“Wonderful? Why wonderful?” Grypht asked.
“Because then Dragonbait could be with his people, but I wouldn’t lose him entirely,” Alias explained.
“You are Champion’s sister and a singer of soul songs for our tribe; we are your people as well. Will you stay with us awhile?” the wizard asked. “We could use your advice.”
“Yes, of course,” Alias agreed. The emptiness that the deaths of Akabar and Finder had created in her heart lifted slightly with the realization that someone else needed her, that she had a new family and new duties.
“You are certain that no one will contest our occupation of this vale?” the saurial wizard asked Elminster. “In our world, a place like this would be envied by many tribes.”
Elminster shook his head. “This vale was once the home of elves. They left long ago. It has been hidden magically for so long that few know of its existence. Should ye have any problems, the Harpers and the Lord of Shadowdale are eager to become thy allies and help defend thy tribe until ye are able to defend thy selves again.”
Grypht nodded. “That is enough. If the people agree, we will stay. Now I will sleep,” he said. Then he rose to his feet and went off to rest, his apprentices following him.
When they were alone, Alias asked Elminster, “Where have you been? Why didn’t you return right away from Grypht’s world after his transference spell took you there? Mourngrym said you can always get back home no matter where you go.”
“I assure thee, Alias, I didst try,” the old sage replied, “but unbeknownst to Grypht, Moander had cast a powerful lock spell that prevented anyone from escaping Grypht’s world by teleportation or worldwalking. Grypht managed to escape only because he used a transference spell that Moander had not foreseen to include in the lock spell. I might have cast a transference spell myself, but I could not use it on Grypht’s apprentices and I didst not wish to abandon them. The four of us began trekking overland, trying to reach a gate to Tarterus.”
“But when Morala scried for you, you were alone,” Alias said.
“Nay. Grypht’s apprentices traveled with me, but I made them invisible to keep them safe,” Elminster explained. Olive and Dragonbait came up to them at that moment and sat on either side of Alias. Dragonbait stroked Alias’s sword arm once, and she smiled up at him, grateful to have her brother with her. Olive began playing with the fruit and bread laid out on the ground, but she didn’t feel tempted to eat any of it.
“And when you reached the gate to Tarterus, what happened?” Alias asked Elminster.
“We did not reach the gate. It was another two days’ journey. Fortunately I was finally able to cast a worldwalk spell to take myself and Grypht’s apprentices to Shadowdale when Moander’s lock spell failed.” The sage stressed the last four words so strongly that Alias realized immediately there was something unusual about Moander’s failed spell.
“So why did it fail?” she asked.
“Because not only has Moander’s body in the Realms been destroyed this past night, but someone killed Moander’s true body in the Abyss. The god has been destroyed forever.”
“Akabar?” Alias asked with astonishment. “He said the gods told him to do just that.”
“Partly” Elminster replied. “Remember last year when I told thee of the old prophecy that ye would free the Darkbringer?”
Alias nodded wordlessly.
“There was another prophecy that went with it: ‘When the good man teaches wisdom to the fool, the Darkbringer will die.’ ”
“Akabar and Finder,” Alias whispered.
Elminster nodded.
“But how did they get to the Abyss?” the swordswoman asked.
“There is a gate to Tarterus in this vale. The saurials built Moander’s new body around it. Akabar and Finder must have passed through the gate and arrived somehow in the Abyss.”
“So they’ve saved everyone from Moander, not just the Realms?” Olive asked.
“Yes,” Elminster replied.
“You don’t look too happy about that,” Olive said.
“I am not unhappy, only anxious,” the sage answered. “When a god’s existence ends, something or someone else is always ready to snatch up its powers. There is no knowing whether the power will go to a good or evil being.”
Morala, Breck, and Mourngrym walked up to the old oak tree where Elminster and the two adventurers sat.
“We wanted you to know that Lord Mourngrym has taken Kyre’s place as the third Harper in our tribunal, and we have come to a decision,” Morala said, “regarding the Nameless Bard.”
“Finder Wyvernspur,” Alias reminded the priestess.
“Exactly,” Breck said. “We’ve voted to rescind our decree banishing his name and songs and pardon him for his crimes.”
“Sort of a case of closing the gate after the cows have escaped, isn’t it?” Olive asked.
“There is a principle involved here, Mistress Ruskettle,” Morala said.
“We understand that it won’t make up for his loss, Alias,” the Lord of Shadowdale said. “But the truth will be told about him, and everyone will know he died a hero.”
“Thank you, Mourngrym,” Alias replied. “I appreciate it. Finder would appreciate it, too.”
“Finder would rather be alive,” Olive muttered.
Olive felt something tug at one of her curls, and she heard Finder’s voice whisper in her head, Don’t sulk, little Lady Luck. It doesn’t become you.
The halfling looked around suddenly, her eyes wide.
“What’s wrong, Olive?” Alias asked.
“Did you hear something?” Olive asked. “A voice?”
Alias shook her head.
“And since Finder is no longer a Harper in disgrace,” Breck Orcsbane said, “we must welcome his choice of candidates to our ranks.”
Olive, struggling to understand why she had suddenly heard Finder’s voice so clearly when no one else had, was oblivious to the fact that everyone’s eyes were on her.
Dragonbait signed subtly to the halfling in the thieves’ hand cant. They mean you, rogue.
“Me?” the halfling said. “What about me?”
“I told them,” Alias explained, “that Finder gave you his Harper’s pin.”
“Pin?” Olive asked slyly, suddenly aware that if she didn’t watch her step, she could end up an official snooty, goody-goody Harper, complete with responsibilities to live up to and rules to follow. “I haven’t got any pin,” she insisted. It was true, since she’d fastened Finder’s Harper’s pin to his cloak before he’d gone off to fight Moander. She tossed her hair defiantly.
Something slid down her hair and landed on the ground directly in front of her. There was no mistaking the glittering silver harp-and-crescent-moon pattern of the pin, which had seemed to dislodge itself from behind her ear.
Elminster reached over and held up the pin. “Yes … this is Finder’s pin,” the sage said. “I saw him give it to the halfling last year after she freed him from Cassana’s dungeon, then helped him rescue Akabar, Alias, and Dragonbait.”
“Actually, we’ve been looking for someone just like you for a special project,” Breck Orcsbane said, “so we’re lucky you came along.”
Olive sighed. She didn’t know how he’d done it, but she suspected that Finder had once more gotten her mixed up in some crazy adventure.
The bard chuckled and leaned back against the frozen corpse of Moander—the Darkbringer’s true body. He was very tired—nearly exhausted, in fact. Scrying on and sending a message to Olive and teleporting his silver Harper’s pin to the Realms had expended more energy than he could really afford. Still, it had been worth it, just to see the look on the halfling’s face when she discovered herself inducted into the ranks of the Harpers.
Alias would be fine with Dragonbait, but since the bard wasn’t sure when or if he’d ever find the power to return to the Realms, he had decided that the Harpers would have to look after Olive for him.