"Mystra," she said. "We should know by now that the only times I fall asleep without meaning to are when she needs to send a message via our dreams. You're to give me something, and I'll assume it has to do with our Moor working? I've a council quite irate with me for postponing two meetings and a city disappointed I shan't be on hand for any of the fetes tonight." "Not so loud, milady." Khelben barked. "There might be prying ears and eyes around." "Unlikely. I cleared the Chapel of the First Magister earlier this morning and my Spellguard keeps watch outside. Besides, we're two cellars beneath it as well. Who's likely to overhear?" Alustriel floated over then giggled, and hugged Khelben and kissed him on the cheek. "Wh-what are you about, woman?"
Khelben sputtered. "It's been years since I've been either mother or aunt, so let me be a little excited in private, you grump," the Lady Hope chided. "Even if Laeral had kept it secret, our Mother did not.
Your mate bears the children of two Chosen. Blessings, indeed, and happiness deserved." Khelben's face betrayed nothing, but Tsarra felt him pass through a maelstrom of emotions-pride, love, happiness, gratitude, wistfulness, sadness, grief, and resignation-in the space of a breath. All Alustriel knew was that her brother-in-law gruffly shrugged her off and hobbled around the bier. His, "Thank you, sister," was barely audible at all. "Khelben! You're wounded!"
Alustriel gasped. While their clothes had been restored when they exited the sham, Khelben's wounds had only been cloaked by his robes.
"Let me help you." Alustriel's arms lit with silver fire, and she knelt by Khelben's missing left leg. Her hands dripped with silver fire, and Tsarra felt a rush of life, power, and warmth, but it did not linger. From Khelben, she felt only felt his sadness, as his wounds did not heal. Alustriel looked up at him, puzzled, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. Khelben said, "My thanks, but things are as they must be. Save your strength for the working." Khelben hobbled around the bier, and his hand trailed briefly over Halver's and Lyia's names both. He cleared his throat and said, "Saproath Khar," as he touched an empty torch sconce on the far wall. The sconce flipped forward off the wall, exposing a small recess behind it.
Khelben reached in and pulled out a dusty, web-choked box. He blew off the worst of the dust and handed the box to Alustriel. The ruler of Silverymoon opened the thin box after motioning for Tsarra to join her. Inside, atop a bed of velvet, lay a white ash wand with a scarlet gem set into its top. The glow alone attracted the attentions of Alustriel's male-lights, who flocked atop the box's open side. The gem was flat on one side and perfectly rounded on the other, as if it were cut for another purpose. Alustriel looked up at Khelben. "Hosskar's Blinding Baton?" she asked. "Yes, but what it's been constructed from is more important-that gem is a selu'kiira of a grand mage of Miyeritaar. You, the Aumar, and Alvaerele shall bear them in the first circle, even though our foe unwittingly holds the third of the three.
Given Laeral's condition, I dare not allow her a kiira's touch."
Alustriel nodded and closed the box, much to the mute complaints of her lights. "Very well. You need to visit this chapel more often or at least make a donation. It's only Master Paral, his relatives, and a few loyalists. Most prefer the larger temples to Azuth and Mystra at the university grounds." Khelben moved to another part of the wall and tapped another hidden panel open with the head of his staff. A shelf slid from the recess, holding four dusty black leather-bound books. He handed them one at a time to Tsarra and Alustriel. "So far as I am aware, this is the only complete four-volume set of these prayerbooks, penned when Azuth's faith was less than two centuries old," said the Blackstaff. "They can go to Master Paral after your scribes make four copies over this winter-one for the Vault of the Sages, one for my Silverstars, another for Gamalon to take to Tethyr, and one copy for Candlekeep. After that, the originals remain here among Mystra's and Azuth's faithful. The Codici Magistiri should draw in a few zealots and many mages, once word gets around. Fair enough?" "And they say the Blackstaff knows naught about quiet statecraft," Alustriel teased, winking at Khelben. "Shall we be off then? Are we to worldwalk to the moor?" "No. We take the-what did Dove call this? Ah-'Dead Man's Walk.'" "Dove always did have a sick sense of humor," Alustriel observed, "but never as sick as your wife's." Khelben nodded, and both of them chuckled. Khelben, what's this Dead Man's Walk you're talking about? Tsarra sent silently, rather than disturb the two Chosen's banter. Simple. We just travel across the Realms using portals at my graves. "What?" Tsarra yelled. "Tell me you're joking!" "Oh, he doesn't joke, girl," Alustriel teased. "You know that." Khelben's sigh was felt as well as heard by Tsarra. None of them are truly my grave, as would be obvious. They are simply where I chose to mark the passing of previous identities. I also set portals at the graves of my aliases to allow me secure hiding places for things. Only a senior Harper, Moonstar, or a Chosen of Mystra who knows the names of my aliases can use these portals. This makes them easily but little used. We use this as we have yet one more item and two agents to retrieve. Khelben moved quickly to her side, grabbing her arm and pinning a badge on her tunic beneath her cloak. Alustriel took his other arm, and the three of them walked them toward the stone wall. Khelben said, "Acris," and instantly they were awash in sunshine. Tsarra blinked and held her hand up to shield it from the sun, and Khelben swore under his breath.
Tsarra asked, "Khelben, where-" She looked out over a small, overgrown graveyard on a hillside overlooking the sea. Waves crashed far below at the bottom of a cliff. "Wrightsvale. A village a slow day's walk northwest of Starmantle. No time to visit, as we're already running out of time, if I read that sun right." Khelben tightened his grip on Tsarra's and Alustriel's arms, backed them both up a few steps before walking toward a split and ruined gravestone, and said, "Seamar." The trio arrived in an outdoor mausoleum. Unlike the previous tomb, it held recessed biers in all four walls and a large sarcophagus in the center. Tsarra scanned the names of those buried there-Seamar Ruthyl, Adaram Ruthyl, Caras Ruthyl, and Wyrick and Nura Ruthyl-and recognized not a one, nor did any dates adorn the biers. Alustriel noticed Tsarra's investigations and explained. "Impilturans rarely date their graves, Tsarra. They count on historians to track all that, either royal or family scribes. It has something to do with keeping demons from taking on old shapes and forms, but I've never made a study of it." The sun beamed through the tiny windows at the top of the walls, their directions suggesting it was near highsun where they were.
Swearing as he floated upward, Khelben traced a complex sigil over two walls and the ceiling in the upper corner. The sigil flashed a green color, and Khelben tapped it twice with his blackstaff. Beside her, Tsarra felt the central sarcophagus of Wyrick and Nura slide backward without a sound. Looking down, she found a stairwell leading down into a chamber that was growing with light. Alustriel asked, "So who are we supposed to meet here? You never mentioned there was a chamber beneath this before, but I've only ever used Adaram's coffin to dispose of more problematic things." Tsarra asked, "Why there?" Alustriel smiled and replied, "Khelben built this mausoleum for himself as a hiding place and a way to dispose of evil artifacts he dredged from Seros-the Inner Sea. Adaram's bier was specifically built around a stable dead magic zone, making it perfect for that purpose. He's buried standing up on one end of that, which is why his bier is longer than the others." Alustriel strode forward toward the stairs, but Khelben's blackstaff whipped around to block her. "It's not safe yet. I'll call you down," he snapped. Khelben walked down the stairs, using the wall and his staff for support. He stopped in front of a torch burning with silver flames, looked back up at Tsarra, and said, "I'm sorry, lass."