Everyone tumbled through the ravaged opening of the graveyard gate, following the clear tracks of the stone statue leading them north, deeper into the cemetery.
As always in the City of the Dead, Sophraea's vision shattered into pieces. She felt as if she looked through the eyes of a dozen Sophraeas, all showing her glimpses of this part of the graveyard or that part.
"Your eyes are burning blue," Gustin stated. "Your face is shining like a candle. Sophraea, what do you see?" "Too much," she replied.
All around her, she could see the outlines of the dead, keeping pace with her as she followed Gustin's statue.
Every tomb's occupant, every grave's sleeper, was awake. And waiting to see what would happen next. Gustin's own attempt to reverse the curse earlier had roused them all.
Behind her, she could see just as clearly that Rampage Stunk was urging on his frightened men. He did not know the pathways, the twists and turns, as she did. But the marks of the statue's passage were clear in the snow and he would have no problem following them.
And behind Stunk came her family, Astute and Reye, Leaplow and Bentnor, all the uncles, aunts, cousins, and sisters-in-law. All following because they thought she needed help. And she was terrified for them all.
"Sunset," whispered Gustin, as if raising his voice could disturb that expectant hush that filled the City of the Dead.
At her other side, Lord Adarbrent walked without comment. But she knew the old nobleman also was aware of the dead keeping pace with them and the enemies following behind him. It was written in the straightness of his back and the keen glances he darted from side to side.
Snow continued to fall, muffling their footsteps upon the paths, granting an eerie quiet to the memorials they passed. The shadows seemed deeper, blacker, in contrast to the white piling up at the base of the tombs.
But when Sophraea concentrated her vision on what was actually before her, she could see to the west the faintest glimmer of red.
"Not sunset, not just yet," she answered Gustin.
Lord Adarbrent too glanced to the west.
"Not quite night," he agreed. "But almost. And not a night to be long within these walls."
"No, we'll do what needs to be done and leave," Sophraea said. Then her vision of what was behind her obscured her sight and made her stumble on the path. Gustin caught her and held her steady.
"Stunk's men," she informed him, "they saw my family and they've turned back. They'll be fighting again."
And blood spilled upon the snow, on that night and in that place, would bring disaster upon them. That thought sprang into her mind as easily as she knew the right turn to take or the name of the monument that they were passing.
"Too many ofthe dead are awake," she said, desperate to convey her insight to the men beside her. "We need to keep everyone moving, keep my family and Stunk's men from fighting! If they do fight, it will be like meat thrown before hungry dogs!"
"Can you make a light, wizard?" asked Lord Adarbrent, turning back the way that they had come.
Gustin nodded. A blazing ball of white light appeared in his cupped palm. He tossed it once or twice and then flung it upward. It whizzed into the sky, breaking apart in a shower of sparks.
Shouts came from behind them. Gustin's firework had been seen!
"That will bring them running," said Lord Adarbrent. The old man stood in the center of the path, an old-fashioned silhouette against the snow. Flakes settling on his black hat formed a pattern like a white plume. "It is me that Stunk wants. He will pursue me farther into the graveyard. Let the dead follow us if they wish."
"No," protested Sophraea. "You don't understand. It's not like it was before. Something is stirring. Something worse than before."
"But it started with the spell that I cast," said the old man. "So, let me help now, to make amends."
"If you leave us, you might not be able to find your way out," Sophraea said. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see paths shifting, bushes bending down to hide the way, and, everywhere, shadows weaving black webs of confusion. On this night, only a Carver could safely find her way out ofthe City of the Dead. Sophraea was sure of that!
"If I am lost," Lord Adarbrent said, "then it is a sacrifice I make for'one of the great families of Waterdeep. Captain Volponia was right. Waterdeep needs Carvers, just as much as it needs nobles and wizards, merchants and adventurers, and all the rest. Your family is as much a part of Waterdeep's history and its future as all the rest. You keep the City of the Dead beautiful. And you keep it safe."
Sophraea chewed her lip. Letting the old nobleman sacrifice himself for her family seemed wrong. The snowflakes fell like cold tears on her upturned face.
Another shout, this one behind them, made her turn. The topiary dragon galloped toward them, half swimming through the snow. Briarsting rode high on his bushy steed's neck, waving wildly at them.
"It's all chaos and confusion, from one end of the City to the other," the thorn called to them. "The City Watch has shut all the gates. The Blackstaff and the Watchful Order are warding all the walls!:"
"Are there any living in the City of the Dead?" Sophraea called.
"Just that crowd that's following you," said Briarsting. "We saw them pass and knew you had to be close. I've been searching for you all afternoon. Met your brother chasing the dead down the paths toward your house. Now there's a boy who likes a fight! And then, every light and flame went out. That's when the Watch started yelling for everyone to clear out and locked down the gates!"
"That was me!" said Gustin.
"Did you know dousing the light was like ringing an alarm in the ear of every corpse within these walls?" the thorn inquired. "It wasn't intentional," Gustin said.
"And there's a great statue stumping its way toward the Markarl tomb," the litde man added, standing high on his perch and squinting his eyes against the flurries.
"That's mine too," said Gustin.
"Well, you have had the busy afternoon," Briarsting concluded. "But now what?"
"We need your help," Sophraea said. "Yours and every guardian that you. can rouse."
"Every ghost and spirit with a friendly feeling toward Waterdeep is striving to keep the gates closed tonight," Briarsting stated.
Sophraea closed her eyes for a moment and, in her Carver vision of the graveyard, she could see that Briarsting was right. Glimmers of silver and gold stood before the public gates and along the wall, working as hard as the City Watch and the wizards of the Watchful Order on the other side to keep Waterdeep protected from the dead in the coming night. Heroes and legends, even the bright flare of some long-forgotten dead god, ringed the outer perimeters to hold the living city safe.
Only the Carver's gate and Dead End House behind it was unprotected. Lord Adarbrent's curse was a black break in the shimmering circle of ghosdy goodwill.
"We need to get to the Markarl tomb," Sophraea said, her eyes popping open to contemplate her companions. "But can you bring my family and Stunk and Stunk's men there too? Help Lord Adarbrent lead them that way, but keep them from fighting?"
The topiary dragon swept its tail from side to side, sending up a spray of snow.
"We can do it," Briarsting swore.
"Are you sure?" said Lord Adarbrent.
Sophraea nodded firmly. "Your noble dead will not sleep if they smell blood within these walls," she said with conviction. "Keep my family and Stunk's men apart but bring them to us. We need them all to be there when this is finished."
So we can get everyone safely out of the City of the Dead, she thought, but did not want to jinx her luck by speaking this out loud.
Catching Gustin's hand, Sophraea hurried toward the Markarl tomb.
They passed the reflecting pool. Out of the corner of her eye, Sophraea saw that the weeping warrior no longer covered her face. The stone woman stood very straight, stone sword and shield upraised, to protect whatever lay beneath her feet.