within the span of a tenbreath, the street was vacant except for Demok and Ekur, the latter bearing a staff that glowed with a powerful, magical light.

"I thank thee for flushing the quarry," said Ekur as Demok rode up to him.

"She is not the problem," said Demok as he dismounted.

"She is more than trouble enough," said Ekur.

Demok stepped closer, reaching beneath his cloak to pull a small item from his vest.

"I have a clue to the turncoat in Wing's Reach," the warrior said.

Ekur drew back slightly and assumed a more commanding stance.

"Hast thou?" asked Ekur.

Demok nodded, held out one hand, and said, "This was in the quarters of one of our people."

He placed a small silver brooch in Ekur's palm, and the aged former priest brought his lighted staff closer to inspect the item. He gasped when he recognized the intricate design worked into the brooch. It was a gasp that, Demok noted, was at once both relief and alarm, as when one dodges an asp only to step upon the tail of a lion. Ekur turned the brooch over in his pudgy hand, his breath quickening in fear.

"This-these-those who follow this path are the most vile of conspirators," he blustered. "And we have one such assassin in our very midst? Why, nothing is safe! Knowest thou the name of this perfidious rebel?"

"Me," said Demok, stepping in close so that his nose touched that of the former priest.

Ekur's eyes went wide in surprise, but Demok couldn't tell it if was from hearing the sudden confession of his true allegiance or from feeling the cold short sword that pierced upward through his diaphragm and into his black heart.

Truth be told, Demok didn't care.

Kehrsyn huddled in a recessed doorway in a dark, narrow alley a few blocks from Wing's Reach, precisely where Demok had ordered. She'd easily escaped the guards. In the end, she'd followed the guards themselves as they chased her phantom feet back to their home at Wing's Reach.

Once there, she'd circled around them as they made their follow-up plan, and watched with no small relief as they departed back in the direction of Ekur and Demok. Spotting the landmarks that Demok had drilled into her, she'd found their rendezvous per his instructions. Despite her confidence, however, the cold weather teamed up with her exhaustion, both mental and physical, to make her a sodden, unhappy wretch.

She abandoned all intent of subterfuge. She stamped her feet on the paving stones, relatively dry beneath the arch. She let her teeth chatter fully, and the noise overcame even the heavy ram, at least to her ears. She wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around her and shivered uncontrollably.

She stared out at the rain, feeling entirely alone. No one was stupid enough to be out in such bad weather, and certainly no one was stupid enough to be out without a cloak. No one except her. She found herself missing the relative dryness of the crawl space beneath the back stairs of the Tiamatan temple, but she dared not move anywhere, because Demok had told her to meet him exactly there.

She was too cold to be mad. She just wanted to stop waiting, hoping her torment would end before she surrendered herself to the tears dammed up behind her eyes. How long could it take a veteran like him to kill a fat old priest, anyway?

At length, she heard the clop-clop of approaching horseshoes. Demok loomed out of the ram, leading his horse by the reins.

Kehrsyn forced a single word past her numb lips and chattering teeth, "Ekur?"

In answer, Demok walked up close to her, filling the doorway's arch.

"You realize," he said as he drew his short sword, "that you cannot enter Wing's Reach alive."