“I know,” Zhara whispered. “But if Akabar does not destroy Moander, then Moander will destroy him.”
“What do you mean?” Alias snapped.
“Moander wants revenge on Akabar. Tymora warned me that the Darkbringer’s minions are searching everywhere for my husband. Our family decided that Akabar should flee to the north. My co-wives sent me with him so he couldn’t be scried upon. I possess the same misdirection shield as you do,” Zhara explained.
“Then you’re safe. There’s no need to go looking for Moander,” Alias argued.
“We cannot stay in hiding all our lives,” Zhara retorted. In a softer voice, she added, “I know that you have good reason to be afraid of Moander, but you cannot run from your fears.”
“Can’t I? You just watch me,” Alias said. “As soon as we find Grypht, and I get the finder’s stone, I’m leaving. I was stupid enough to get drawn in by Moander’s siren call once, but I’m not going to let it capture me again. I’m going to go find Nameless and stay with him as far away from Moander as I can get.”
“Akabar needs your help. Don’t you care about him anymore?”
“Why should I?” Alias growled. “He obviously doesn’t care about me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He cares about you very much,” Zhara persisted.
“If Akabar cared about me, he wouldn’t have married you, would he?” Alias snapped.
“He asked you to come to Turmish with him, and you turned him down. What did you expect him to do, follow you around the Realms? Please don’t abandon him when he needs your help just because you’re jealous of me.”
Alias stepped up to Zhara and waved her forefinger in the priestess’s face. “For your information, this has absolutely nothing to do with being jealous of you. You’re just a copy of me—one of Phalse’s second-rate copies. Akabar told me he was my friend, that he thought of me as a human, and then he turned around and married you, as if my body was a thing he could have for the right price.” Alias’s voice cracked with anger and pain.
“I am not a thing,” Zhara snapped. “I am nothing like you. I am a person, too—”
“Did you know,” Alias interrupted, “that when we found you in the Citadel of Exile and Akabar saw how upset I was, he offered to destroy you for me?”
“Yes,” Zhara replied quietly, nodding her head. “He told me all about it.”
“And you married him anyway? Are you crazy?” Alias cried. “Of course you are,” she said bitterly. “After all, Phalse made you.”
“Of all our sisters that I have met, you are the only one to treat me this way. The others were pleased to have a family.”
“Sisters! You mean the other eleven monsters are walking around?”
Zhara gritted her teeth to hold back her anger. She took a deep breath and spoke in measured, even tones. “I have met three others. One is a sage in Candlekeep, one a mage in Immersea, one a warrior like yourself from the eastern lands. I know of two others. One was a thief who was murdered this past spring. The other is a lady of some power in Waterdeep.”
“Did Akabar marry any of these others, too?” Alias asked. “I’m surprised a shrewd merchant like him didn’t think of it when we discovered you in the Citadel of Exile. He could have picked you up cheaper by the dozen and sold you off for a profit.”
Zhara’s face went livid with rage. “You witch! How dare you!” she cried and backhanded Alias solidly across the face.
The swordswoman stumbled back several feet. Then she leaped forward onto Zhara. “Let’s finish what we started yesterday, shall we?” she growled as they both fell to the ground.
Zhara fought back with fury, but she had no weapons or armor to protect her now. She stubbed her toes kicking at the swordswoman and bruised her knuckles on Alias’s skull.
Alias punched at Zhara’s stomach, and Zhara curled up, whimpering like a dog. “Had enough?” Alias snarled, sitting up over the priestess.
Zhara slammed her elbow into Alias’s kidney. Alias raised her fist over the priestess’s head, but something overhead grabbed her wrist and lifted her off the ground by her arm. She twisted her neck around to see what was holding her.
A beast over ten feet tall, covered in scales and armor plates of bone, dangled the swordswoman in front of his face, studying her with some interest. In his other hand, he held out a lump of clay fashioned into a miniature four-story tower.
Alias looked around for Dragonbait. The saurial paladin stood at the edge of the forest, looking down at the ground. Akabar stood beside him with an astonished look on his face.
“Are you through beating my wife?” Akabar asked the swordswoman angrily.
“She started it,” Alias growled. “You must be Grypht,” she said to the creature holding her. “Put me down.”
Akabar stepped into the clearing and helped Zhara to her feet.
“How could you do such a thing?” the Turmish mage asked his wife. “Have you forgotten the promise you made after you broke Kasim’s arm? You swore you would not hit another woman,” he said angrily.
Zhara spat in Alias’s direction. “That witch makes Kasim seem like an angel. Alias is no different from her mother, Cassana. I do not care one bit if I hurt her.”
Akabar looked up at Alias. “What is going on here?” he asked, motioning for Grypht to set the swordswoman down.
Grypht lowered Alias until her feet touched the ground. The saurial wizard did not, however, release her wrist. The scent of fresh-mown hay rose from his body, and the tower in his hand glowed red hot, then shattered. Startled, Alias tried to pull away from the beast, but it wouldn’t release her.
Alias and Zhara both glared at each other but did not speak.
“How could you hit my wife, your own sister?” Akabar asked Alias.
Alias glared at the mage. “She seemed like a good substitute in your absence, Turmite,” Alias replied.
“I beg your pardon?” Akabar said coolly, offended by the vulgar term.
“You heard me,” Alias shouted. “You married this fiend spawn. Why didn’t you just accept Cassana when she offered herself to you? Was Zhara better because she was younger, or because you could have her behind my back?”
The blood rushed from Akabar’s face, shocked as he was by Alias’s words.
In saurial, Grypht asked Dragonbait. “Who is Cassana?”
“A dead sorceress,” the paladin answered in saurial. “Please, Grypht, try to convince them to turn their energies to the dangers we face.”
Grypht nodded. “Alias,” the beast began.
Alias turned suddenly and stared at the huge saurial in astonishment. “You can talk!” she exclaimed.
Grypht snorted with amusement. “Since I was two years old,” he said.
“I mean, you can talk in common, not just in saurial,” Alias explained.
“I know what you meant,” Grypht said. “I cast a tongues spell. It will not last for long, so I need your undivided attention, child. You must let go of your anger for now. We face a great danger, and you must behave now like an adult and set your differences with these people aside, for they are your allies.”
“I don’t need any allies,” Alias snapped. “All I need to know is what you did with Nameless. Where is he?” she demanded. “And Olive, too?”
“The bard and the halfling must have fled to escape Kyre after she imprisoned me in a soul trap. I do not know where they went. We have more important things to concern ourselves with at the moment.”
“Kyre imprisoned you in a soul trap?” Alias asked incredulously. “Why didn’t she tell anyone?”
“Because she was a minion of Moander, preparing the way for the Darkbringer’s return to your world,” Grypht said.
“You’re all crazy!” Alias declared. “Moander is dead. Dead!”