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Briartan gave a weak chuckle. “Ususi, I knew I’d see you before the end. Too bad you couldn’t have arrived earlier. What does anyone want with the Mucklestones? Control. The kind of control one might gain if he had quick access to all corners of Faerun.” Briartan ended with a cough.

“How did Gameliel overcomeyou?” repeated Ususi.

“Why, he surprised me. He sent the sickened pine folk to me. I thought they were seeking a cure. I labored for days on reversing the rot which afflicted them, before I realized the truth; they would never be cured. What I didn’t realize was that their sickness was aimed like an arrow at me and my hospitality. By letting them breach the circle, I also allowed in Gameliel. He overcame me and wrested from me control over the Keystone.”

Ususi started, then rose from her haunches. She moved toward where Gameliel had last stood.

“Briartan?” Elowen breathed. “Are you in too much pain?”

The druid turned his head so that his gaze could rest more easily on the hunter. “Ah, Elowen, don’t be sad. I am so glad that you are here, that you are here to see me off. Please, explain my fate to the Nentyarch who sits-in-exile in Yeshelmaar. The Nentyarch must know what has happened here:”

“Yeshelmaar?” she blurted.

“You’ve been away from the fold for quite some time, then, Elowen?” ventured Briartan. He continued, “Yes, seek both the Council of Lethyr and the Nentyarch in Yeshelmaar. Bring him the Keystone.”

Marrec wanted to ask his own questions, but Elowen needed a moment with her friend. He glanced up to see what Ususi was doing. The mage was crouched, studying the scattered debris of the blightlord’s possessions.

Elowen, trying to keep the druid engaged, said, “I’d hoped that the Nentyarch was still in the Rawlinswood. If he’s taken a seat in Yeshelmaar, it must mean the Rotting Man was too strong for even the Nentyarch. When I left on my mission, Yeshelmaar was being prepared as a possible seat-in-exile. I hoped it would not come to pass.” She bit her lip then asked, “Briartan, was Gameliel acting as an emissary of the Rotting Man?”

“You know he was, and he is but the least of the blightlords who give their allegiance to the Talontyr. Anammelech’s unnatural tread causes the forest to shiver, and Damanda is nearly a power in her own right, yet she has the ear of the Rotting Man.” The conversation was fast sapping the druid’s last reserves of strength. Briartan’s eyes began to stray upward, attempting to focus on vistas invisible to the living.

“Briartan,” Marrec jumped in, realizing the druid was close to departing, “I have traveled far seeking answers. The goddess Lurue, who you may know, is losing contact with many of her servants, me included. My quest is to renew that connection. My quest has led me first to this strange child, who we call Ash, and also the Child of Light, and now to you. It seems that, for reasons I don’t understand the Rotting Man wants the girl. More than that, I need to know who this girl is, and why she is important to Lurue. Do you have any answers for me, great druid?”

Briartan considered Marrec’s speech a moment before responding. Then he said, “I know of Lurue, the Unicorn Queen. She may have quieted her connection to you, but if she has, it is most assuredly for a good reason. It is strange, thoughI do not sense that all connections of the Unicorn Queen and the world have weakened as yours has. You must seek the Nentyarch for your answershe has time I lack.” Briartan paused, straining to gather more breath. His color, briefly renewed by Marrec’s craft, was failing once more.

Ash wandered up of her own accord and fixed the dying druid with her guileless stare.

Seeing her, Briartan’s eyes widened. “This is the child?”

Marrec nodded.

Briartan made a reverent sign with a shaking hand. He said, “Yes, she is special; I can see that with even my failing eyes. Keep her safe, unicorn warrior. One day, this Child of Light will answer to the Rotting Man’s depredations.” He broke into a fit of coughing. The druid’s time was drawing to a close.

Briartan’s cough subsided. He fixed his gaze straight up. At last he whispered, “The cycle of life may not be denied. Death gives way to life, and life…”

The druid’s gaze remained fixed even as his breath whispered away, rising in to penetrate the boughs and branches that hid the clearing from the sky above. Never more would the wisdom of the druid of Lethyr grace the forests.

Marrec closed Briartan’s eyes. A tear traced a path from Elowen’s full eyes down her cheek. She spoke then in the language of the elves.

Though Marrec knew only a few fragments of the sylvan tongue, it seemed that Elowen was asking for blessings and aid to Briartan’s spirit from a series of elven deities and great spirits of the forest.

When she finished, Elowen stood. She said simply, “He will be missed,” then walked to the edge of the clearing, seeking solace in the unContaminated growth beyond the stone circle.

Later, they laid Briartan to rest according to the rites of elves and druids. When finished with that solemn duty, the five rested in the bowl of the Mucklestones. Already the rot and crusted growths that had overtaken the stone circle were receding. The power of the stones was greater than that of the Rotting Man, at least without one of his blightlord emissaries present.

Gunggari had offered condolences to Elowen earlier, but the wisdom of Osse was apparently too gruff for the elven palate. Elowen continued to sit, facing away from the rest of the group, staring into the trees.

Ususi spoke up, after a long silence. “Briartan was my friend, too, in his own way. He allowed me my researches. I will continue in your company, if you’ll have me.” She looked up, meeting Marrec’s eye.

Marrec raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d go back to Two Stars. The Mucklestones are clear.”

“If I’m not welcome, then Two Stars is where I’ll go, of course,” responded Ususi.

“Don’t misunderstand me; there is nothing I’d like better than your aid,” said Marrec, trying to keep his voice from sounding testy. “I’ve rarely seen your skill with wizardry equaled. Plus, we enjoy your company.”

Out of sight of Ususi, the Oslander cocked his head. Marrec read it as a sign of amusement.

“Good!” exclaimed Ususi, smiling, which was an event in and of itself. “Then I have good news. I can get us to Yeshelmaar quickly over the course of a single march.”

Elowen finally broke her silence, saying “Via the Mucklestones?”

Ususi nodded, “I can reroute one of the main portal lines from here to there. With the Keystone, once in the keeping of Briartan, I can do it with little effort.” The woman produced a polished, amber colored stone with a natural looking hole piercing its center. The stone was strung on a leather thong. As Ususi handled it, the stone brightened, giving off a glow all its own.

Elowen gave Ususi an appraising look.

Ususi said, “I know, Elowen. I know. The Keystone shall go back to the keeping of the Nentyarch, but we shall reach the Nentyarch all the sooner if I use it, even without his blessing.”

“So be it,” said the elf.

Gunggari spoke up, “Shall we leave immediately?”

“It will take more than a few minutes to set up our route. I must make preparations using the Keystone. The dimensional referents must be navigated then posted.”

Marrec lifted an eyebrow and put on exaggerated expression of confusion. For his trouble, he received a flicker of amusement from the mage. She realized, just perhaps, that her language might be perceived as slightly humorous to those who had not the slightest idea of what it meant. Progress, Marrec hoped.

Ususi rose and approached the perimeter of the circle. She moved to stand between the gap in two stones that faced generally west. She grasped the Keystone, which then glowed with light as strong as a torch but steadier. Ususi held it in the palm of her left hand. She closed her eyes, standing quietly. After a few minutes of studying the mage’s preparations, Marrec realized there probably wouldn’t be any other signs of Ususi’s mystical navigation, or was she ‘posting,’ whatever that meant?