“No,” Xaran said. “I had in mind a new spell, one that will make your body immortal.”
“I see,” Finder said. “And what do you ask in return?”
“I am interested in your advanced knowledge of simulacrums.”
“So is every evil tyrant in the Realms,” Finder retorted. “But I’m the evil tyrant who holds your life in his hands, so to speak.”
“True enough. Is that all you want?”
“No. There is one other little thing. You must bring me Akabar Bel Akash. I believe you are acquainted with the gentleman.”
“Akabar?” Finder asked with surprise, echoing Olive’s own thoughts. “What do you want with him?”
“He has in his possession something I desire. You must convince him to visit you here.”
“I haven’t seen Akabar in over a year,” Finder argued. “He returned to Turmish.”
“He is near Shadowdale now,” Xaran corrected him.
“I see,” Finder said.
“Well, nameless one?” Xaran prompted.
Olive stood poised at the door, holding a fistful of the magical light stones in one hand and Finder’s dagger in the other. This might be my last chance for a surprise attack, she thought.
She reached up and traced the treble clef carved in the doorframe. The door swung open a foot, and with a banshee shriek, the halfling burst out of the workshop and hurled the light stones down the hallway. The orcs screamed in terror at the brilliant light and covered their eyes with their arms. While they were temporarily blinded, Olive lunged out with Finder’s dagger to the right, where she’d heard Xaran’s voice coming from, but there was no one there. Olive whirled about and pushed Finder through the workshop doorway.
As she turned around again to close the door, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, and blood began oozing into the fabric of her tunic. Olive’s eyes widened at the sight of what had just attacked her. There, five feet above the ground, just outside the door, floated Xaran—a hideous ball of flesh with a monstrous maw of fangs, one great central bloodshot eye, and a crown of ten eye stalks waving like serpents. Xaran was a beholder!
The halfling realized with a jolt that when she had tried to attack Xaran with the dagger, she’d lunged just beneath it, ironically in the only place it could not harm her with any of its magical eye rays. When she’d pulled back into the supposed safety of the workshop, she’d stepped into its line of vision, and it had hit her with a look from an eye that caused magical wounds.
Olive slammed the door shut before the monster could turn an even deadlier eye in her direction.
“What are you doing?” Finder shouted, squinting in the brightly lit room.
“What am I doing?” Olive squeaked with astonishment. “I’m saving your life! In case you hadn’t noticed, there was a beholder out there!”
“I was in the middle of negotiating a deal with it,” Finder said angrily.
“Are you nuts? Beholders are incredibly evil!” Olive shrieked.
“So? They are also honorable … in their own fashion.”
“They’re also vicious,” Olive argued. “As soon as you refused to bring Akabar to it, it would have killed you.”
“What makes you think I was going to refuse?” Finder asked.
Olive stared up at the bard in horror, but Finder just glared back at her, offering no further explanation.
She thought she’d shut all the monsters out of the workshop. Now she wasn’t certain.
10
The Hunt
Alias watched with relief as Breck Orcsbane urged his horse down the left-hand fork of the trail they followed in order to scout ahead. The ranger was in a foul mood, and a respite from his company was more than welcome. He scowled constantly at the ground and hardly spoke to her at all, except to complain about Dragonbait. Alias could understand how Breck felt, but silent, uncritical sympathy did not come easily to her. They’d been on the road for three hours now, and at first the ranger’s prediction that it would be easy to track Grypht had proven true. They’d begun their search atop Oakwood Knoll and had no trouble finding the creature’s path leading down from the knoll. Grypht was large and heavy; his feet sank deep into the wet soil, and his great tail knocked down large swaths of vegetation like a scythe.
Grypht, however, was not a beast, but a creature with intelligence and cunning. He knew enough to travel paths that were rocky whenever possible, where he would leave no prints, or to cut through areas heavily strewn with fallen leaves, where he could use his tail to brush the leaves around to cover his passage. Following Grypht proved to be a challenge to the Harper ranger, despite his keen eye and years of tracking experience. He had put himself under so much pressure to avenge Kyre that Alias didn’t like to think what would happen if they lost Grypht’s trail.
The ranger would have been happier, Alias realized, tracking alone. Then he could grieve for the half-elf in private. They couldn’t risk having him find Akabar and Grypht without the presence of others, though. In the state Breck was in, he’d end up attacking Grypht or Akabar or both and end up dead himself. Since Mourngrym had forced Breck to travel with two relative strangers, the ranger repressed his grief behind a wall of hostility.
As for Breck’s complaints about Dragonbait, though, Alias was on the verge of agreeing with the ranger’s desire to leave the saurial behind. She’d begun the hunt arguing with Breck in Dragonbait’s defense. The ranger didn’t want to travel with Dragonbait unless he was mounted, as they were. Breck kept insisting that the creature would slow them down, but Alias had explained that Dragonbait could keep up with a trotting horse for hours. Since then, the saurial paladin had proceeded to make a liar out of her so often that even she was growing annoyed with him. He fell behind again and again for no apparent reason, as if he had no interest in their hunt. Once when the swordswoman had turned around to urge him to keep up, Alias had found him gathering nuts. Several times he seemed to know the path Grypht was taking but would not reveal it until Breck had discovered it for himself.
Alias had first noticed the saurial sniffing the air when they were on Oakwood Knoll. When the party had reached the first stony path, he’d sniffed the air again. Once Breck had disappeared down the path to check the trail to the north, the saurial had taken a few steps down the path to the south and sat down with a sigh. He did the same thing at a second fork, and again at a creek bed. He’d waited a quarter of an hour while Breck rode around searching for the trail beneath a thick carpet of leaves, until it seemed as if the ranger might explode. Then the paladin had casually plodded through the leaves in a direction which Breck, following behind, later found to be correct.
Finally guessing that the saurial’s sense of smell might be as sharp as any hunting hound’s, Breck had asked Alias to ask Dragonbait to lead the way, but at the next choice of intersections, Dragonbait scratched his head and acted confused. Breck, completely frustrated with the paladin, had resumed the lead.
Alias, familiar with her companion’s phony “dumb animal” routine, had glared at the saurial and whispered, “What is wrong with you? Why won’t you help him?”
The ranger is beyond my help, Dragonbait had signed.
Alias had ridden off after the ranger in a huff. She didn’t know what had gotten into the paladin, but she knew they couldn’t afford to alienate Breck completely. Aside from worrying about keeping the ranger from starting a battle with Akabar and Grypht, in the back of Alias’s mind was the realization that if they ever did locate Nameless, Breck was one of the bard’s judges.
Now, as Breck disappeared down the fork in the road, Alias dismounted to stretch her legs. Dragonbait was nowhere to be seen. The swordswoman walked back down the path to see what he was up to. She spotted him tying a strip of blue cloth to a tree branch just above his head. She crept up behind him until she was a mere three feet away.