While her companions laughed, Dahl slipped around the pen and past a stable, then past another stable where something big and growling stirred the shadows. He peered in a window and saw a massive creature, all leathery wings and gasping mouth. Veserab, he thought. Shit. Whoever ran this place had clout in the city of Shade to ride one of the monstrous mounts.
Another building-this one made of the same strange, craggy stone as the tower only windowless-cut off Dahl’s path as it stretched across the space between the tower and the wall.
The tower reached high enough to make a powerful caster a strong concern-you could see an army approaching from any direction up there. The wall around the courtyard would not hold against siege engines, though-too low, not fortified enough. And the forces. . there were more guards on the wall, but the racket they made suggested there was a brawl on and they were clustered near the large building. Not watching. Curious.
Dahl eased up a watchtower’s stairs to the wall’s top. The shadar-kai guards were circled around two of their fellows, both bleeding and bruised. Two of the guards looked back at him, and Dahl caught his breath. He made a face and waved at them, as if telling them to continue, to keep to themselves. The shadar-kai sneered back, but it was a good enough imitation. They returned to their battle, muttering insults about fragile humans to each other. Dahl nearly vomited in relief.
He walked quickly along the wall, looking for a likely landing place, and surveyed the surrounding land as he did. On the other side of the wall, the castle was surrounded by smaller buildings. Barracks? he thought. A village? No way to tell in this light but to pull one of the inhabitants out and ask. Beyond the buildings, the sliver of a moon reflected off a lake, and traced the edge of a mountain peak. Starmounts? he thought. Sword Mountains? Something farther afield?
Dahl dropped down the other side of the wall and quickly slipped into the darkened spaces between the squat, square huts. Woodsmoke hung on the air-scores of cookfires leaking out the twig-thatched roofs-but there were no lights hanging in the dark alleyways. Only the moon keeping watch over her wicked sister’s Shadovar followers and whatever they were up to. Dahl kept moving toward the edge of the settlement.
Beyond the last of the buildings the land rose to a steep hill scattered with rocks and low brush. Mountain sedge, frills of mauve orclar edging the rocks, clumps of snowstars shining bright in the moonlight against dark leaves-he was well north of Waterdeep. Dahl climbed, keeping to cover. A crater, he thought.
Near the peak of the slope he nearly crossed the path of a shadar-kai patrol. He crouched beneath a scraggly yew as the two women passed, jangling with blades and chains and spikes and arguing with one another in the tongue of the Netherese.
Dahl frowned. He’d seen more attentive guards patrolling Waterdeep’s sewer. He glanced back the way he’d come and marked the edge of a crater that went nearly all the way around the fortress and its settlement. Beyond the land dropped away into dark forest, blurred by clouds or maybe the thin air. Long scramble down, he thought.
Long scramble back, he thought, to get Farideh. Old worries, old thoughts surged up in him. Oghma, let that have been the right choice. The farther he got from her, the less sure he was.
When the shadar-kai were out of sight and out of earshot, Dahl sprinted across the distance, toward the next patch of brush.
As he crossed the trail the guards used, his foot hit a rill in the dark, and he stumbled. Arms outstretched to cushion his fall, Dahl caught himself instead on the invisible barrier surrounding the strange village.
The crack of something hitting the wall jerked Havilar from her slumber. She sat up, tense and ready to attack whoever had made the noise. But the room was empty. The banging came again, and she considered the wall. Farideh’s room was on the other side. She pounded against the wall and smacked her knuckle crooked on the boards. Pain shot up her arm and forced a curse out of her mouth.
She sucked on the scrape, glad no one had seen that. All her anger and grief welled up-no. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to be awake. She reached for the wine bottle again, and spotted the note beneath it.
Havilar, she read.
There’s nothing I can say to fix what’s happened. But I hope you know I did what I thought I had to, what I thought I needed to do to protect us both. If anything happened to you I would never forgive myself, and the worst thing to bear is that now, I’ve made something happen that’s more terrible than I could have imagined.
You should know that our imprisonment wasn’t the price of Sairché’s protection. I owe her a favor, and she’s come to collect. I hope I come back, but if I don’t, I love you and tell Mehen I love him too. I am so sorry. I hope this makes things easier The necklace is yours. You were right. Rubies suit you better.
Havilar stared at the letter for several breaths, uncertain whether she wanted to cry out and run after her sister or crush the note into a ball and forget she ever saw it. She wanted to crush it, she realized. Even if she was scared and sad and aching in every corner of her heart, she still wanted to crumple up the foolscap and kick it under the bed.
The knock came again, and Havilar’s anger lit. As if she couldn’t hear Farideh gathering her things. As if a letter made the difference. As if Farideh running off into danger weren’t just another way she didn’t trust Havilar. If Farideh was going to go, then she ought to get on with it.
She stood woozily and caught herself on the table. . and noticed the ruby necklace Sairché had given Farideh balled against the wall like a frightened viper. As she watched, it uncoiled, the largest stone falling over with a clink.
That necklace, Havilar thought. That stupid necklace. What was it but a great big sign that no matter what Farideh did, she’d be rewarded and Havilar would be left behind? The big ruby in the middle hung crooked, as if someone had bent it toward the door. She scooped it off the ground, and slammed the largest stone against the corner of the table.
She expected the gem to rattle her hand and make her feel stupid.
But the ruby shattered under her palm, and the necklace exploded.
Havilar was thrown backward into the door by the force of the cloud of ash, knocking the wind from her. Her eardrums ached, but there was little sound beyond the tinkle of glass, the rush of smoke, and the sound of Havilar coughing.
And someone else coughing. Havilar rolled to her feet and peered into the room as the smoke thinned. She drew the little knife from her belt as the shape of a person came clear.
Lorcan, slowly standing.
“Shit and ashes!” he all but howled. He loomed over Havilar, looking like nothing so much as the sort of devil that crept into her nightmares, fierce and murderous. Ready to tear her apart. His hands were curled into weapons, and all Havi had was her little knife. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he snarled.
Havilar might still have been drunk, might have been frightened out of her mind. But she was still wise enough to reach into her shirt and clutch the amulet of Selûne that had settled between her breasts.
“V–Vennela,” she said, the trigger word sliding up, unimpeded by her frozen thoughts. A flash of silver light and Lorcan hissed as the binding spell crackled over him.
“Is that how we’re doing things now, you ungrateful little-”
Something about the air seemed to snap and whip past Havilar. Lorcan broke off with a cry of pain that had nothing to do with the binding, and fell to the floor. Havilar blinked at the strange sensation, gone so quickly she thought she might have imagined it.