Gerard ran his hand through his hair. “As if I didn’t have enough trouble, now some evil curse has been cast on Crystalmir Lake—”
“What’s that?” Rhys asked, startled. “What about the lake?”
“Can’t you smell it?” Gerard wrinkled his nose. “It stinks to high heaven. Fish dying by the hundreds. Washed up on the shores over night. Rotting in the sun. Our people depend on the water from that lake and now everyone’s afraid to go near it. They say it’s cursed. What with that and a crazy woman on my hands—”
“Sheriff,” Rhys interrupted. “I have a favor to ask you. I am planning to go away for a little while and I need someone to take care of Atta. Would you look after her?”
“Will she herd kender for me?” Gerard asked, his eyes brightening.
Rhys smiled. “I will teach you the commands. And I will find a way to pay for her board and keep.”
“If she herds kender as good for me as she does for you, she’ll more than pay for herself,” Gerard held out his hand. “You got yourself a deal, Brother. Where is it you’re going?”
Rhys did not answer. “And you will continue to care for her if I don’t come back?”
Gerard eyed him intently. “Why wouldn’t you be coming back?”
“The gods alone know our fate, Sheriff,” said Rhys.
“You can trust me, Brother. Whatever trouble you’re in—”
“I know that, Sheriff,” said Rhys gratefully. “That’s why I have asked you to care for Atta.”
“Very well, Brother. I won’t pry into your business. And don’t worry about the dog. I’ll take good care of her.”
As the two continued on down the corridor, Gerard had another thought, an alarming one, to judge by his tone.
“What about that kender? You’re not going to ask me to keep him, too, are you, Brother?”
“No,” Rhys replied. “Nightshade will be coming with me.”
5
“A death knight,” said Nightshade.
“According to the goddess, yes,” Rhys answered.
“We’re supposed to go to Storm’s Keep and confront a death knight and rescue the goddess’s son’s spirit, which is trapped in a khas piece. From a death knight.”
Rhys nodded his head in silent confirmation.
“Have you been drinking?” Nightshade asked seriously.
“No,” said Rhys, smiling.
“Did you get hit on the head? Run over by a wagon? Stepped on by a mule? Fall down a flight of stairs—”
“I’m in my right mind,” Rhys assured him. “At least, I think I am. I know this sounds unbelievable—”
”Whoo-boy!” Nightshade exclaimed with a whistle. “But here is the proof.”
He and the kender stood on the road several hundred yards from the shores of Crystalmir Lake. The name came from the lake’s deep blue crystalline water. The name was a misnomer now. The water was a sickening shade of yellow green and smelled of decaying eggs. Untold numbers of fish lay on the shore, dead or dying. Even from this distance, with the wind blowing away from them, the smell was appalling.
Nightshade held his nose. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You know that I’ll never be able to eat fish again,” he added in aggrieved tones.
The two of them walked back toward Solace, passing the crowds of people who had turned out to see the fish-kill. Everyone had a theory, from outlaws poisoning the lake to wizards casting a curse on it. Fear tainted the air as badly as the smell of dead fish.
“I’ve been thinking, Rhys,” Nightshade said, as they headed back into town. “I’m not very trustworthy and I’m not at all good in a fight. If you don’t want to take me with you, my feelings won’t be hurt. I’ll be glad to stay with the sheriff to help care for Atta.”
He put his hand on Atta’s head, petting her. She permitted this, although her gaze was intent on Rhys.
He smiled at Nightshade’s generous offer. “I know this is dangerous. I would not ask you risk your life, my friend, but I truly do need you. I won’t be able to tell for certain which khas piece contains the knight’s soul—”
“The goddess told you it was the black knight,” Nightshade interrupted.
“My mother had a saying,” said Rhys wryly. ” ‘Consider the source.
Nightshade sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“In this case, our source is not very reliable. She might be lying to us. Krell might have lied to her. Krell might switch the spirit from one piece to another. For my plan to work, I must know which piece holds the knight’s soul. You are the only one who can tell me. Besides,” Rhys added with a smile, “I thought kender were adventurous, filled with curiosity, utterly without fear.”
“I’m a kender,” Nightshade said. “I’m not stupid. This is stupid.”
Rhys was inclined to agree. “We don’t have much choice, my friend. Zeboim has made it quite clear that if we don’t attempt this, she will kill us.”
“So instead the death knight kills us. I don’t see that we’ve gained a lot, except maybe a trip to Storm’s Keep, and we probably won’t live long enough to enjoy that. You know, Rhys, most people wouldn’t trust a kender with such an important mission. And I must say that I can’t blame them. Kender cannot be counted upon. I’d leave me behind if I were you.”
“I have always found you to be eminently trustworthy, Nightshade,” Rhys replied.
“You have?” Nightshade was taken aback. He sighed. “Then I guess I should try to live up to that.”
“I think you should.”
” live’ being the optimal word.” Nightshade stressed this point.
“Look at it this way. At least we’ve accomplished something,” Rhys pointed out. “We’ve attracted the god’s attention.”
“Something people with any sense would avoid,” Nightshade said crossly. “My dad had a saying. ‘Never attract a god’s attention: “
“Your father said that? Really?” Rhys cocked an eye at the kender.
“Well, he would have if he’d thought about it.” Nightshade stopped in the middle of the road to argue the point. “How do we even get to Storm’s Keep, Rhys? I don’t know anything about boats. Do you? Good! Then that’s how we get out of this. We can’t go to Storm’s Keep if we can’t get there. The goddess must see the logic in that—”
“The goddess will send us on the winds of the storm, I suppose. I have only to let her know we’re ready.”
Nightshade rolled. his eyes. Atta, seeing her master downcast and unhappy, gave his hand a gentle lick. He stroked her head, rubbed her beneath the jowls, smoothed her ears. She crowded close to him, looking up at him sadly, wishing she could make everything right.
“She’ll miss us,” said Nightshade in a choked voice.
“Yes,” said Rhys quietly, “she will.”
He rested his hand on the kender’s shoulder. “All your life you have worked to save lost spirits, Nightshade. Think of this as something you were born to do—your greatest challenge.”
Nightshade pondered this. “That’s true. I guess I will be saving a soul. But if that’s true for me, Rhys, what about you? What were you born to do?”
“Like all men,” Rhys said simply, “I was born to die.”
Later that morning, outside the Inn of the Last Home, Rhys knelt down in front of Atta and placed his hand on the dog’s head, almost as if he were bestowing a benediction. “You are to be a good girl, Atta, and mind Gerard. He is your new master now. You work for him.”
Atta gazed up at Rhys. She could hear the sorrow in his voice, but she didn’t understand it. She would never understand, never know why he had abandoned her. He stood up. It took him a moment to speak.
“You should take her away now, Sheriff,” he said.
“Come, Atta,” said Gerard, issuing the command Rhys had taught him. “Come with me.”
Atta looked at Rhys. “Go with Gerard, Atta,” said Rhys, and he motioned with his hand, sending the dog away.