Mourngrym was hacking at the ice wall with a great axe. He had managed to chip away several inches, but it had taken its toll on him. His face and ears were flushed from the cold, his hands were red and raw, and the tips of his fingers were white from frostbite. He looked exhausted. As Alias watched, the axe slipped from his grasp and clanged to the floor.
“Mourngrym!” Alias cried, taking hold of his shoulders and pulling him away from the wall. “You’ve got to stop before you lose your hands.”
Mourngrym looked back at the swordswoman with grim determination. “I can’t, Alias. Nameless and Harper Kyre are trapped behind there with an evil monster,” he said.
“I know,” Alias said, trying to keep her voice calmer than she felt. “I’ve brought Akabar. He’ll dispel the wall.”
Just then Akabar and Thurbal turned the corner of the corridor. Akabar’s eyes widened at the sight of the wall of ice, and he swallowed uncertainly. The wall was obviously very thick, indicating that it had been cast by a spell-caster far more powerful than he. Without much hope, he began a chant to dispel the magic ice.
Mourngrym, Alias, and the two guards moved away from the wall as the mage raised his clasped hands over his head. Akabar finished his disenchantment spell by unlacing his fingers with a flourish. Sun-yellow motes of light sparkled toward the wall and scattered across the ice.
The specks of light faded, but the wall of ice remained. Akabar lowered his arms and looked troubled. “I’ll have to try to melt the wall with a fireball,” the mage said. “It’s quite dangerous. The explosion will release very hot steam. You must all take cover.”
“What about you?” Alias asked.
“I cannot cast the magic from behind a wall,” Akabar said.
Back in Finder’s cell, Olive began to fidget with the straps of her pack as the bard’s expression grew more serious. Finder shook his head at something Grypht was “telling” him.
Olive’s sharp ears caught the sound of someone out in the hallway picking at the door lock. “Someone’s coming!” she whispered anxiously.
Grypht spun about and growled. Finder tossed Olive the finder’s stone. “Take this and your cloak and knapsack and stay out of sight,” he ordered the halfling. “Now!”
Olive picked up her gear and slipped behind the velvet drapes. Hastily she poked a tiny peephole in the fabric with her dagger.
As the door swung open, Finder took a position at Grypht’s side, prepared to reprimand the guards for attacking the creature without provocation.
He was not prepared, however, for Kyre. The lovely half-elf stood in the doorway holding out a rather large but innocuous-looking walnut.
“I’m afraid we haven’t had the pleasure of being introduced,” the bard said, turning on his most charming smile. Kyre’s face contorted in disgust, and she turned her gaze impatiently on the giant lizard. Grypht hissed and raised his staff.
“Darkbringer!” Kyre shouted. The round nut in her hand began to radiate a sphere of darkness, which within the span of five heartbeats, grew as large as a pumpkin, concealing Kyre’s hand and forearm in an inky black ball.
Finder stepped protectively in front of the large saurial. “No,” he said calmly. “There’s been a misunderstanding here. He’s a foe of the Darkbringer, not an agent.”
Kyre ignored Finder. “Grypht,” she said flatly. The sphere of darkness about her hand began to shimmer like hot tar, then reached out a vinelike tendril of glassy black that shot over Finder’s head. The end of the tendril struck Grypht in the face. The saurial stood motionless, paralyzed by the magic, as the dark sphere around the nut oozed along the tendril toward its prey. When it reached Grypht, the darkness poured down him like oil, covering every inch of his body until the great lizard was nothing but a black silhouette. Then the darkness constricted and shrank about Grypht until he was squeezed into a tiny black, marble-sized sphere.
From behind the curtain, Olive watched in horror as the dark tendril contracted back into the walnut, taking Grypht along with it. Then the darkness about the nut dissipated, leaving the walnut as clear as glass.
“That wasn’t necessary,” Finder insisted angrily. “I told you he meant no harm.”
Kyre pocketed the walnut and then turned her attention to the prisoner. “Master Nameless, I’m so pleased to meet you at last,” she said, smiling at Finder.
Behind the curtain, Olive shuddered. The halfling couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was definitely something creepy about the way the half-elf smiled.
4
The Half-Elf
Kyre took another step into Nameless’s prison. “I’ve been so eager to meet you,” the half-elf said to Finder.
“That’s some sort of soul-trapping gem you used on the saurial, isn’t it?” Finder asked, ignoring Kyre’s pleasantries. “I demand you release him at once.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, he’s a very dangerous creature,” the half-elf replied. “But useful—not unlike yourself.” Kyre reached her hand into her pocket and pulled it out again. She held a second walnut. “Darkbringer,” she said. Once again a sphere of darkness emanated from the nut, just as it had before. “The Nameless Bard,” Kyre pronounced slowly.
The sphere shimmered, and a tendril of black began to rise from it. Suddenly the tendril collapsed in on itself, and the darkness dissipated. Having failed to suck up the bard’s essence, the magical nut shattered, and shards of its shell flew in all directions. The half-elf didn’t even flinch. Instead, she stared up at the Nameless Bard with interest, waiting for him to explain.
Finder sneered. “I am Nameless no longer, but you, woman, whoever you are, will answer to the Harpers for this attack!”
Kyre laughed confidently. “I think not. You see, I am the Harper Kyre, and Nameless or not, you, bard, are in no position to threaten me.”
“Elminster would never approve of the cowardly way you’ve treated that saurial,” Finder retorted hotly. “Have the Harpers degenerated so far in the past two centuries that they attack innocent creatures and helpless prisoners?”
As Finder spoke, Olive could see Kyre slip a wand out of her tunic sleeve. The halfling couldn’t contain her anxiety a moment longer. She burst out from behind the curtain, shouting, “Finder! Look out!” and hurled herself at Finder’s legs, knocking him to one side.
A beam of green light shot out from the tip of Kyre’s wand, missing Finder by inches. The light struck the silver fruit bowl on the table behind him, enveloping it and the fruit in a sparkling green mist. After several seconds, the beam of light went out and the mist dissipated. The silver bowl was unharmed, but the plums, pears, and apples within had turned completely brown from rot and their skins had collapsed on the decayed flesh within.
Finder’s face registered fear now that he was finally aware of the danger he was in. He stared wide-eyed at Kyre.
Olive took quick aim and hurled her dagger at the half-elf. The weapon hit Kyre’s wrist, causing her to drop the deadly wand. Kyre’s eyes flashed angrily, but she made no sound or movement to indicate the weapon had hurt her hand.
Olive shuddered at the woman’s indifference to pain. “Would you get us out of here now?” the halfling shouted, shoving the finder’s stone at the master bard.
Finder grabbed the stone with one hand and Olive’s shoulder with the other, then sang an E-flat. Olive sighed happily as a yellow light began glowing around her body.
The halfling’s relief was short-lived. Though the light continued to glow, she and Finder didn’t vanish from the cell as expected. Olive felt as if something was pulling her in two, and she screamed in pain.