The cloud of white and green energy drifted around the tower, slowly becoming a spectral wolf again by its third circuit. It chased Ten-Rings foui full orbits around the tower before it snapped its jaws closed over his left hand, stripping it of flesh and rings. Khondar blasted the wolf s head off, as many green missiles crackled off his skeletal fight hand, but again, the green-white cloud drifted away slowly, lupine fearures growing back togethei slowly. The other wolf attacked from behind, snatched Ten-Rings up in his jaws, and worried him left and right, tearing his cloak off his shoulders and rending his tunic to tatters before letting him fly. Khondar fled.
Items clattered onto the cold, snow-covered stones at Vajra, Laraelra, and Osco's feet. The bracer she'd seen Khondar wear, along with a handful of rings, appeared, covered in blood.
"They started with the left hand and arm, I see," Vajra said, dispassionately.
"You mean… those wolves…?" Laraelra asked, swallowing hard and gagging as more bloody bits arrived to stain the rapidly falling snow. Laraelra staggered over to the tower's edge and retched. She wiped a hand across her mouth, then pulled at the trap door atop the tower. It opened easily, and she said, "I can't watch this. I'm sorry."
Osco kept his stomach from rebelling, but he too retched when steaming remnants of Ten-Rings's gore-soaked tunic and breeches landed with wet splats atop the pile around the Jhaarnnan Hands. He followed Laraelra into the tower, casting a sad eye back toward Vajra. "You coming?" he asked.
The Blackstaff shook her head without turning.
The Black Hunt delivers what it brings to ground, Vajra recalled reading, but she never realized that the wolves and the Black Hunt magic would be involved when she set her spells into motion. The bloody rain of rent garments continued, followed by the clang of the second bracer and the tinkling of five metallic rings. Vajra steeled herself and swallowed, whispering, "The Blackstaff is as hard as stone."
She thanked Auril silently for the heavy snow that now swirled around, as it helped blanket and deaden the strong smell of spilled blood.
Inside her head, Khelben's voice said softly, Birth and death always come with blood. Waterdeep has seen a traitor's death and a Blackstaffs birth-and perhaps more still.
Some mothers dragged their fascinated and bloodthirsty children away, while other Waterdhavians pushed forward or joined the crowd to watch the gory display. People cheered as the wolves clamped onto opposing limbs and pulled. The only things hindering people's views of the carnage were the constantly changing flight of the chase and the onset of winter's first blizzard.
Renaer, Eiruk, and Meloon smiled grimly when Khondar's eyes locked on each of theirs in succession as he passed by while flying from his tormentors. The wizard's brief pause allowed a wolf to catch him again and rend the last rings from his left hand- along with the rest of its flesh. The young Lord Neverember, Meloon Wardragon, and Eiruk Weskur were among the few folk who remained in place, watching this spectacle wordlessly. They were also among the very few who did not begin taking wagers as to which body part would be next to be damaged. They simply waited to see that justice was done. By the time the wolves charged in opposite directions to tear the body of Khondar "Ten-Rings" Naomal in twain, glow-globes shed light down on the snow gathered deep across their shoulders.
EPILOGUE
For Waterdeep to remain the City of Splendors, it needs heroes and folk of valor to carry her banners higher than commerce or politics. Splendor is not a right but a privilege, and one that must be earned by courage, not bought by coin nor conjured by magic.
20 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
The light of Selune and her Tears reflected off a fresh snowfall as the private carriage dashed past Ahghairon's Tower. "Ugh," Lady Nharaen Wands said. "I can't stand that new horror the wizards unleashed." She looked away, pulling her mink-lined hood closer to shield her eyes, but Lord Torlyn Wands could not tear his eyes away.
The now-skeletal remains of Khondar "Ten-Rings" Naomal continue to fly within the spell barriers around the tower, his skull ever turning to spot his pursuers. Also within the barriers lurked two spectral wolves, ever giving chase. Torlyn smiled grimly as the wolves flew in opposite directions around the tower, only to have Khondar's skeleton explode as the wolves tore him in two different directions at once. Lord Wands knew that the skeleton would reform and the chase would be on again-forever a warning to those who sought to abuse Waterdeep's past and its magic.
A good sign for our times, Torlyn thought. The past watches and warns us always, and we can't ignore it. Still, we have to keep moving forward-and perhaps we'll be deserving of the gifts of the past in the hopes of a brighter future.
A short time later, the carriage halted at Roarke House, and Torlyn said, "This is my stop, sister. You go on and enjoy the Gralleth ball. If our business gets concluded early enough, Renaer and I will be along."
"Can't I come with you, Brother?" Nhaeran asked. "With Hurnal being found dead, are you sure it's safe for either of us tonight?"
"We're both safe. Our cousin died because of his own dealings with Khondar Naomal. Even if the old wizard hadn't killed him to get at the Blackstaff, Lord Thongolir and his men might have done so rather than just reporting their finding his body." Torlyn smiled, and his reassuring touch on her arm calmed his younger sister. "So go to this feast with a light heart, but don't expect me before highmoon."
"I shall have to set up a number of ladies with whom you can dance when you arrive, Brother," Nhaeran teased.
Torlyn shut the carriage door and shook his head as he approached the door and knocked.
Madrak, Renaer's halfling butler opened the door and waved him in, smiling. "A pleasure to see you again, Lord Wands. This way, please."
Renaer watched from above as Torlyn, the last of his eight guests, arrived. He smiled and finished adjusting his new tunic and jacket before he headed downstairs to the dining hall. According to Madrak, the early arrivals had quickly guessed who had summoned them here to Roarke House, given the presence of the halfling setvants and cook staff from Neverember Hall. Still, as requested, all the hin begged off providing any more details when asked by simply replying, "The master will tell you when he's ready."
Renaer entered the room, and Madrak and the three other halfling servants withdrew, closing the doors behind them. Renaer strode to the head of the table and raised a goblet, toasting all.
"Friends, good health, good deeds, and good fortune to us, those we hold dear, and our city!" He looked on each of them and was glad all were now healthy and healed from their recent adventures.
After the nine of them drained their goblets and filled them again, Renaer strode to the sideboard and pulled a long chest out of the lowest drawer. "I asked you all here tonight-at the sight of our foe's failings-to thank you all for your help in these past tendays and to beg one more indulgence on my part." He placed the large box at his end of the table, opening it and withdrawing its contents one by one.
He passed each of them a small box, which opened to reveal a gold signet ring marked with a crescent moon and a star. "Look inside them as well," Renaer said. Inside the band, beneath the signet, a smooth garnet glinted in the light.