She laughed when she realized that the Nightseer would soon know that the Lady of Loss kept secrets even from him.
Cale materialized in darkness on the lowered drawbridge that led into the temple of Mask on the Wayrock. Faerun's stars shone in the sky above him. The night clung to him. The smell of clean sea air filled his nostrils and he inhaled deeply. The soft rush of the distant surf sounded in his ears.
Riven's two small dogs tore out of the archway and charged Cale, tails wagging. Cale kneeled and patted their flanks, pleased to see them. They licked his hands, put their forepaws on his arm and tried to lick his face. The shadows that coiled about him seemed not to trouble them.
He stood and looked to his right, to the hill where he and Riven had buried Jak. He nodded at the little man's grave. He thought Jak would have been pleased with Cale's resurrection of the dragon.
"Come on, girls," he said to the dogs. "Inside."
The dogs sped ahead of him and he followed them into the temple of his god. He smiled when he thought that Mask had been able to fill his temple with only two men and two dogs.
He found Riven, Nayan, and Magadon awaiting him in the foyer. Riven's dogs circled their master. Riven patted them absently.
"What is it?" Cale asked.
"All went well with the dragon?" Riven asked.
"As well as it could," Cale said.
"You should have left him dead," Magadon said.
"You don't mean that, Mags. The dragon was not a willing vessel."
Magadon stared at him. "I mean it. You just don't like that I mean it."
Cale felt a flash of anger but stifled it. He remembered Magadon's mindblade, its yellow light polluted by black streaks. Magadon, too, was not a willing vessel.
Nayan disrupted the awkwardness. He said, "A priest in service to Abelar Corrinthal has been seeking you. He contacted me through a sending. I have ignored it until now."
"Abelar Corrinthal?" Cale asked, surprised.
Nayan nodded. "We returned Endren to him. He knew of me in that way. He purported to be your ally."
Cale would not have called Abelar an ally, though he had reached an understanding with the man.
"Who is Endren?" Magadon asked. "What does he have to do with matters?"
"Endren is a Sembian nobleman," Cale said. "Abelar is his son and a servant of Lathander. They're enemies of the overmistress."
Magadon's face showed no recognition, or perhaps it was apathy.
"Sembia is at war, Mags," Cale explained. "Or at least it was. I met Abelar on the road out of Selgaunt. He and his men stopped an attack on the Hulorn. They probably saved my life, too. I owe him."
"You owe me," Magadon said.
Cale held his calm with difficulty. "I know."
"What does Abelar want with you?" Riven asked.
Cale looked to Nayan and the shadowwalker shook his head. "The sending asked only for you to attend him," Nayan said.
"Perhaps he needs assistance with the war?" Cale said.
"That is not our fight," Magadon said.
"Maybe the Uskevren boy is in trouble," Riven said. "Rivalen Tanthul had him under his sway."
Magadon looked to Riven. "Rivalen Tanthul?"
Riven's eye narrowed. "Your fight now, eh?"
"I asked you a question," Magadon said, and advanced on Riven.
Riven's mouth hardened. "Take a step back, Mags. Do it now, and get your mouth under control."
"I want Rivalen Tanthul dead for what he did to me."
"That's both of us, then," Riven answered. "Step back."
Magadon did and turned to Cale. "Take me to Rivalen, Cale."
"No."
Cale's word brought Magadon up short. "No? I owe him."
Cale nodded. "As do I. As does Riven. But Rivalen Tanthul is no more our fight than is Sembia's civil war. Not now, at least."
Magadon's brow furrowed, his colorless eyes narrowed.
"We have other concerns," Cale said soothingly. "You need some time, Mags. You've been through a lot. We all have."
"Time is the last thing I need," Magadon said softly, and looked away. "Or have."
"Nayan, get him some food and a place to rest," Cale said. "He's had it harder than Riven and I."
The easterner nodded and beckoned Magadon into the temple. Magadon sighed, nodded, and followed Nayan.
"Mags," Cale called after.
The mindmage turned. He looked ten years older than he had when Cale had first met him. "Kesson Rel is the priority, Mags. Trust me."
Magadon nodded. "I do. I am sorry about my… tone."
"You're not yourself."
"No," Magadon said. "I am not."
He turned and Nayan led him off. Cale and Riven shared a look. "He's fading," Riven said.
Cale nodded.
"But you are going to answer this Abelar Corrinthal's call anyway."
Cale nodded again. "I'm indebted to him. And I've got enough debts outstanding. Time to start closing them out."
"I will come with you."
Cale shook his head. "This is my problem. You stay with Mags. I'll return quickly and we'll hunt Kesson Rel."
"He may be hunting us, Cale. You think of that? You think that duplicate was there by chance? He arranged it all."
Cale nodded. Riven was right.
"If he comes for us, he needs to find you and me together. Mags is safe in the temple. Not even Kesson Rel can scry here. No one can. Nayan can watch over him. I am with you," Riven said.
"Riven…"
The assassin cut him off. "I've got debts to pay, too, Cale. I am with you."
Cale stared into Riven's one good eye. "Well enough. I will find Abelar with a divination and we go."
"Now?"
"Now."
Cale's spell located Abelar quickly. The servant of Lathander had taken no steps to ward himself. He resided in an encampment along the shore of a small lake. Fires burned here and there in the camp. Hollow-eyed men, women, and children gathered around the fires, hovered near the tents.
Refugees, Cale figured, as he drew the shadows to himself and transported there with Riven.
They materialized before a group of seven armed men seated near a fire. The men leaped to their feet and exclaimed in surprise, but none drew blades.
Cale held up his hands, still leaking shadows. "We are friends and are here to see Abelar Corrinthal."
"He has answered," one of the men said.
A man as tall as Cale stepped forward. He wore a holy symbol on a chain around his throat-Lathander's sun. His long brown hair hung loose to his shoulders.
"I am Roen. You can only be Erevis Cale. Well met. My sending found you. Thank you for coming."
Old men, women, and children, perhaps attracted by the commotion of Cale's sudden appearance, hovered at the edge of the firelight. They eyed Cale and Riven warily. They looked dirty, underfed, fearful.
"All is well here," Roen called to them. "These men are allies."
The refugees nodded, some of the children even smiled.
"I will take you to Abelar," Roen said, and led them to a nearby canvas tent. "Abelar, the sending is answered."
Cale heard motion within and the tent flap flew open. Abelar Corrinthal stepped out and Cale scarcely recognized him. Dark circles stained the skin under his eyes. Lines of worry creased his brow. His red-rimmed eyes pronounced how little he had slept.
"Thank you for coming, Erevis," Abelar said. He eyed Riven appraisingly and without judgment.
"Why did you send for me?" Cale asked.
Despite his forlorn appearance, Abelar held Cale's eyes with the same calm intensity he had when first they'd met. "My father told me that you got him out of the Hole, that you can walk the shadows like roads. Is that so?"
Cale nodded and the shadows around him swirled. "Yes. That is so."