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"So the reason that the Dlardrageths vanished from our history is that we imprisoned them, and forgot we had done so," Araevin mused. "How were they freed, then?"

"I am not sure. I believe some of the Siluvanedans who followed Dlardrageth avoided detection and imprisonment. They survived for thousands of years as a secret enemy of Eaerlann, concealing their demonic heritage and evil ambitions." Quastarte shrugged and continued, "As for those who were imprisoned… well, as you know, Ascalhorn eventually became the site of a mighty human city in the centuries following the fall of Netheril. In the Year of the Curse, almost five hundred years ago, Ascalhorn was overrun by a swarm of demons and devils. It became known as Hellgate Keep. If the daemonfey were imprisoned beneath it, perhaps the demons infesting the place found their prison and let them out."

"Or perhaps, when Hellgate Keep was razed five years ago, their prison was finally breached," Araevin said slowly. "The raiders who attacked Tower Reilloch might have been the descendants of these ancient, evil Siluvanedan houses, or they may have actually been the ancient prisoners, finally freed."

"You referred to some of these demon-elves as daemonfey, and others as fey'ri," Grayth asked Quastarte. "What is the difference?"

"That is a little confusing, isn't it? The scions of House Dlardrageth were the daemonfey. They seem to have possessed higher, more powerful demonic bloodlines. The Siluvanedan Houses who owed allegiance to Dlardrageth are the fey'ri, tainted and dangerous, but not the spawn of demon princes. Many of my sources use the term daemonfey to refer to both the daemonfey-the elves of House Dlardrageth-and the fey'ri, the elves of the other Houses."

Grayth nodded and sat back in his chair, silent.

Quastarte cleared his throat and said, "I hope you'll forgive me, but I must speak to Mage Araevin in confidence."

"Please excuse us," Araevin said, "My workroom, Lore-master?"

The two mages withdrew from the sitting room and left Araevin's chambers. The workroom was close by, only one floor down and a short distance through the tower's echoing halls. Araevin spoke the passwords needed to pass the magical defenses of his workroom door, and stood aside to allow Quastarte in first.

The loremaster waited for Araevin to close and seal the door before he asked, "Have you learned anything about Philaerin's telkiira?"

"Little other than the fact that the daemonfey are searching for it," Araevin replied. He went on to relate his success in accessing the lorestone, the story of his search for the second stone, and his encounters with the daemonfey sorcerer who seemed to be his appointed nemesis. "I have just succeeded in opening the second telkiira" he concluded. "It contains more spells-two I have never heard of before, the others much as you might find in any wizard's spell-book-and directions toward the third stone."

"So this moon elf wizard Ithraides created this set of telkiira, and gave one each to three other wizards," Quastarte said. "And you have hints of another wizard, a sun elf, and another lorestone, a selukiira. That would be quite a find. High loregems are not scribed on a lark."

"Do those names mean anything to you, Loremaster? Ithraides, Morthil, and the others?"

"No, but I will inquire after them at once." Quastarte frowned and said, "This puzzle grows less clear with each day. Given the fact that you found the second stone in a secret cache in a tower obviously abandoned for many years, I wonder when the story of the telkiira meets the story of the daemonfey. Do these lorestones date all the way back to the days of Siluvanede, or possibly even Arcorar? Or are they a more recent development?"

"I suspect I'll know when I find the third stone," Araevin replied with a shrug.

"I wonder if it is wise to seek it out? Perhaps it would be better to leave it where it lies."

"Nothing hidden can remain so forever. The third stone will be found, so I might as well be the one to find it." Araevin swept the two lorestones from the table and replaced them in his pouch. "I don't suppose you learned anything more about these?"

"Nothing in Philaerin's journals or notes so much as hints at such a telkiira".

"That does not surprise me. Thank you for your help, Loremaster," Araevin said.

"It was nothing. Besides, Lord Miritar may have need of what we have learned about the daemonfey."

Araevin paused, then asked, "Why is that?"

"Knowing the history of the Dlardrageths may suggest a way to defeat them, of course." Quastarte looked at Araevin, and sudden comprehension dawned in his eyes. "You don't know!" he gasped.

"Don't know what?" Araevin said.

"An army of the daemonfey has arisen in the Delimbiyr

Vale, and is marching against both Evereska and the High Forest."

"What did you say?"

"Lord Miritar is gathering a host to fight them in Faerun. Both the wood elves and the Evereskans requested Ever meet's help. The council felt that it would be unwise to risk more of Evermeet's soldiers and mages in a campaign in Faerun, not after the terrible losses in Nimesin's war and our expedition against the phaerimm, but Lord Miritar felt differently. He resigned from the council and called for volunteers to accompany him in a crusade against this new enemy."

"I had no idea!" Araevin said. "Where is he now?"

"Still in Elion, though I have heard they will march soon."

"In that case, Ilsevele and I must leave at once," Araevin said as he walked Quastarte to the door. "If you learn anything important, do not hesitate to perform a sending for me. I will return if I can. Sweet water and light laughter until we meet again, Quastarte!"

"And to you, my friend," the older elf replied.

He watched as Araevin hurried away.

CHAPTER 12

23 Ches, the Year of Lightning Storms

I was wondering where all the elves were," Maresa said. "Apparently, they're here."

The genasi reined in her horse on the broad track that wound past the gates of Seamist down to the city of Elion below.

Araevin, Grayth, and Ilsevele stared alongside her. Beneath the evergreens, on either side of the road, lay the encampments of elf warriors. Proud banners and standards stood by each one, identifying the contingent camped there. Hundreds of elves dressed in hauberks of chain mail or byrnies of ring-sewn leather filled the forest, all engaged in different tasks. Some mended arms and armor, some prepared food, and quite a few seemed to be engaged in striking their simple shelters and collecting their gear into manageable packs. In one meadow nearby a company of nearly two hundred archers practiced their marching and maneuvering.

"By the bow of Shevarash, will you look at that?" Ilsevele murmured.

The small company had left Tower Reilloch within an hour of Araevin's meeting with Quastarte, after Araevin and Ilsevele had gleaned most of the story of the council's debates and Seiveril's call to arms from the loremaster. Even though the evidence was right in front of Araevin's eyes, he still couldn't believe it.

"We leave for two tendays, and Evermeet decides to stand on its head," said Araevin. "What next, I wonder?"

After asking several orderlies and messengers hurrying past about Seiveril's whereabouts, they were directed to a broad hilltop glade a mile above the palace. Whole companies of elves-archers, knights, elite guards, and spearmen-waited in orderly ranks at the edge of the glade. In the center of the clearing stood a trio of weathered old stone markers. Six drummers beat an easy rhythm in the damp air as the companies formed themselves into three columns each and queued up, facing the stone markers. On the first stroke, three elves advanced to the markers, on the second, each of the three touched a stone; on the third stroke, they vanished in a golden sparkle; and on the fourth stroke the waiting columns advanced one step.