"It is like a telkiira, but more powerful," Araevin explained. "A telkiira is really not much more than a book. It stores whatever information its creators care to place in it-spells, memories, secrets, anything. When someone accesses the telkiira, they can 'read* that information quite quickly and accurately, but their comprehension is limited by their own skill and knowledge.
"But a selukiira, a high loregem, is something different. It is a living thing, and it can teach those who view it. It is said that a selukiira can make an apprentice into a high mage in the blink of an eye, if it so chooses. Or it might destroy the one foolish enough to use it, in order to protect the secrets it holds."
"Do you think Philaerin owned the selukiira you saw in the telkiira?" Ilsevele asked.
Araevin shook his head and replied, "If he did, he would not have told me. He wouldn't have shared that secret with many people at all. But… I don't think the selukiira was in Tower Reilloch. This telkiira here-" he held up the dark stone in his hand-"seems to indicate the direction and distance to the next stone. I can feel it in my mind, far to the east… almost certainly somewhere in Faerun. And I suspect that if we were to examine the second stone, we would find directions to the third of the set, which would in turn reveal the location of the selukiira I saw."
He set the telkiira on the low table by the divan, and stood up, frowning as he paced around the room. The study seemed darker, more threatening than it had a right to. Ancient mysteries and hidden peril whispered to Araevin in chill, dead voices.
Seiveril ran a hand through his hair and said, "Well, this is quite a day you have brought to my doorstep, Araevin. One stone missing, one stone found. Deadly battle and foul sorcery on Evermeet's shores. I fear that great and terrible events are afoot."
"I am sorry, Lord Seiveril. It seemed prudent to bring the Tower attack to your attention."
"No, you did well, Araevin. I did not mean to suggest otherwise." Seiveril sighed and continued, "I must go to Leuthilspar and confer with the queen at once. We will see if we can divine the location of those who stole the Gatekeeper's Crystal from Reilloch. Amlaruil will want to send our foremost champions in pursuit of the thieves. In the meantime, Lord Muirreste and his knights should suffice to reinforce Tower Reilloch against any additional raids."
"What about Philaerin's telkiira?" Araevin asked.
"Finding the other stones may offer some insight into why the daemonfey wanted them," Ilsevele observed. "And if you know why the daemonfey want the lorestones, we might understand what exactly they are trying to do with the Gatekeeper's Crystal."
"Or perhaps they wanted the telkiira because they don't want that high loregem found," Seiveril mused. "Could it be a weapon they fear? Some secret weakness they're afraid we might exploit?" He looked up at Araevin and said, "I will seek Corellon Larethian's guidance in this matter, but for now, take the stone. My heart tells me that we need to answer this riddle that Philaerin has set for us, whether he meant us to or not."
"I think so, too," Araevin said. He picked up the stone and slipped it into the pouch at his belt, murmuring a spell of safekeeping as he did so. "I meant to return to Faerun soon, anyway. I'll leave tomorrow."
Ilsevele fixed her eyes on him and asked, "You'll leave tomorrow?"
"I think," Araevin said, "I meant to say that we will leave tomorrow. That is, if your father will allow me to carry you off thousands of miles from home."
"I stopped trying to tell Ilsevele what she could and couldn't do a century ago," Seiveril said with a laugh. "I'm pleased to see that it didn't take you quite so long to learn not to do that. But both of you-be careful."
In the depths of the High Forest stood a great stone bluff, a rocky tor blanketed by a shaggy cloak of twisted felsul trees and hearty blueleafs. Between the arms of the hill stood a weather-beaten stone door, overgrown with ivy. For years companies of adventurers had gone there to explore its depths and seek out its hidden treasures. They knew it only as the Nameless Dungeon, and had no idea how or why it had come to be built. But the elves of ancient Eaerlann had known the place as Nar Kerymho-arth, the Sleeping Citadel, and refused to name it aloud. They had meant for its secrets to remain hidden for a very long time indeed.
Sarya Dlardrageth studied the door in the stone hill, her arms folded across her chest.
Without taking her eyes away from the door, she asked, "Did any escape?"
"No, my lady," Nurthel replied. "Lord Xhalph slew them all."
The elves of the High Forest and the nearby realms had long maintained a watch over the ancient elven road leading to Nar Kerymhoarth to warn away would-be explorers. Sarya had no particular interest in the sentries, so long as they did not interfere in her business, but she was pleased that her minions had been thorough. There was no point in leaving witnesses, after all.
She gestured to her son Xhalph, who stood nearby. Like her, Xhalph was a true daemonfey, half-elf and half-demon. His father had been a glabrezu, a huge four-armed monstrosity of the Abyss. She did not recall that coupling with any great pleasure, but it had served its purpose. Xhalph was taller and more strongly built than the mightiest human warrior, and he had inherited his demonic father's four arms, which made him quite a dangerous swordsman indeed. Of course, he also had a fierce temper and no gift at all for the study of magic, but all the daemonfey could call upon the infernal power of their heritage to rake their enemies with abyssal spells.
Xhalph carried the Gatekeeper's Crystal in a small casket between his two lower arms. At his mother's command he opened the small chest and offered her the weapon.
"Shall I use it, Mother?" he rumbled.
"No, dear boy. I will do this myself. The magic warding Nar Kerymhoarth is impenetrable, but the Gatekeeper's Crystal can sunder any obstacle. I am curious to see which proves the stronger."
Sarya carefully separated the crystal into its three component parts again. One she kept for herself. The other two pieces she gave to two of her fey'ri, who knelt before her.
"Now, listen closely," she said to the fey'ri. "You two will each take your piece of the crystal and carry it about three hundred yards to each side, so that the three of us form a triangle surrounding Nar Kerymhoarth, with a third at each corner. When you are in position, I will activate the crystal. You are to hold your fragments steady, but do nothing else. I will wield the magic of the device."
"Yes, my lady," the two fey'ri said.
They each took their pieces and set off at once, arrowing through the overcast skies to alight high on the shoulders of the hill, overlooking the cleft in which Sarya and the others stood. The daemonfey queen eyed their positions carefully, then gestured for the fey'ri to separate a little more. Then, content with their placement, she focused her attention on the brilliant crystal in her taloned hands, and summoned forth its power.
Instantly, a blazing line of energy sprang into existence, linking each of the three pieces and forming a triangle of fire above Nar Kerymhoarth's hilltop. Sarya recoiled, but maintained her hold on the gemstone. Despite its brilliance and the ravening power streaming from its depths, it remained cool to the touch and steady in her hand. The actinic light glared back at her from the hoary stone doorway, shadows snapping like banners in a gale.
Her fangs bared in a ferocious grin, Sarya invoked the crystal's most terrible power. In the space of a heartbeat, every spell, every ward, every shred of magic that existed within the bounds of the burning triangle ceased to exist. Ancient enchantments laid thousands of years before, strong enough to bind and hold for uncounted ages, were sundered in the blink of an eye. All the mighty magical power that had been laid into Nar Kerymhoarth's building and its defenses came unshackled in a single calamitous detonation. The force of the blast hurled Sarya and her followers to the ground. Vast portions of the hillside were thrown into the air, and came crashing down in the forest below. Thunder pealed throughout the ancient woods, rumbling like the roar of some massive dragon.