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“I agree with Mina for once,” said Nightshade. “I don’t trust these two as far as I can stand the stink of them. Who’s this Master they’re talking about?”

“Nuitari, God of the Black Moon,” Rhys answered.

Nightshade gave a dismal groan. “More gods. Just what we need.”

“I have to find the way downstairs,” Mina told Rhys. “You two stay here, keep an eye on them.”

She pointed at the wizards, then, casting them one last baleful glance, started walking about the great hall, poking and peering into the shadows.

“If it is Nuitari, I wish he’d just shut the door,” Nightshade stated, watching the Beloved, who were watching him back.

“If he did, we might not be able to get back out,” said Rhys.

Caele and Basalt had been conferring all this time.

“Go on,” Caele said, and he gave Basalt a shove. “Ask them.”

“You ask them,” Basalt growled, but in the end he came shambling up to Rhys.

“What are those fiends?” he asked. “We know they’re some sort of undead. Nothing we tried seems to stop them. Not magic, not steel. Caele stabbed one through the heart and it fell down, then it got back up and tried to strangle him!”

“They are known as the Beloved. They’re undead disciples of Chemosh,” Nightshade explained.

“Told you,” Basalt growled at Caele. “That’s her!”

“You’re full of it,” Caele muttered back.

“How did your tower come to be here in the Blood Sea?” Nightshade asked curiously. “It wasn’t here yesterday.”

“You’re telling us!” Basalt grunted. “Yesterday we were in our tower safe at the bottom of the ocean, minding our own business. Then there was an earthquake. The walls started shaking, the floor was the ceiling and the ceiling was the floor. We didn’t know if we were on our heads or our feet. Everything broke, all our vials and containers. Books went flying off the shelves. We thought we were dead.

“When everything stopped shaking, we looked out and found ourselves stuck on this rock. When we started to crawl out through a side door, those fiends tried to murder us.”

Rhys thought of the power that had wrenched this tower from the bottom of the sea and he looked at the little girl, wandering about, searching behind pillars and tapping on the walls.

“What’s she doing? Playing hide-and-seek?” Nightshade cast a nervous glance at the Beloved and another at the two wizards. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t like this talk about stabbing people in the heart—even if it was a Beloved.”

“Mina—” Rhys began.

“Found it!” she announced triumphantly.

She stood beneath an arched entryway, hidden in the shadows, that led to another, smaller spiral staircase.

“Come with me,” ordered Mina. “Tell the bad men they have to stay here.”

“This is our tower!” Caele snarled.

“Is not!” Mina retorted.

“Is so—”

Basalt intervened, clamping his hand over Caele’s arm.

“You’re not going anywhere without us,” Basalt said coldly.

Caele growled in agreement and snatched his arm from his partner’s grasp.

“Atta and I will keep an eye on them,” Rhys promised, thinking it better to have the wizards where he could see them rather than having them skulking along behind.

Mina gave a nod. “They can come, but if they try to hurt us, I’ll tell Atta to bite them.”

“Go ahead. I like dog,” Caele sneered. His lip curled. “Baked.”

Mina entered the archway and started to descend the stairs. Nightshade followed after her, with Atta at his heels. Rhys came last, keeping watch out of the corner of his eye on the two wizards. The half-elf was talking rapidly into his cohort’s ear, making jabbing gestures with his hand, emphasizing a point by stabbing it with a dirty finger. The dwarf didn’t like whatever the half-elf was proposing, apparently, for he drew back, scowling, and shook his head. The half-elf whispered something else and the dwarf appeared to consider this. At length, he nodded and called out.

“Wait, Monk! Stop! She’s leading you to your death,” Basalt warned. “There’s a dragon down there!”

Nightshade missed his footing, slipped on a stair, and landed hard on his backside.

“Dragon? What dragon?” The kender rubbed his sore tailbone. “I didn’t agree to a dragon!”

“The dragon is the guardian of the Solio Febalas,” said Basalt.

“The Solo Feebleness?” Nightshade repeated. “What’s that?”

Rhys could not believe he had heard right.

Solio Febalas,” Rhys said with a catch in his voice. “The Hall of Sacrilege. But… that can’t be. The Hall was lost during the Cataclysm.”

“Our Master found it,” said Basalt proudly. “It’s a treasure trove, filled with rare and valuable holy artifacts.”

“They’re worth a king’s ransom. Which is why the dragon is guarding it,” Caele added. “If you try to enter, the dragon will kill you and eat you.”

“This just gets better and better,” said Nightshade glumly.

“Pooh, the dragon won’t eat anyone,” Mina said calmly. “She didn’t eat me and I’ve been down there. The dragon’s name is Midori. She’s a sea dragon and old. Very old.”

“Rhys,” said Nightshade, “I’m sure there are lots of kenders who would really love to be eaten by a sea dragon. I don’t happen to be one of them.”

“There speaks a man of sense! You and the monk should come back upstairs,” Caele urged. “Basalt and I will go with the… er… little girl.”

“What a great idea!” exclaimed Nightshade, starting to head back up the stairs.

Rhys caught hold of him, turned him around.

“We will stay with Mina,” he said, and he continued on down, bringing Nightshade along with him.

There was more whispering behind him.

“The Master won’t like us going down there,” he overheard Basalt say.

“He won’t like it if they rob us blind, either,” Caele retorted.

Basalt clamped his hand down on Caele’s wrist.

“Don’t be a fool,” said the dwarf, adding something in a language Rhys did not understand.

Caele grunted and twitched his sleeve back in place, but not before Rhys had caught the glint of steel.

Rhys turned away. The two were clearly up to no good and he guessed this had something to with the Solio Febalas, the Hall of Sacrilege. If they were telling the truth and Nuitari had found the lost Hall, then what the half-elf had said about it being worth a king’s ransom was true. Ransom enough for a hundred kings! Artifacts, relics, potions blessed by all the gods were said to have been confiscated by the soldiers of the Kingpriest. Truly a treasure trove for anyone, even two followers of Nuitari.

These artifacts had been forged in the Age of Might, when the power of clerics was unsurpassed. Priests of all the gods would pay dearly to acquire holy and powerful relics long thought lost. Most prized of all, most desired, would be artifacts blessed by Takhisis and Paladine. Though the two gods were gone from the pantheon, their ancient artifacts might still retain their power. The wealth of nations would be a small price to pay for such a treasure.

I want to bring a present to Goldmoon…

Rhys halted suddenly. That’s why Mina had come to the tower. She was going to the Hall of Sacrilege.

Nightshade, hearing him stop, twisted his head around.

“The stairs are slick,” said the kender. “You should be careful. Not that it matters if we fall and break our necks, since we’re all going to be eaten by a vicious sea dragon!” he added loudly.

“No, we’re not!” Mina yelled. She came bounding back up the stairs. “The dragon’s gone.”

“Gone!” Caele sucked in a breath.

“It’s ours!” Basalt gasped.

The two wizards shoved past Rhys, jostling each other in their clamorous haste to reach the bottom.