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The ape’s sleep grew more and more restless. He began to toss and turn and mutter. When Grypht finished studying his magic staff, the saurial turned his attention back to the creature he’d rescued. The ape began to shout in his sleep. Grypht couldn’t understand his language, but the creature seemed quite upset, so the saurial shook him gently.

Akabar came awake with a start, but he quickly realized he was too weak to sit up. His eyes darted about in confusion. The creature he’d freed from Kyre’s soul trap sat beside him. “Elminster?” he whispered.

Grypht shook his head. He understood the word “Elminster,” and that certainly wasn’t him. The lizard pointed to himself and said, “Grypht” in saurial, but of course the ape could not comprehend.

Grypht pulled out a lump of red clay from his pocket and began fashioning it into a series of five short cylinders, each with a smaller circumference than the previous one. He piled one on top of the other until he had formed the model of a ziggurat.

A clay ziggurat is the component of a tongues spell, Akabar realized. In his excitement, he found the energy to sit up. He fidgeted impatiently for Grypht to finish casting so that they could communicate.

The scent of fresh-mown hay filled the air about them, and the miniature tower balanced on the lizard’s palm glowed as if it were sitting in a kiln. Then the tower shattered into several pieces. Grypht turned his hand upside down, spilling the shards of baked clay into the grass. “I am Grypht,” he said in a deep, low voice.

“I am Akabar Bel Akash,” the Turmishman replied. “I presume you are not a creature of evil as Lady Kyre told us.”

Grypht shook his head. “I am a saurial.”

“A saurial!” Akabar said excitedly. “Like Dragonbait?”

Grypht chuckled. He couldn’t wait to find Champion and ask how he’d picked up such a bizarre nickname. “In our tribe, the one you call Dragonbait is known as Champion. He is the sworn protector of our people. I must locate him.”

Akabar nodded. “He’s here in Shadowdale.”

“Shadowdale?” Grypht asked.

“The town we’re in—” Akabar paused and looked around. “The town we were in. Where are we now?”

“I fled the tower with you after I destroyed Kyre.”

“Kyre,” Akabar whispered. “You killed her?” he said.

Despite his relief at having escaped the half-elf’s clutches, the Turmishman was unable to control the feeling of misery that swept over him upon learning she was dead.

“She was a minion of Moander,” Grypht said, disturbed by Akabar’s expression. “She would have drained your spirit and fed you to her master.”

“I know,” Akabar said, “but I loved her.”

Grypht shook his head. Love makes such fools of mages, he thought. “When I last scried Champion, you and he and a halfling traveled on the back of a red lair-beast—what you call a dragon, I believe—but I have been unable to locate Champion magically for over a year now. Are you certain Champion is in the town we left?”

Grypht waited for several moments for Akabar’s answer, but the only noise to fill the silence was a cricket in the brush. Finally the saurial poked the Turmish mage and growled, “Forget Kyre and answer my question.”

Akabar looked up with a start. Realizing it was imperative he communicate with Grypht while the tongues spell still functioned, he shook off his misery and answered the saurial mage. “You probably couldn’t find Dragonbait because he travels with Alias. She’s a warrior with a powerful misdirection spell cast on her, which protects her companions, too.”

“I could not detect you magically, either. Were you with them all this time?” Grypht asked.

“No,” Akabar said. “My wife is also enchanted with a charm of misdirection, but she’s back in Shadowdale. If you couldn’t locate Dragon—er, Champion, how did you know to come to Shadowdale?”

“I chose it because Olive was there. Since she had once been a companion of Champion’s, I hoped she could tell me where to find him,” Grypht explained.

“Olive? Olive Ruskettle is in Shadowdale?” Akabar asked in amazement.

“She was in the tower,” Grypht explained. “I teleported there, prepared to cast a tongues spell to explain my presence, but Kyre disrupted the spell and convinced others to attack me, so I fled. I managed to find Olive, but I was unable to speak with her. I talked with her friend—a bard, as tall as you are, very arrogant. He would not tell me where Champion was. He professed he needed proof that I was a friend of Champion’s, but I think he did not want me to find Champion at all. Kyre interrupted us and scooped me into her soul trap. I thought she must have killed Olive and the bard, but now I believe they escaped, for this stone points out the halfling’s location.” The saurial held out the yellow crystal.

“The finder’s stone!” Akabar said. “Dragonbait lost it in Westgate. How did you find it?”

“The bard had it. I found the stone in Kyre’s boot, so I assumed she had killed the bard and Olive. I was using the stone to search for Champion, but it could not discover him for me. By accident, I thought of Olive, her clever fingers and brash nerve, and the stone sent out a directional light immediately. I couldn’t believe my luck, or the halfling’s, either. She had escaped from Kyre, something I would not have managed without your help.”

“But how did the bard get the finder’s stone?” Akabar asked.

“He said he created it. He used its magic to speak with me,” Grypht explained.

Akabar’s brow furrowed. The bard had to be Nameless. It was possible that he did create the stone. He was known as the Crafter as well as the Nameless Bard. Then Akabar found himself wondering why Nameless had kept Dragonbait’s location from Grypht. Did he have some reason to distrust Grypht? Then it occurred to the Turmishman that he still hadn’t found out about Elminster. “What did you do to Elminster?” he demanded. “He disappeared before you left.”

“I transferred him to my tower and took his place,” the saurial explained. “It was the only way I could absolutely guarantee my safe magical arrival here.”

“Do you know the trouble you caused? Everyone thought he’d been kidnapped,” Akabar said.

“My apprentices were instructed to greet him and apologize for the inconvenience. He was free to leave at any time. He is a great wizard, with the power to travel between planes. I scried for Olive for some time, waiting for her to approach such a one so that I did not strand anyone in my world.”

“If Elminster was free to leave, why hasn’t he returned yet?” Akabar asked.

“He hasn’t?” Grypht asked in return.

Akabar shook his head.

“Oh, dear,” the saurial said softly.

“Oh, dear!” Akabar exclaimed. “Is that all you can say? You snatched Elminster from his home to another dimension just to guarantee you had a safe arrival and could find Dragonbait.”

“It is imperative that I find Champion. Our people’s very existence is imperiled. I must have his help if I am to save them.”

“Why? What’s wrong with your people?” Akabar asked suspiciously.

“The minions of Moander from the Abyss have come into our land and enslaved them all. Only my three apprentices and I remain uncaptured. The others have been marched forcibly through the plane of Tarterus and into this world. The Darkbringer is using them to recreate a body to use in the Realms.”