Vharem smiled and followed Renaer's footsteps exactly. "Thanks, Madrak!" he said as he vanished into thin air.
Laraelra stepped under the arbor and along the same path as Renaer. She also rushed into nothingness. Meloon timidly followed suit and vanished just as Madrak s bucket poured the last of its water into the statue's hands. -
Madrak smiled as not one drop of water remained to betray what he'd been doing. He quickly walked back to the servants' exit, hugging himself for warmth. He left his cloak on a peg just inside the three-foot-high hidden exit. When he descended through the passage down to the kitchen, he stopped and peered through a spyhole and found exactly what he expected-a cadre of Warchmen bullying the staff for information.
Time to buy the young heroes some time to do some good, Madrak thought. 'Tis about time someone did.
Inside the door, he had left an empty slop bucket to explain what he'd been doing-throwing kitchen scraps onto the compost on the roof. As he had done exactly that, there was no way for anyone to claim he lied. Now he simply had to stall for time and keep the Watch from asking too many questions about his lord.
CHAPTER 8
10 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
Khondar nearly jumped out of his chair when an unexpected knock on his door disturbed his inadvertent nap-. The tome he had been reading before he fell asleep tumbled to the floor. Already, his dream of a wizard in charge of each ward of the city faded to obscurity.
"Who dares disturb me?" he snapped. He picked the tome off the floor as he adjusted his chair. He placed the tome inside his desk and closed the drawer.
"The Blackstaff," came the reply.
"Come in, come in," Khondar said. "I'm honored by the Black-staffs presence." Behind the closed door, Ten-Rings grimaced at the irony of what he said, given his hatred of the man whose guise his son wore.
The man entered the chamber and closed the door behind him. "Can we talk here?" the Blackstaff asked. "Is it safe?"
"Yes," Khondar said. "One of the few benefits of this poor office location is that a previous tenant set rather durable spells to prevent anyone from hearing anything from without."
"She finally gave up some secrets, Father." The Blackstaffs form shimmered, and the bearded face of Khondar's son smirked at him.
"What are you prattling about, boy?" Khondar said. "She's been out of our grasp since last night-thanks to your and Granek's failures."
Centiv frowned at the reprimand, his shoulders slumping, and he said, "I've already apologized for that. There was nothing I could do, short of being captured myself. I stabbed her to keep her from talking and hid her as best I could in short time."
"They're children and amateurs, Centiv," Khondar said. "You should have just blown them all away." Khondar turned away and stared out his window.
"In those tight corridors? I'd have roasted myself!" Centiv growled. "Not all of us can hide behind so many magical rings to protect us from spells blowing back on us."
Khondar's face blazed with tight-lipped fury, but he kept his temper when he asked, "What was it you came to tell me? How does Vajra spill her secrets now?"
Centiv beamed. "I had a tome and quill magically recording everything said within her cell. I'd hidden it behind an illusion in the cell across from her. After I left Roarke House with those records and books just ahead of the invaders, I used one of my other illusory guises and went to her chambers we keep over on Keltarn Street. I spent much of the night reading the transcript. Vajra had babbled a few things-names, locations, dates, item names, and the like-but we never thought they were anything more than random thoughts or words to stall Granek's next wound. She repeated them at night when Granek and we were gone, as if she were talking to herself. When you look at them all at once, they have a pattern-"
Khondar got up from his chair slowly, glowering, and asked, "You recorded everything?"
"Yes, and when I found-"
"Everything? Centiv, you fool! That's now evidence of our direct involvement!"
"I already destroyed the evidence, Father-once I confirmed she spoke the truth." "What?"
"I found a pattern in a few passages of the transcripts. Each place she mentioned also corresponded to a person's name she blurted out. I've spent the day looking at every place she mentioned and found every person she named. Once my status as the Blackstaff cowed people out of my way, I could search for secret chambers or compartments in their locations. I found a few scraps of parchment hidden in each location. By themselves, the parchment scraps are nothing but trash. But together… well, here."
Centiv tossed the dozen fragments up into the air and cast a minor spell on them as they floated. They fell into place as one scrap on Khondar's desk. They spelled a single name: Sarael.
Khondar looked up at his son, irritated, and raised an eyebrow in question. Centiv smiled and motioned with his hand to flip the parchment over to reveal Elvish script on it.
Khondar — sighed. "You know I don't read Elvish, Centiv. Stop showing off and tell me what you know."
"It says, 'The first heir of his body points the way to a new heir of his spirit. The Tears light the way.' I am certain this refers to Khelben Arunsun, the first Blackstaff. His first son was Sarael Arunsun, whose mausoleum resisted the Spellplague, unlike many others. We simply need to wait for moonrise and visit the tomb of Sarael Trollscourge in the City of the Dead. There, we should find what we seek."
Khondar thought long and silently, his fingers steepled in front of his face, his gold and silver rings all glistening. He nodded finally and looked up at Centiv. "Very good work, Son. I'll send Eiruk Weskur with you in case you run into trouble. He's loyal to a fault and will just assume this is guild business. He'll meet you at the gates of the cemetery at nightfall."
"I don't need his help on this," Centiv said. "I could have done all this without telling you, after all. I might have just brought you the secrets after the fact!"
"Well, you didn't, and this isn't the first time you've had the chance to show initiative and failed me. I'm not going to let your tendency to panic when confronted with the unexpected ruin our plans. Now take Weskur with you and we'll mind-wipe him later if we must. Just get whatever the Blackstaff has hidden in that tomb."
"But I don't-"
"Enough!" Khondar slammed his hands down on his desk. "I will not be questioned by my own child! We'll meet at Roatke House when you have the secrets."
Centiv wrapped himself in the illusionary guise of Samark "Blackstaff" Dhanzscul. His illusions did not disguise his anger, though, and he slammed the door behind him. Khondar shook his head. He and his third son shared so much, like the magic that drove them from the superstitious backwater of Sundabar more than two decades ago. Unfortunately, they also shared a temper, and Khondar wondered how much longer their scheme would hold up before someone's temper lost it all.
"Of course, I know that," the Blackstaff told the guard. "My predecessor was the one who created that law. Now step aside. I mean to honor that predecessor's son this night, on the anniversary of his greatest victory. Worry not. Only benefit shall come from blind eyes toward us."
He levitated a large bag of coins at the guard, who took it, then nodded at his younger compatriot who unlocked the gate.
"Come along, Weskur," the Blackstaff said, waving his companion forward.