As soon as Tyveris reached them, his exuberant expression vanished. "Let me," he said softly, helping Caledan ease the Harper to the ground. The loremaster looked at Estah with deep concern.
"You must act swiftly," Morhion said. "The enchantment of the tomb will no longer preserve her spirit."
"I'm not going to be able to do this alone, Caledan," Estah said, drawing out her silver medallion inscribed with the sign of Eldath. The healer brushed Mari's dark hair from her face, laying an expert hand on her brow. The Harper's features looked deathly. "I can make her body whole, but her spirit has already gone far away," Estah explained. "You must give her a reason to return to us, Caledan."
"Me?" Caledan said, staring at the healer. "But the Harper hates me now, Estah. You know that."
The wise halfling woman scowled at Caledan. "Must you always act like such a child, Caledan? We really don't have time for that now. Mari needs you." She laid the medallion on Mari's chest.
Caledan swallowed hard. Tentatively he reached down and held Mari's hand. What could he say to her?
Suddenly he knew.
This time he did have the power to save the one that he loved. He would not let this second chance pass him by. Slowly he slipped the copper bracelet from his left wrist.
Farewell, Kera, my beloved, he whispered in his heart. He slipped the bracelet over Man's hand.
"I love you, Harper," he said simply, knowing it was the truth. "Come back to me."
For a single, terrifying moment nothing happened. Then suddenly the medallion hummed with a faint, sweet sound, like the song of running water. But the sound faded, and still Mari did not move.
I have failed, Caledan almost whispered.
Then the Harper's fingers closed tightly about his hand, and he stared at her in wonderment. Man's eyes fluttered and flew open. She looked around in confusion, and her gaze locked on Caledan. A surprised smile touched her lips.
"So you didn't leave me after all, scoundrel," she said, her voice husky.
"Ill never leave you, Mari." He looked up at Kellen, and for the first time Caledan saw the boy smile. It was a hesitant, almost fragile expression. Still, it was a smile all the same. Caledan grinned in response. "Never," he said gruffly. He bent down and touched his lips to Man's.
Suddenly Mari began to laugh.
"What is it?" Caledan asked her, a bemused expression on his face.
She reached up a hand and brushed his cheek. "You need a shave, scoundrel, that's what."
Epilogue
It was the first day of summer, and all of the windows in the Sign of the Dreaming Dragon were thrown open to let in the fresh air and sunlight. It was still early in the afternoon-the usual crowd of customers would not start arriving until the shadows grew longer-and save for Caledan and Mari, the common room was empty.
Jolle was out behind the inn working on the garden, and Estah had taken Pog and Nog, along with Kellen, to the free market. In the last weeks merchant ships had streamed freely in and out of Iriaebor's port, and the merchant stalls in the market were filled with goods, both ordinary and exotic, from every corner of the Realms.
Caledan and Mari sat at one of the inn's freshly scrubbed wooden tables. Between them rested a small package which had been delivered earlier along with a sealed parchment scroll.
Mari deftly broke the wax seal and unrolled the scroll, watched her face carefully as she scanned the words on the page. Her hair glowed with a deep, rich hue in the sunlight streaming through the door, and blooms of color touched her cheeks. In the weeks since they had fled from the destruction of the crypt, she had already regained much of her strength.
"It's a missive from the Harpers," Mari said, rolling up the parchment. "From Belhuar Thantarth, the Master of Twilight Hall."
"And?"
"And this is for you," she said, pushing the package toward Caledan.
He looked at her questioningly. Her smile was mysterious. He sighed, swallowed hard, and undid the leather ties that bound the small parcel. He upended the pouch over his hand. A small, silvery object slipped out.
It was a pin, wrought in the shape of a crescent moon encircling a harp.
"Congratulations, Harper," Mari said.
Caledan stared at the pin in amazement. At most he had expected a word of thanks from Thantarth for helping Mari complete her mission. But this he had most definitely not expected.
"Here. You wear it," Mari said wryly, when it was clear all Caledan was going to do was stare at the pin. She carefully fastened the symbol of the Harpers to the shoulder of his new slate blue tunic. The pin glimmered brightly in the sunlight, a twin to the one that adorned Mari's forest green jacket Caledan laughed and took Mari in his arms. The two embraced for a length of time that might have seemed improper were they not alone.
Suddenly the sunlight that spilled through the doorway darkened. Caledan looked up in surprise to see a hulking shadow standing in the open door. The shadow took a step forward.
"Tyveris!" Caledan exclaimed. "It's about time you came by for a visit."
The big loremaster smiled, pushing his gold-rimmed spectacles up on his nose. 'Things have been busy at the city lord's tower," Tyveris said, joining the two at the table. He sighed ruefully. "Really busy."
Caledan laughed. Tyveris was working as an advisor to City Lord Bron, helping to plan the restoration of Iriaebor. It was a position Tyveris had taken reluctantly. After leading the victorious battle in the dungeons, the big lore-master had become nothing less than a hero in the city. The day following the battle the citizens had called for Tyveris to enter the High Tower as city lord. It was a job he did not want. He was a priest, and perhaps even a bit of a warrior still, but he was most certainly not a bureaucrat.
Luckily for Tyveris the old city lord, Bron, was discovered that same morning locked in a small, hidden chamber in the dungeons beneath the tower. Though pale from lack of sunlight and weak from over a year of confinement, Bron was still a man of considerable presence, and the cityfolk were overjoyed to see him alive and well.
However, despite Bron's reappearance, a significant number of citizens still called for Tyveris to take up rule. It was Bron who had proposed Tyveris accept a position as his advisor, and the loremaster, realizing he had little choice in the matter, had agreed. Everyone in the city was thereby made happy-except Tyveris, but apparently he did not count.
"You're looking almost respectable today, Caledan," Tyveris remarked, eyeing Caledan curiously. Caledan had finally traded in his worn black leather traveling gear for newer, less unsavory attire, and he had even taken to shaving regularly. However, much to Mari's chagrin, he still hadn't given up his road-worn, faded blue traveling cloak. He had to draw a line somewhere. "Nice pin, too," the big monk noticed.
"Thanks," Caledan said, almost surprised at the pride in his own voice.
"I thought you might like to know that the last of the Zhentarim from the dungeon have been sent in a caravan to Darkhold," Tyveris told them.
"I'm still not certain that was such a good idea," Caledan remarked with a frown. "Why give the Zhents their own warriors back? We may have to fight them again someday."
"Bron didn't want them filling up the dungeon indefinitely," Tyveris explained. "They're a rather dangerous bunch to have hanging around, and, what's more, they eat a lot. Besides, Caledan, I think you know how the Zhentarim treat those of their number who fail them." He drew a finger meaningfully across his neck.