The trio approached the western wall, and Tsarra shielded her eyes slightly as they crossed a strong sunbeam coming through the tall windows. The wall held a display of weapons: an arc of seven swords atop a quartet of shields and a row of nine daggers.
Khelben said, "My Lord Wands, I believe we can test my student's knowledge to find the item that we seek."
Tsarra took her time, looking the weapons over from top to bottom then she said, "It's the third sword among the seven-the silver pommel with the sapphire tang button, two more sapphires on its steel-banded scabbard."
Maskar's eyebrows rose, and he chuckled. "Very good, girl. How did you know that?"
The old man muttered a command word before he magically floated the sword off the wall and into Khelben's waiting hands.
Tsarra whirled when Khelben smacked his palm on the nearby table and cursed, "Hrast!"
Tsarra silently asked, What is it? What's the matter? Didn't you need this sword?
No-the scabbard was actually more important in this case, Khelben replied then spoke aloud. "Lord Maskar, when was the last time someone removed this sword from its perch?"
"My sons and nephews made use of all of those weapons to fend off Myrkul's Horde sixteen years ago. Other than that, it has stayed there. Only three of us can remove the weapons from their places."
"Well, Lord Wands, someone tampered with this regardless. I don't have time to check the sword's authenticity, but the scabbard is a forgery. Were it true, we would have seen blue sparks the moment we entered this room." Khelben fumed, smacking his fist into his other palm as he paced.
"What?" Tsarra yelled. "You risked the lightning again without warning me?"
Khelben stared out the window. "No. The lightning only occurs when three of them are within a certain proximity. Two together only spit out sparks to cue the seeker as to their connections."
Tsarra lashed out at Khelben. "I can't believe you! With all that's gone wrong, you don't even warn me?"
Khelben said, "You are more than capable, Tsarra. I also knew there was no danger of the lightning today."
"Like you knew at the tower?" Tsarra snapped. "Danthra's dead, Khelben. Dead! Do you need the tower to collapse before you part with another secret? Are the secrets more important than people?"
Khelben's shoulders sagged then he stiffened his back and replied,
"No, that was never my choice. That happened because Mystra willed Danthra's fate. Even if I had tried to prevent it, the results would have been the same for all of us, perhaps with greater costs. You must believe that, Tsarra, if nothing else."
"Why should I trust you?" Tsarra screamed, pent-up frustration fueling her rage. "How many more of us will die for your precious secrets?"
"Tsarra, that's enough. We need to move on to our next errand."
Khelben said, his voice gaining an edge of exasperation.
"Tish-tosh, child," Maskar said, putting a kindly hand on her shoulder. "Khelben loves his secrets, but you must know he loves good people more, even if he hides it." His merry eyes helped Tsarra calm down, and he nodded as he moved closer to Khelben by the window. "I heard something had blown a hole through the tower. That's not happened since my father's day and the Harpstar Wars."
Taking the sword from Khelben's hands, the old man set it on the table and pressed his palm on the surface beside it. Hands morphed from the table's surface to hold the sword and scabbard fast.
Khelben said, "It's obvious someone stole the scabbard long ago-it may have happened during Epira's collusion with the Guildmasters a century back. We cannot spare the time to look for it, but we'll hope to find the remainder of the items before our foe claims the true legacy."
Tsarra sat down on a chair, clenching her fists. She tried to listen in to the archmages across the room, but the ringing in her ears made that difficult. "Good. A second favor, milord, is to see Belkram's Fall. Using the Yawning Portal right now would draw untoward attention." "Young lady, we'll need you over here, please," Maskar called, and Tsarra rose from her chair. She felt slightly dizzy and no less angry, but she approached and the wizards each took one of her hands. Maskar spoke an incantation, and instantly they went from the sun-flooded study to a dark stone room with no light. Torches flared to life around them, blue flames dismissing the darkness and revealing a small chamber with a massive sealed doorway. Khelben and Maskar had their backs to the door but dropped their hands and turned to it. They intoned together, "Ahrakelsharith Hilathrellas Orekarla Belkrammath."
The stone door split down its middle and opened like wardrobe doors.
The scraping of stone was loud in the small chamber. Bile rose in Tsarra's throat, as she smelled decay and death on the chilling draft of air that rushed out the doors. Khelben stepped to the edge, and Tsarra followed, more curious than invited. She looked past the doorway to see only darkness, and looking down, she perceived a massive shaft disappearing beyond the edge of the light. She heard distant sounds and saw some flickers of light far below, but she couldn't identify what they were. Tsarra gulped, her dizziness and nausea not abating at all. "How far down does this go?" "We've never measured it properly, dear," Maskar chuckled. "We only know we've never heard anyone hit bottom." "Belkram's Fall is perhaps thrice the length of the City of Splendors, give or take a ward." Khelben remarked flatly. "It was once a major mining shaft for the Melairkyn dwarves when they worked the Underhalls. We're not descending, though.
Merely sending a message." "Into Undermountain?" Tsarra gasped. "Why would you want to get the attention of the Mad Mage?" Khelben produced a small carved stone swallow from his pocket. He cast a number of spells on the bird too quickly for Tsarra to follow then tapped the bird's head three times. It woke in his palm, twittered a gleeful greeting, and took flight down the tunnel. In its wake glittered five different colors of magical sparkles, but within moments even those sparkles had vanished. Khelben said, "Those defenses should allow it to pass through the antimagical fields that span the shaft and get my message through. As to your question, sorcerers and wizards both must attend to some courtesies, regardless of power-or perhaps because of it." As Tsarra looked down, her dizziness increased, as did the smell of decay. The ringing in her ears became the patter of rain on stone, as the vision overwhelmed her. Tsarra collapsed, and as she pitched forward a small part of her brain wondered what would happen next.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
12 Kythorn, the Year of Unleashed Fears (451 DR) The young man looked down upon his captors. "You have left me but one avenue, my lords. Sure, are you, that you want to force this path upon me? You know not what you do." "You have nerve, boy, I'll give you that. I expect bluster from a sword-bearer, not a boy wizard in humble woolen robes." The wizard hovered near to him and bared his fangs. "Youngling, you are the ignorant one. You wandered off the path and stepped into Silorrattor. You found us, to your despair. Reap what you sow." "Nay, wait, Kaeth," the second said, his voice a grating of iron on stone. "This one carries the secrets of elves, does he not?"
The black-skinned wizard let his gray hood fall back, pointed ears and white ponytail revealing his drow nature. "My agents tracked him from Myth Drannor itself and led him to us, Ahaud. More importantly, he carries secrets from the Seven as well." Yessss… the third projected, a stray tentacle waving outside the edges of its cloak's hood. Let usss ssssuck the sssecretssss from hisss mind… "You forget, Saquarl, of our pact," the fourth figure said from the throne at the center of the tower's floor, her voice softer. She stepped off the shadowy throne's dais and into the light. "All prefects share equally of magic gained, or else we see it destroyed before others benefit from it." The woman shrugged off her umber cloak, revealing a voluptuous figure in a shimmering red gown that flattered her like a sycophant. "I have other ways of making the boy talk. Palron? Ready him for my interrogation." "Of course, milady Xaerna. At once." The floating wizard gestured, and when his arms slashed through the air before him, the young man's robes ripped away. The young wizard was naked and still suspended from his invisible magical bonds. His rent robes and cloak fell to the floor near Saquarl, disturbing the dust.