"Welcome to Rose Keep," called the woman, her voice raised over the rain's patter. "Come, get out of the weather! Perhaps you'll see something you like." She gestured to her wares and smiled.
They passed beneath the tent's edge and regarded the display. Raidon cast a sidelong glance at the woman, looking for any sign of duplicity. His Sign remained quiescent, at least.
"How's business?" Seren asked.
The woman smiled and said, "I've only just reopened the compound. Things are still a little slow, to be honest.
But I think that as the bad years move farther and farther into the past, Rose Keep will see a resurgence in visitors interested in enchanted wares."
"You're Dhenna Shavres, right?" Seren asked. "Do you think it wise to revive an outlaw enclave so close to the dark mesa?"
Concern and a little fear jolted through the woman. She raised her hands in a warding gesture. She demanded, "Are you sent by Thay to bring me home?"
"Hardly. I'm Seren Juramot. I was pledged to one of the northern embassies, before Szass Tam… I'm like you. I didn't return to the homeland. I work for myself now."
Raidon glanced at Seren. Why hadn't she mentioned her past allegiance before?
Dhenna Shavres lowered her hands a fraction. She watched Seren, waiting for a false move. Then she said, "Seren… I recall that name. You were the one who secured a particularly advantageous trade opportunity in Raven's Bluff. We were all jealous here in Rose Keep."
"Right. Before everything went to the Hells," Seren said.
"Of course! Now I remember! You disappeared with the treasury of the Raven's Bluff enclave. You must be quite a wealthy woman."
"That's a lie! I didn't…"
Silence grew. Dhenna studied Seren, her eyes calculating.
Raidon moved a step forward and bowed. He said, "I am Raidon Kane, once of Telflamm. I have secured Seren's commission, and I can assure you, I have no interest in Thayan power struggles or Red Wizards. We are looking for a ritual and perhaps some healing balms if you have any, nothing else. Be at ease."
Dhenna started to respond, then glanced at door of the building behind her. Raidon noticed the door was ajar, and the figure of a child peered out.
"Mother? Your voice was raised…"
"It's fine, dear," Dhenna said. "I was merely startled to discover an old acquaintance, that's all."
The figure in the doorway gave a tentative nod, then withdrew.
"You have a child?" asked Seren.
Dhenna nodded. "My daughter's a quick study. She'll master the new weft of magic far better than I ever will."
Seren nodded. Raidon saw some of the tension fall from her shoulders. Seren offered her hand. "It is nice to meet you in person, Dhenna."
"Likewise," said the Red Wizard, still tentative. Raidon saw the woman waging war in some inner conflict. Was she still scared Seren was here on Thay's behalf? Possibly, though by the way the woman watched Seren, he didn't think Dhenna was frightened any longer. Her expression grew calculating, then cold, as if she'd decided something important.
The monk shook his head, clearing away the useless thoughts. Angul was growing restive in his sheath, and his focus had slipped when he saw the little girl. Without it, he was actually in danger of feeling true emotion. Trying to guess the motives of others made him vulnerable to reliving his own losses.
He said, "What can you offer us in elemental summoning rituals?"
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Darroch Castle, Feywild
Japheth tumbled into a dark well of his own making. He lunged for the collapsing edges of his cloak, straining to hold himself in the world. He failed, his fingers were already clenched around the Dreamheart. From it, energy trickled into his flesh, and from his flesh into his cloak. A cloak whose folds held hidden corridors. The Dreamheart opened a chasm and he fell out of Faerun and toward its fey echo. Without Anusha.
Japheth struggled for breath, as much from the pain spiking his chest as from the realization he'd left Anusha behind. The crazed, sword-wielding monk, so desperate to destroy the stone, had her now. He groaned, trying to reverse his fall through darkness bounded by what seemed to be fluttering bat wings. The traversal was taking far longer than it ever had before.
Why so long? Probably because he hadn't left his cloak behind to serve as a bridge. With no clear starting point, he was adrift. Could he become lost in this nonspace among the boundaries between the planes?
His heart took on a cadence more akin to the frantic flapping all around him. Japheth pulled more energy out of the Dreamheart and concentrated on the Feywild cavern that held Darroch Castle.
A haze of new strength wormed up Japheth's arms, warm and sickening. He seized that strength and tried to concentrate on his destination.
Instead, crazed images sleeted across his consciousness.
He saw a mountain-sized obelisk, scarred and pitted with time's unforgiving passage, held in the deep earth's firm grasp. But time's scars couldn't hide the obelisk's awful visage, its towering size and breadth, and the dark cavities that opened into a tunneled, hollow interior. The obelisk swarmed with gobbets of living slime. One was larger than all the rest, it reclined atop the obelisk like a throne. The mere suggestion of its visage yanked a scream from his lips.
The image blurred away but was replaced by another. It was Anusha, in a misted place. She was trying to tell him something, something very important. Her eyes were wild with the intensity of her desire to be heard.
Japheth recognized his dream. But he wasn't sleeping. The forlorn image assaulted his waking mind. The vision coiled up out of the Dreamheart like smoke lifting off burning incense.
The warlock dropped the Dreamheart. "No!" he said, straining for it as he and the sphere fell into the cave of Darroch Castle.
He tumbled into a heap, managing to save his head by throwing his arms in front of his face.
The Dreamheart rolled a few feet, then caught up in a gully.
Japheth got to his feet. His chest felt like it was on fire, and now his arms hurt too.
He regarded the shadowed keep, home of the Lord of Bats. A central spire rose above the castle walls. Immense wings stretched out from each side of the castle's spire, rapacious and dragonlike in their span. The cavern ceiling was a stalactite-toothed expanse thick with chittering bats.
He retrieved the relic, using the folds of his cloak to insulate his skin from its touch. Probably should have done that last time, he reflected.
When he was in the world, he stored bulky items in the cloak's extraspatial depths. Could he do the same here?
He concentrated, then passed the orb into it. The Dreamheart disappeared.
Suddenly alarmed, he reversed the process. The sphere returned. Satisfied, he banished it again. Whatever odd space items disappeared into when he stored them, the facility remained operational in the Feywild too.
Japheth advanced, treading on a growth of purple mushrooms-the same damned caps he'd used to brew Anusha's elixir of sleep. He stamped once for good measure, then moved on.
At the gates, he called, "Open!"
Wrinkled homunculi peered at him over the walls, then ducked back. A moment later, the gate mechanism clanged and chattered. The gate slabs opened like the petals of a black dahlia. He proceeded down the entry gauntlet into the foyer lit by emerald firelight, past a shadowed pool, and up four flights of stairs guarded by silent, motionless figures in obscuring shrouds.
Japheth burst into the grand study slightly out of breath. His eyes slid past the paintings, the sculptures, and the collected oddities of centuries. He studied the balcony overlooking the chamber. The balcony was bare but for an iron door. It was closed.