“Then why hasn’t Elminster returned home?” Breck demanded.
“I can only assume that somehow the Darkbringer has interfered with his returning,” Grypht answered.
“What did you do with Nameless?” Breck asked.
“Nothing,” Grypht replied. “As I already told Alias, the bard and Olive must have fled to escape from Kyre after she trapped me in her soul gem. I was tracking Olive with the bard’s magic stone, but I turned back when Akabar told me Champion was in Shadowdale.”
Unable to refute the wizard’s story, the ranger became less adamant, but he remained cautious. “I still need more proof,” he said. “Where’s the finder’s stone now?”
Grypht released the ranger and pulled from his robe the prize he had looted from Kyre’s body.
“All right,” Breck said. “Think of someone in your tribe whom Moander has enslaved and sent to the Realms,” he ordered the wizard.
Grypht held the stone and concentrated on a saurial he suspected would still be alive, despite the deprivations Moander put its slaves through. The finder’s stone sent a beam northwest by westward, toward the peaks of the Desertsmouth Mountains.
“Give Alias the stone,” Breck ordered.
Grypht tossed the stone to the swordswoman.
“Think about Nameless,” the ranger told Alias.
Alias did as the ranger asked. The first beam of light faded and a second one shot out to the southwest. Alias felt a sense of relief. Wherever the bard was, he was far from Moander’s saurial slaves.
Breck wore a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Nameless used the stone to cast a tongues spell so he could speak with Grypht,” Akabar explained. “I tried to tap into the stone’s magic last night, but it wouldn’t work for me except as a compass.”
“I’ll bet it would work for Alias,” Breck said.
“Me? I’m not a mage,” the swordswoman said. “What do I know about magic stones?”
“You’re Nameless’s heir apparent, so to speak,” Breck said. “Try the stone for something other than detecting someone,” he suggested.
Alias peered into the depths of the stone, remembering how cryptic Elminster had been on the night last year when he’d given it to her. He must have thought she could use it, too. Back then, when she hadn’t even known about Nameless, the magic object had seemed to her to be just another light stone. Now that she knew it had belonged to the bard, however, a whole new set of memories came to her—memories that Nameless must have implanted in her before she was “born”—memories of how to use the stone.
“Nameless triggered it with—” Grypht began.
“Music,” Alias interrupted.
Grypht nodded. “The bard cast a tongues spell with it. Since my own tongues spell will wear off shortly, it would be helpful if you could speak saurial. The bard sang eight notes. I’ll try to hum them—”
Alias waved to Grypht to be silent and closed her eyes. “I know what to do,” she said. It was almost as if she could hear Nameless instructing her: “To cast a tongues spell, sing an A-minor scale.…”
Alias sang the scale, at the same time concentrating on the strange saurial tongue. The stone glowed yellow in her hand; then the glow traveled up her arms and surrounded her whole body. Alias was suddenly aware of a myriad of scents wafting from both Grypht and Dragonbait. She could not only smell the scents, but also taste them as well. Then, unexpectedly, the air filled with noises, too—high-pitched whistles and clicks that complemented the scents.
“It seems to have worked. Tell me it worked,” Grypht said to Alias in saurial. He gave off a scent like chicken soup, which the swordswoman realized indicated impatience.
“But I don’t just smell you,” Alias said in saurial. “I hear you!”
“Smells merely convey emotions, emphasis, intonation—” Grypht began to explain.
“But the words are clicks and whistles!” Alias completed the thought for him. “Why couldn’t I hear them before?” she asked with puzzlement.
“Your ears normally don’t work as well as ours,” Grypht said with a shrug.
Dragonbait reached up and tapped Grypht’s elbow. “High One,” the paladin addressed the wizard, and Alias realized that the name “Grypht” was the closest human approximation to the saurial words for “High One,” though whether it was the wizard’s name or title she could not tell.
“I would like to speak with my sister,” Dragonbait said, issuing a scent like basil, which Alias realized indicated he desired privacy.
“Champion, there simply isn’t time,” Grypht replied. “We have much to discuss before the spell Alias cast wears off.”
“The tongues spell cast from the stone is permanent,” Alias said.
Grypht looked at the swordswoman in disbelief. “You must be mistaken. You do not understand magic. It takes a tremendous amount of power to make a spell permanent,” the wizard explained.
Alias shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t understand magic, but I know this spell is permanent.”
Grypht still looked doubtful. He nodded to Dragonbait. “Have your talk,” he said, “but speak quickly.” The saurial wizard turned away and walked off, taking Akabar and Zhara and Breck with him.
Alias was left alone with Dragonbait. The swordswoman looked down at the ground and shifted her weight nervously onto one leg. She could no longer shut out the paladin’s words now by turning her back on his signing fingers, and the memory of how she had done so filled her with embarrassment.
“Sister,” Dragonbait said, “will you accept my apology now, if I offer it in my own language?”
Alias could smell the saurial’s sadness and tenderness. She could smell and taste something minty, too, an emotion she’d never sensed in Dragonbait. It was remorse. He was really sorry, and there was no way she could deny it.
Yesterday, Alias thought, I told Morala that I would love Finder no matter what secret he told me, yet I would have left Dragonbait without even giving him a chance to explain. How could I be so cruel and unforgiving? The swordswoman put her hands on the paladin’s chest and started to weep.
“You are right to complain that I treat you like a child,” Dragonbait said, stroking the brand on her right arm. “I am over-protective and domineering. I was afraid you’d be angry, so I said nothing about Zhara, though I could smell that she was your sister immediately. Then I made matters worse by bringing Zhara along without asking you, because I did not want to argue with you. I just did what I thought should be done. I took your property and gave it to her without your permission. I am no better than a thief.”
“Much worse,” Alias said, looking up at the paladin. “A good thief wouldn’t get caught.”
Dragonbait looked startled, then caught the scent of mischief in Alias’s scent and realized she was teasing him. He smiled and brushed the tears from her face.
“I’m sorry about fighting with Zhara,” she said.
“As I said before, if you offend Zhara, it is Zhara you must apologize to,” the paladin reminded her.
“Right,” Alias said. “I still don’t trust her, though.”
“Alias,” the saurial said with an earthy scent of frustration, “she is your sister.”
“That’s why I don’t trust her,” Alias said. “Dragonbait, the spell Moander’s minions cast on me last year made me unleash Moander on the Realms without even realizing what I was doing. Phalse put a quest spell on me to hunt down Moander in the Abyss. It nearly tore me apart resisting it. I managed to break the spell only by killing Phalse. Zhara may think she’s working against Moander, but she could be working for Phalse.”
“Destroying Moander would not be an evil thing merely because some other evil being wishes it,” the paladin argued. “Besides, there is more at stake here, or had you forgotten what Grypht just said. The Darkbringer has enslaved my people. I must accompany Grypht and challenge Moander. Akabar and I destroyed the Darkbringer once. It is my hope we can do so again.”