When he looked at the bottle Vharem's eyebrows rose and he whistled a low unbelieving tone. "Renaer, this single bottle's probably worth a tenday's worth of tavern jaunts! The Surrilan vineyards died out in the drought seventeen summers back-and this bottle's more than eighty years old!"
"So that's good wine, then?" Meloon asked, reaching for another bottle.
"Some of the best," Renaer replied. "Vajra, how did you know this was here?"
The dusky woman smiled, her eyes flitting from purple to gray to blue to sea green. "Varad Brandarth was… a good student… faithful friend. Stingy with his wine…" She reached up for another bottle and wiped the dust and webs off on Laraelra's robes before the sorceress could stop her. She smiled and said, "Pikar Salibuck introduced us. Many secrets shared… best was this." She waved an arm around to indicate the room. "Gods, we tried…"
As Vajra whirled with her arms outstretched, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she collapsed. Laraelra grabbed enough of her sleeve to slow her before her head slammed into the stone floor, and Vharem made a mad dive to catch the falling bottle of wine. Laraelra shot him a look as she tried to settle the unconscious wizard onto the ground.
Vharem shrugged and said, "What? You had her, and we can't have her rolling around on shards of glass or soaking in priceless wine."
Meloon lifted Vajra and headed with the others back to the study. Renaer kept looking around at the contours of the room, nodding to himself, and examining the bookshelf-door and its triggering book.
"Care to explain all that?" Meloon asked as he placed Vajra on a long divan in front of the small hearth on the eastern wall.
"Varad Brandarth and Pikar Salibuck were both wizards of some note decades past," Renaer said. "They had a friend and mentor in common across the years-the Blackstaff, or at least one of them anyway. I think Vajra is possessed or has some memories of the previous Blackstaffs."
"Just realized that?" Laraelra said.
Renaer opened his mouth to respond, and then exhaled loudly and forced his hands to relax at his sides. "We're all on edge with everything that's happened, and we've had no sleep or food. Fellows, let's leave the ladies here while we find some food to go with this wine." Renaer set a bottle down on a side table, and wrestled the other two from Vharem's grip.
Laraelra sighed and said, "You're right. We all need some rest. Then with a brighter day, we can approach this with clear heads. Maybe remember things we're forgetting now. Renaer, I-"
"Offer apologies by watching her?" Renaer said, nodding at Vajra. "Thank you. Stay warm while we go forage some more food."
Meloon grabbed a few furs off the pile he'd dumped in a corner, and gave two to Laraelra and draped another over Vajra.
"Pikar was Madrak's father, by the way." Renaer said, over his shoulder. "When I was a child, I heard loads of stories that are in few histories about the hin sorcerer of Blackstaff Tower. I'll have Madrak share some of them later."
Renaer led Meloon and Vharem out of the room and closed the double-doors. The three men all shivered as they left the warm chamber for the chilly corridor. Renaer led them to the end of the hallway, down a flight of stairs, and into a large kitchen area. Renaer stayed silent, so the hearth fires did not flare up, icy downdrafts alone disturbing the cobwebs at the chimney. Meloon looked out the kitchen windows, only to see the swirl of heavily falling snow. They walked through a large pantry and down another short flight of stairs into a root cellar filled with dried herbs and bushels of potatoes and such.
"Awfully big place, Renaer." Meloon whistled. "Who did you say lived here?"
"Varad Brandarth, my grandfather's uncle. He was a wizard and one of Khelben the Blackstaffs last students. This place he kept secret from most of his family. My mother discovered the hidden portals leading to it almost thirty years ago. Varadras was empty for more than forty years after Varad died until Mother found it."
"And old Dagult doesn't know about this?" Vharem said. "Seems a piece of property he'd love to get his hands on."
"Mother always thought of this as her secret place," Renaer said, "and she shared it with me alone. Apparently, she found Varad's hidden journals by accident her nineteenth winter, and she hid here whenever she needed. Even though she held few secrets from Dagult, she never told him everything about her family or its holdings. He has never heard of this place. Nor will he."
The young lord led them through the root cellar, tossing an empty bushel at Vharem and then launching a dozen potatoes and half as many onions at him to collect in it.
"So your mother was a wizard?" Meloon asked.
"No," Renaer said as he examined a ring of dried apples before setting it back on its hook. "Neither one of us could read his spell-books, but his journals are mundane and readable. They recorded most of the words that activate magic around the manor. Even you could activate them if you knew the words."
The trio now entered one room with three archways off of it, all stone walls and ground whereas the root cellar had a bare dirt floor. Their breath clouded the air around them, as it was only slightly warmer in here than outside in the blizzard. Renaer opened one jar the size of his head and sniffed. "Hmph. If we take this up with us, the honey should thaw out by the fire. Good stuff too. Varad kept bees here, and his honey was among the few trade goods that supplemented his stipend from the family coffers."
"If all this was here, why did I need to bring food along?" Vharem complained as he examined a few large crocks of pickles.
"The only stuff Madrak and I keep here are things that won't spoil easily," Renaer said. "Unless you wanted to eat only dried meat, honey, and pickled vegetables, what we brought with us should help keep us fed for a day or so until we return to the city."
"Why wait a day?" Meloon asked. "I think Vajra needs some help."
"I think it's something to do with the Blackstaffs power, not her health. We'll have to ask her when she revives."
"Let me guess," Vharem said. "The portal that got us here only works once a day?"
"Close enough," Renaer said. "Besides, Meloon and Vajra are the only ones who've actually gotten any sleep. We need to eat, rest, and then we'll plan our return."
Meloon smiled and said, "Hey, that's a good idea." He reached up and grabbed a large cured ham covered in dusty white mold. "Let's eat this too, then."
Renaer paused as he entered the farthest larder and said, "Wait a moment. Something's been here since I was here a few months back."
"Probably just a rat or three." Vharem snorted. "Not even wizardry can keep those things out if there's food to be had."
"Bigger than a rat, and I don't know of vermin that stack things to reach high cupboards," Renaer said, nodding toward a haphazard column of boxes atop a chair in one corner.
Meloon looked close at the disturbed dust on the floor and said, "Big feet, too."
"Thanks." A dry laugh answered them from the shadows.
The trio launched into action. Meloon whirled, his axe in his hands. Vharem whipped out his newest short sword on loan from Neverember Hall. Renaer flicked a dagger into each hand and yelled the word "Ronetbar!"\n response, the very air in the room took on an amber glow, illuminating every corner and leaving no shadows in which to hide.
Lying atop one of the high cupboards and peering down at them was a young halfling, now grinning. The hin's bushy sideburns were a chestnut brown, like the curly hair on his head, and he dressed in black, which had helped him hide from them in the dark. Silver rings glinted in his left nostril and earlobe. He rolled onto his back and giggled, swinging his feet down off the high cupboard on which he lay.