Daile stood beside her father's body, gazing at the two magical daggers she held in her hands. Right and Left.
"Use your father's weapons well, Daile," Miltiades said solemnly. "You are Daile o' the Blade now."
"No," she said softly, shaking her head. She looked up, her blue eyes cold as ice. "These daggers protected me beneath the red tower, but I could never wield them like my father. No one could. They are his, and no other's."
Daile knelt and slipped the two blades into their sheaths in Ren's boots. Then she stood straight, unslinging her ashwood bow from her shoulder. She drew a red-feathered arrow from the quiver on her back and pulled back against the bowstring, aiming for the sky. With a cry, she released the arrow. It sped high into the slate-blue dome above. The arrow traveled upward until Kern lost sight of it.
Suddenly the two daggers tucked into Ren's boots quivered. Each gave a small jerk as the knobs on the end of their hilts popped open. Two small, smooth stones rose out of the compartments concealed in the dagger hilts to whirl about Daile's head. The others stared in wonder.
Miltiades recognized the small stones. "They are Ren's ioun stones."
Daile nodded. She knew the story behind the stones. They had been stolen by a woman named Tempest, a thief. Tempest had been Ren's first love, but she was murdered by the Lord of the Ruins, the dragon who had sought to control the pool of radiance in the ruins thirty years earlier.
The two ioun stones settled onto Daile's bow and embedded themselves in the wood with a faint click. The longbow hummed brightly in the ranger's grip, then was quiescent once again. Daile nodded in understanding. The magical stones were her father's last gift to her.
She lowered her bow, her shoulders stiff and square. "From now on, I am Daile Redfletching," she said grimly.
The others nodded dumbly, alarmed at the ferocity in the young ranger's voice and the coldness in her eyes. Without a word, Daile turned to make her way back to the campfire.
The companions ate a cheerless breakfast of dried fruit and flatbread by the scant warmth of the fire. Miltiades, who had no use for food, instead drew a small brooch from a leather purse. The brooch was wrought of gold and set with a single clear gemstone.
"Evaine gave it to me," he explained to the others, "so that we might communicate with each other. I think she would care to know that you have gained the hammer, Kern. As well as the sorrowful news about Ren."
The skeletal paladin whispered the word of magic Evaine had taught him that activated the brooch. The crystal flashed, and an image appeared within its facets. The image showed a snowy, wind-scoured crag rising high above a range of jagged peaks. There was no sign of Evaine anywhere.
"Where is she?" Kern asked with a frown.
Miltiades shook his head. "I do not know. If she still possessed the brooch, she would know I am calling her."
"She must have lost it," Listle said worriedly. "But where? Unless mountains have a habit of growing overnight, I don't think that's the forest around her dwelling."
"Those are the Dragonspine Mountains," Daile said, peering into the gem. "I recognize them from the map that Evaine created with my father's help."
Miltiades uttered another magical word. The gem went dark. "This can only mean one thing. Evaine has journeyed into the mountains."
"But why?" Kern asked.
Listle's eyes widened in realization. "Don't you see? She intends to destroy the pool of twilight! Ridding Faerun of the pools is her life's quest." The elf swore sharply. "We should have known she would try something like this."
"Well, maybe Evaine knows what she's doing," Kern offered. "After all, I don't think there's anyone who knows more about pools within a thousand leagues of here."
"That is true, Kern," Miltiades replied. "But no matter how wise Evaine may be, she cannot realize that Sirana is drawing power from the pool. I doubt she expects to face another sorceress, let alone a half-fiend mage who is in league with the magic of the twilight pool." The skeletal knight's breastplate shuddered. Kern would almost have thought it a sigh if Miltiades had been in the habit of breathing.
"Then we have to go after her, to warn her!" Kern stood.
Miltiades raised a gauntlet, halting him. "You forget, Kern. The Dragonspine Mountains are nearly a tenday's ride from this place. With her scrying spells, Evaine will certainly discover the pool before we reach her, no matter how hard we ride. Indeed, she may have already located it."
Kern hung his head in despair. "We have to warn her somehow," he said without much confidence.
"I think I might be able to arrange something," Listle said, hurrying over to her leather backpack. "I found these yesterday while I was wandering around the maze in the ruins. Something told me they might come in handy."
She pulled two cylindrical objects from her pack. With a flick of her wrist, she unrolled one of them. It was a bright, intricately patterned carpet.
Kern eyed the carpet skeptically. "Maybe I'm missing something here, but I fail to see how a rug is going to solve our problems."
Listle snorted with annoyance. "Sometimes you have absolutely no imagination, Kern." She snapped her fingers, and abruptly the carpet rose several feet off the ground, its golden fringe fluttering. "These are flying carpets!" Listle hopped onto the hovering carpet while the others watched in amazement. The elf positively beamed. "What in the world would you do without my help?"
"I shudder to think," Miltiades said, a note in his dry voice that might almost have been amusement.
Their decision was made easy for them. While Kern wanted nothing more than to hurry back to Shal and Tarl, he knew they must go to warn Evaine.
"I suppose this means we'll have to leave you behind," Listle said sadly, stroking the muzzle of her gray pony.
"I don't think you need bid your steed farewell, Listle," Miltiades said.
"I wish you were right, Miltiades," Listle answered glumly. "But somehow I doubt the horses will fit on the magic carpets."
"We'll see," Miltiades replied mysteriously.
The undead paladin whispered something into the ear of his magical white stallion, Eritophenes, who then pranced toward Listle's pony. Eritophenes bent his head over the dappled gray and snorted. A pale mist encircled the pony, and suddenly the horse shimmered, shrinking in size until it became a tiny gray figurine standing in the snow. Eritophenes moved to the other horses, and in moments they, too, had been transformed by the stallion's magical breath into miniatures. Eritophenes let out a whinny, then also glowed brightly, shrinking into a small, prancing figure.
Miltiades gathered the miniature horses and placed them safely in a pouch. Kern could only shake his head in wonder. That was another problem solved.
"Now if I could only do that with Kern when he's acting uncooperative," Listle mused.
"You know, Listle, you're really not as funny as you think you are," Kern grumped.
She gave him a flat stare. "What makes you think I'm joking?"
Quickly they broke camp and packed their things onto the carpets. But when it was time to go, Daile hesitated.
"I'm sorry, Kern," she said quietly. "But I can't go with you. At least not yet. I… I have to take my father back to the Valley of the Falls. I know he would want to lie by my mother's side."
Kern nodded gravely, gripping her shoulder tightly. He hated to part company with the ranger.
"Take one of the carpets, Daile," Listle offered. "We three can all fit on one." She shot Kern a wry look. "If this big oaf doesn't hog all the space, that is."