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Nain wailed. "You haven't died four times in her service. Twice by your orders." "True. I've only done so seven times, and countless others have given their lives for our plan to reach this point. Any sacrifices are worth it, and you all know it. The stakes and what we do-what we gain for the Realms-are too high to not risk all we can… all we must." His tone softened, and he reached out to rest a hand on Nain's shoulder, who flinched in response. "You are far stronger than you ever believed yourself to be, Nain Keenwhistler. Do not doubt, when this night shall show you what true strength and character can do. Believe in this and yourself." Maaril snorted behind Khelben and said, "If I'd known I would be working with simperers, I would never have left my tower." Laeral snapped back at him, "Maaril, this man needs no dragons to bulwark his power." Maaril opened his mouth to protest but stopped as Laeral narrowed her eyes at him and continued,

"In his lifetimes, Nain has faced terrors you could not without soiling your oh-so-splendid robes. Now hold your tongue, lest someone here volunteer to hold it for you." Khelben said, "Well put, my dear.

Now, we must away. Laeral, Malchor, I trust you two can ready our allies and the site." He turned on his heels, heading toward the door.

"Raegar, tressym, both of you come with me, now." Khelben moved to the door and opened it, finally turning around to face the crowd of assembled Art-wielders. He bowed from the waist, tipping his staff to his forehead in salute. "We shall all meet on the Plains of Kahyraphaal before moonrise tomorrow at Malavar's Grasp or its environs. Milady and Malchor Harpell speak for me in the meantime.

Good luck, the speed of gods, the wishes of Those who Watch, and the Moon's Benison upon us all. We shall meet in the eye of the storms before dawn." Raegar didn't understand half of Khelben's farewell, but the tone was hopeful, and most heads in the room nodded agreement.

Nameless leaped off the wardrobe and settled around Khelben's shoulders, tucking one wing under the wizard's chin to stabilize his perch. The Blackstaff's pace forced Raegar to dash after him, and the two of them left Blackstaff Tower at a fairly good clip. Raegar drew up the hood of his cloak as rain pelted down on him. He glanced up and saw lightning bolts play across the sky, thunder booming in response.

Five more lightning bolts zigzagged across the clouds and struck the peak of Mount Waterdeep. The thunder rattled shutters and startled many a horse in the City of Splendors that night. Raegar wondered if the weather was an omen of worse things to come. "Um, Lord Arunsun?" he asked, as Khelben moved far more quickly than he expected. The mage was already five paces ahead of him and marching straight down Swords Street. "Where are we going?" Raegar noticed that the rain seemed too afraid to touch the Blackstaff, as he and his clothes remained dry despite the downpour. "To the Eightower." "Isn't that tower haunted?"

"Indeed." "And we're going there because…?" Raegar finally caught up with Khelben. "Because its mistress has cause for revenge against Priamon, as do I." Raegar put on a tight, toothless smile. "Good. I'd hate to be the only one." Raegar and Khelben made their way down past Tharleon Street, and the pyramidal top of the Eightower loomed above them. It shone in the stormy night, but its light barely spread beyond the edges of the tower itself. Raegar had heard of the tower and passed it by many times. The pyramid on top was Shoon-inspired architecture that marked the building as the home of a wizard or sorcerer. He heard that anyone who crossed the threshold of the garden gate drew the attention of the spirit who haunted the grounds.

Raegar's father loved telling spook stories, but all his son remembered was that the ghost was a member of House Wands. The Wands clan kept the property undisturbed, aside from having servants harvest flowers and vegetables from the gardens, in respect for their lost ancestor. "Khelben, are you sure this will lead us to Frostrune?"

Raegar asked. As they entered the archway into the garden and stepped onto the slate flagstones of the garden path, the rogue felt a slight chill. Lightning lit up the sky in a massive triple strike of bolts into Mount Waterdeep. Just as those struck, another bolt exploded overhead as lightning erupted from the pyramid, joining its brethren in the skies. The crystal facets glowed and crackled, shimmering with energy. Khelben stared upward into the driving rain at the tower, and Raegar barely heard his reply over the wind. "Indeed."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

30 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR) The three of them walked quickly to the doors of the Eightower, only to find them shimmering with an opalescent gray field of energy.

Khelben frowned then looked up, shielding his eyes from the rain with his hand. "Would you mind a spell that would allow you to climb the walls like a spider?" Khelben asked. "I'd as soon avoid wasting spells to bypass this barrier." "Fine by me, Blackstaff. If not for that lich stealing my last pair of boots, I could do that myself." Khelben cast the spell and Raegar jumped up, his hands and boots sticking to the stone walls like glue. "I'll assume you have some way to get us inside once we're above the main floor?" the rogue said as he started climbing the rain-slick tower. "Yes, Stoneblade. Now hurry up."