The open hand of peace and a loyal heart gains you alone entry. Eiruk heard the deep voice in his head and struggled to keep his face from revealing his shock. He felt another stab of pain behind his eyes and heard the voice again. If ye truly be friend, Blackstaff Tower will welcome you. All others will only enter to gain knowledge in accord with their hearts.
Eiruk felt a searing sensation in his palm. It ended swiftly, and then he felt stone scrape against the top of his knuckles. A large bundle apparated beneath his touch. He closed his hand, hooking his fingers beneath what felt like leather bindings", and pulled a large parcel out of the shield. As he did so, the light emitting from the statue and the light inside the shield both winked out. Eiruk found no visible mark on his palm, though he felt magic pulsing beneath his skin. He would have to study it later-on his way to Blackstaff Tower for more answers. The leather bundle in his hand was sealed with a complex sigil unmistakable to many Waterdhavians-the wizard mark of Khelben Arunsun, lord of Waterdeep and the first Blackstaff.
"What happened?" The false Blackstaff turned around, angry at the interruption of his activity. "What did you do, Weskur?"
When he saw Eiruk held something, he dashed forward and snatched the leather bundle from his grasp.
Eiruk kept calm and said, "When you cast spells at that spot, the statue's shield here became some sort of portal. I reached in and withdrew this."
The false Blackstaff tore at the leather bindings, ignoring Eiruk and the significance of his predecessor's mark on the parcel.
Inside the surprisingly supple and warm leather wrap were two bundles. One, wrapped in lighter kid leather and stamped with an Elvish rune Eiruk didn't recognize, was round with an obvious bulge on one side. The other was an elaborate scroll tube carved from a dragon's leg bone and set with gold-plated runes and many gems. From the weight of the bundle, Eiruk also knew the tube held far more than the usual few parchments.
Eiruk watched the Blackstaff examine the parcel and tube. The young man resisted the urge to expose the imposter before him. Eiruk knew there was no one here to help him, and his foe's power might be far stronger than his subterfuges. For now, the young wizard held his tongue. Perhaps Maerla Windmantle, another guildsenior of the Watchful Order and one with whom he usually studied and worked, would be able to help. If he could find Vajra, they could expose this fraud of a Blackstaff.
The false Blackstaff looked up at Eiruk. "You should smile, for you've done well. You have the Blackstaffs thanks." The false Blackstaff retied the leather straps and tucked the bundle into his belt pouch. "Let us return to the Towers of the Order and show Master Naomal the fruits of our work tonight."
Eiruk could resist no longer. He had to test the lying wizard as the pair of them headed back toward the Weeping Gate. "As you wish, milord. If I may, will you tell your apprentice Vajra that I asked after her welfare? If she is ill, I'd be happy to visit any apothecary."
The Blackstaff shot a look back ovet his shoulder at the younger man. "Thank you for your offer, Eiruk, but no matter. Vajra suffers naught. She merely winters with her family down among the hills of Tethyr. She returns with the spring." With that, he pulled his hood tight around his head and said nothing more.
Eiruk worried that this imposter had harmed Vajra. While she only returned his love as friendship, Eiruk knew Vajra would not leave the city without saying farewell.
No, Eiruk thought. Maerla needs to learn of this tonight, no matter how late.
"Thank you, Eiruk," Ten-Rings said. "That will be all. Return to your room and remember nothing of this night but a long, peaceful sleep."
The wizard finished his spell, and Eiruk Weskur walked calmly out of his office and down the stairs toward the younger guild members' dormitories. Once he was gone out of sight, Khondar closed the door, turned around, and said, "Not here." He rested his hand on his companion's shoulder and said, "Oralneiar."
The two men disappeared from the Tower of the Order with a chuff of imploding air.
They reappeared in a small, cold room lit only by a meager fire. Two tables flanked the hearth, both piled with scrolls and books. The table farthest from the window held a sculpture of two human hands carved from hematite, rings winking on every digit.
"Show me," Khondar said. "Show me, boy!".
Ten-Rings muttered a few arcane words, and two glowballs flared to life above the tables in his work chamber.
"I wasn't sure what we had, but I recognized both Khelben's mark and the Elvish rune." Centiv's face shimmered back into focus as he dropped his Blackstaff illusion. He reached to the rough table beneath the window and handed his father the tome Samark had brought with him out of Khelben the Elder's tomb. The sigil on the cover matched the one on the kid leather bundle.
Ten-Rings muttered, "That book's protections proved beyond our skills."
His hands out of Khondar's sight, Centiv clenched his fists in frustration against the constant jabs. He had spent eleven days more than Khondar studying the tomes, and he knew the words and letters just swam about, as if he tried to read the book through a foot of wind-shimmered water. When he could catch a recognizable letter or sigil, he could only tell it was a word in Dwarvish, the next in Elvish, another in some form of Draconic. Centiv hated that his father rushed to judge what was beyond Centiv's skills when Khondar's own proved lacking.
"I know, Father." Centiv said. "But given that sigils on the covers match, perhaps this can help us with the book." Centiv unwrapped the kid leather to reveal a hand-sized lens of clear amber crystal.
Khondar snatched the crystal away from Centiv with a growl and held the crystal over the first page of the tome. Through the lens, the page swam as usual, but after a moment, both could see the letters stop shimmering and settle into place. Better still, the letters reformed into Common, and both men read the title.
Lore and Awareness of the Dark Archmage's Acolytes: On the Assumption of Power as the Blackstaff or the Blackstaffs Heir.
Beneath the title page were five signatures-Khelben Arunsun, Tsarra Chaadren, KyrianiAgrivar, Krehlan Arunsun, and Ashemmon ofRhymanthiin-and their wizard marks after them.
Laughing loudly, Khondar threw an arm around Centiv's shoulders, a move from which his son initially flinched before smiling at the show of paternal pride.
"You've done it!" Khondar said. "You've found the way we can make the Blackstaffs power our own! Now if we can just make sure that Tethyrian bitch stays out of the way…"
"In a way, I did so earlier today…" Centiv's flush of pride deepened as he thought about the report his agent Charrar brought to him the previous dawn. While he bristled at the costs in lives and gold, Centiv was grateful he had had to silence only one agent instead of six to cover his tracks. He marveled at the luck Renaer and his friends seemed to have. They had very nearly caught him, all thanks to that skinny witch's muting spell. Before this was over, Centiv knew he had to rip the secret of that spell from her, both to resist it and to exploit it. With that spell, he might even force his father to acknowledge him as an equal…
Dagrol, the Watch armar, entered Shank Alley along with an accompanying wizard of the Watchful Order, both of them with their staves at the ready. The five other Watchmen were either in