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“We understand each other at last,” said the moon elf with a strange smile. He melted into the shadows and was gone.

“Merciful Mystra,” Danilo said softly. “Keeping Kymil Nimesin alive may prove to be more difficult than I thought.”

Nineteen

“By Mielikki, this is no way for a ranger to travel,” Bran Skorlsun grumbled, shaking his head free of the travel spell’s confusion. The Harper stamped his feet several times as if to assure himself that he once again stood on solid ground. The action was greeted by the crunch of fallen leaves. He and Danilo had teleported into a mist-shrouded forest. Night was deepening around them, and the nobleman pointed toward some lights flickering through the bare tree branches.

“The Halfway Inn is up ahead. Let’s go,” Danilo urged, crashing off through the fallen autumn leaves with an appalling lack of woodcraft. More skilled in such things, Bran followed him silently. Urgency quickened their pace.

In minutes Danilo and Bran arrived at a large clearing. Laid out before them was a complex of wooden buildings clustered around a large stone inn. Both elven and human merchants bustled about, busying themselves with the care of their animals, or bartering with other traders, or storing their goods for the night in one of several warehouses. Contented nickers wafted from the large stables, and the clinking of crockery could be heard through the windows of the tavern’s kitchen. The odors of the evening meal gave a pleasant warmth to the autumn air.

“The Halfway Inn was where I first met Arilyn. She left her horse here, and even without Khelben’s inquiries to the Griffon Eyrie I was quite sure she’d return for it.”

“How far are we from Evereska?” Bran asked.

“Not far at all,” Danilo assured him. “We’re just to the west of the city. The ride takes an hour, maybe two. Let’s make sure that Arilyn’s horse is still here.”

The men slipped into the stable. Danilo had no trouble finding Arilyn’s gray mare. “Let’s go to the main tavern and find someone who’ll sell us some horses of our own,” the nobleman suggested.

“Fine.” Bran pulled the cowl of his cape over his head and followed Danilo toward the sprawling stone building. As the nobleman hung his lavishly embroidery cape on a cloakroom peg, the Harper peered into the large, crowded tavern. He laid a restraining hand on Danilo’s arm.

“Who is that elf behind the bar?”

Danilo looked. A small and solemn moon elf stood at one corner of the bar, bent over what appeared to be an account book. “Him? Myrin Silverspear. He owns the place.” Danilo answered. “Why do you ask?”

“I met him once before, many years ago, on my one and only trip to Evermeet,” Bran murmured. “Odd that a captain in the palace guard should become an innkeeper.” He turned to Danilo. “You go in alone. It’s unlikely that he would recognize me, but it’s best that I stay out of sight.” So saying, the ranger slipped out of the cloakroom and melted into the shadows of the night.

Danilo sauntered toward the bar. The proprietor looked up at his approach, regarding the nobleman with silver eyes that gave away nothing. “Lord Thann. Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Myrin. I would say it’s good to be back, but I’ve had a bit of bad luck. Ale, please.”

The elf produced a foaming mug, and Danilo settled down on a bar stool and took a couple of sips. “I just lost my horse in a game of chance,” he said. “I need to purchase two new mounts. Fast.”

“The horses or the transaction?” asked the proprietor without a touch of humor.

“Well, both, I suppose. I’d like to take care of it now, since I don’t bargain well after too many of these.” Danilo lifted his half-empty mug.

The elf studied Danilo in silence. “Several of my current guests can oblige you. I would be happy to make the introductions.”

Myrin Silverspear summoned a barmaid, a slip of a moon elf whose black hair and blue-tinted skin reminded Danilo of Arilyn’s. After a few words of instruction, the girl disappeared. She returned within moments with an Amnish merchant.

Danilo took one look at the merchant’s well-oiled smile and prepared to part with most of his ready cash. The man was obviously a horse trader in every sense of the term. As were most natives of Amn, the merchant was short, thick, and dark. He wore colorful clothing that was ill suited to the chill autumn winds of the north, as well as an impressive amount of gold jewelry and an equally flashy smile. The lust for gold shone in his eyes as plainly as his gold teeth lit his smile.

For the sake of saving time, Danilo made only a pretense of bartering, giving the delighted merchant nearly his asking price. He also accepted the man’s assurances that a merchant train would leave for Evereska in the morning. With such horses, the merchant fervently swore, the young lord could sleep away the effects of many mugs and still have time to catch the caravan.

After the merchant left the taproom for the horses, Danilo cocked at eyebrow at the elven proprietor. “Not to impugn the man’s integrity, but truly, is a merchant train leaving tomorrow?”

“Three caravans plan to leave in the morning. Several more will probably pass through during the day. If you wish to enter the city, you should have no problem persuading one of them to count you among their number,” the elf said, shrewdly responding to Danilo’s unasked question.

The nobleman nodded and rose to leave. “Good. Well, I might as well see what kind of horses I squandered my father’s money upon.”

The Amnish merchant had brought the horses to the tavern door, and Danilo was pleased to note that they were indeed fine animals, black and spirited, worth almost half of the amount he had paid for them. As he led his two new mounts toward the stables, Bran fell in behind him. They found an empty stall near Arilyn’s mare, and settled down in the hay to await the half-elf’s arrival.

Throughout the night and well into the next day, Arilyn’s enspelled griffon flew toward Evereska. By late afternoon, the half-elf saw beneath her the misty foothills of the Greycloak Hills. Her heart quickened at the thought of returning to her childhood home. As the hills grew into mountains, she watched eagerly for the verdant fields and deep, soft forests of the Vale of Evereska. The hands that clenched the reins of her griffon steed relaxed somewhat, and she nudged the magical creature into its descent. Enspelled for enhanced speed, the creature was capable of covering large distances. Even without the magic enhancement, it was an extraordinary beast with the strong, tawny body of a lion and the head and wings of a giant eagle.

Arilyn knew better than to try to fly directly into Evereska. The city was so well guarded that she would have little chance of surviving such a flight. Outposts dotted the mountains surrounding Evereska, and sharp-eyed elven watchmen would spot her within five miles of the city. If she should try to fly above the range of their vision, she would likely encounter the patrols of giant eagles who circled in the sides. The elven archers who rode these mounts were known never to miss a target.

So Arilyn steered the griffon clear of the walled city and the surrounding vale, instead swooping low over the western forest. She saw a familiar clearing, dominated by a large stone building and ringed with wooden structures and bustling merchants.

Since a griffon could not land in the middle of the busy merchant town without causing a stir, Arilyn urged her winged mount toward a nearby glen. The beast’s enormous wings curled in an arch like that of a giant hawk, and it descended to the earth in a tight spiral. The pads of its lion’s paws touched the ground, and with great relief Arilyn dismounted. With a final shriek, the griffon took off for Waterdeep, and Arilyn strode toward the stables of the Halfway Inn.

Her mare was there, sleek and well-conditioned. Arilyn patted the horse with genuine affection. She wished that she had time to seek out and thank Myrin Silverspear, but he would understand that she could not. Arilyn left a small bag of coins in a pre-arranged place in the stall as payment for the horse’s care.