The phantom laughed, a haunting yet lovely sound, like the call of a far-off horn. "Fear not, my good, cunning rogue. The only danger that awaited thee at my tomb lies now at the bottom of the precipice, quite dead, as I might well know. No more harm will come to thee, at least not in this place."
Caledan managed to regain a semblance of composure. He nodded in solemn respect, then dared to speak again. "Then you know why it is we have come seeking your tomb, Talembar."
Slowly Talembar nodded. "Yes, I do know. But I cannot tell thee the secret of the shadow song, Caldorien. For the simple reason that I have forgotten it."
"Forgotten it?" Caledan said incredulously. "But how could you forget something as important as that?"
"The spirit world is far removed from ours, Caldorien," Morhion interposed. "The veil that separates this world from that is heavy and obscuring. Eventually the dead must forget the world of the living, else they would never be able to leave it behind."
"Alas, what the mage doth speak is true," Talembar said sadly. "And I think had thou arrived a century later than thou hast, I may not have come to greet thee at all. Most of my memories of the daylit world are as if viewed through a hazy mist, muted and dimmed by the centuries that have passed. A few memories stand out clearly like glimmering jewels, but even these are growing fewer. I remember creating the shadow song, Caldorien. I remember playing the song upon my pipes to wrest the Nightstone from that being of darkness, the Shadowking. But alas, what the precise notes of the song were eludes me now. I am sorry."
Caledan sighed, swallowing his frustration. There was little use in shouting at a ghost.
"Is there anything at all you can tell us?" Mari asked the phantom. "Anything that might help us to understand the secret of the song?"
The shadow of Talek Talembar paused for a long moment, his gray eyes lost in thought. He seemed to be growing dimmer as the sun sank toward the western horizon. Finally he made a gesture of regret. "Of that, I can tell thee nothing except…" Talembar frowned in concentration, then he shook his head. "… except that thou might look for its echo in the place where last it was played. That is all."
The phantom had grown more transparent and was beginning to fade.
"Do not despair yet, Caldorien," Talembar said. His voice sounded hollow and distant, as if echoing down a long corridor of stone. "It is true that a great darkness awaits thee beneath this city you call 'Iriaebor.' I know, for I have faced it. But I defeated it. It is in thy power to do the same, Caldorien, for thou doth possess the shadow magic."
Caledan frowned in puzzlement. 'The 'shadow magic'? You mean that trick of making shadows move on the walls?"
Talek Talembar glowered angrily, and for a moment Caledan shivered. "It is far more than a trick to amuse children, Caldorien. The shadow magic is the key. None dare play the shadow song unless he be a friend of the shadows. It is a gift most rare and precious, Caldorien. It is for thy shadow magic that the shadevar was sent to slay thee. How is it thou didst not come to know this? Why, even the maiden who stands beside thee knows that what I say is true."
Caledan felt a coldness slice through his chest. He turned to stare at Mari in disbelief. Her face was pale, her eyes wide. Mari knew about the importance of the shadow magic?
"'Ware the darkness within the hollow Tor, lest it be freed to wreak grievous ruin upon the land," Talembar warned. Little remained of the phantom now but a faint, blurring outline. "Remember, Caldorien, only you may stand before it. Yet do not forget how the strength of each of thy companions may steady thee."
The ruddy orb of the sun dipped beneath the western horizon. The tendrils of mist scattered in the wake of a sudden breeze. The phantom was gone.
Like a mantle on the land, purple twilight descended. The companions were silent. All faces were turned toward Caledan. Mari's dark eyes were wide. "Caledan, let me explain," she said, reaching out and gripping his arm.
He shook her hand off. "What's to explain?" he said acidly. He felt sickened; his head ached fiercely. "You and the Harpers have been using me all along, I see that now. You knew that Ravendas was searching for the Nightstone, didn't you? Just as you knew that only someone with the shadow magic could reclaim it from the Shadowking's crypt." Mari shook her head but did not deny his words. The others stared, dumbfounded. "That's why you sought me out," Caledan growled. "Not because I was familiar with Iriaebor or Ravendas, but because the Harpers knew about my shadow magic."
Mari bowed her head. The wind caught her dark auburn hair, lifting it from her troubled brow. Then she looked up. Her dark eyes shone with sorrow. Caledan glared at her, his lip pulled back almost in a snarl.
"Is it true, Mari?" Tyveris asked softly, his voice heavy.
"I did know," she said. "The Harpers knew. We didn't know any of the details, of course-certainly not about Talek Talembar or the shadow song. All that our spies had learned was that the Zhentarim Lord Ravendas was searching beneath Iriaebor for an object of power called the Night-stone, and that she had-at least at one time-expressed interest in finding someone who possessed something called shadow magic. A few older Harpers remembered your ability, Caledan. That was when the Harpers decided to send me to seek you out"
Estah watched worriedly. Ferret nervously fidgeted with a dagger, flipping it from hand to hand. Tyveris started to say something to try to break the tension in the air, but then Mari went on, the words tumbling from her lips. "Thantarth, the Harper who gave me this mission, feared that you would never have agreed to help us, Caledan, not if we had simply come straight to you and told you that we needed you and your magic."
Caledan grunted. 'Thantarth was probably right on that account. He knew I would have laughed in his face if the Harpers had come begging to me. But tell me this, Harper. Did Thantarth order you to pretend to love me as well? Or was that a little bit of improvisation you came up with on your own to get me to do what you wanted?"
"No!" Mari shouted.
"Don't worry, Harper," Caledan said sharply. His eyes were hard and cold. "You've accomplished your mission perfectly. I'm going back to Iriaebor, and I'm going to keep Ravendas from getting her hands on the Nightstone. But it's not for you, or the Harpers."
He shot a dark glance at Morhion. As always the mage's handsome visage was impassive. "This time," Caledan said, 'I'm going to get my revenge against Ravendas. So send a missive to Thantarth, Harper, and inform him that everything has worked out just as you hoped. You've done your job. And when this is all over, you can go back to Twilight Hall in Berdusk and be with your precious Harpers, and I won't ever have to look at you again." Caledan spun around, his boot heel grinding against the cold stone. Tyveris laid a hand on his shoulder, but Caledan jerked free and stomped away.
"Caledan!" he heard the Harper cry behind him. He did not let himself hear the anguish in her voice. "Caledan, come back!"
He kept his back to her as he walked away.
Seventeen
"You have failed me, Snake." Ravendas prowled about her chamber, clad in a gown of midnight black. She held a polished, gold-hilted stiletto, twirling it absently in her hands. She paused before an intricate tapestry depicting two lovers embracing in a greenwood. "You know what I do with servants who fail me."
Snake watched her with his hard, flat eyes. "It is true Caldorien escaped your Zhentarim sorcerer in the Fields of the Dead, my lord," Snake said in his dry voice. "Yet he must find his way back to Iriaebor. We shall have all the gates into the city guarded. He will not escape us."