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“We’ve got to take it off!” Feril shouted, grabbing at the scale.

“No!” Gilthanas warned, pulling the Kagonesti away. “The knight said Dhamon would die if he removed it. He might have been telling the truth. We don’t know what kind of enchantment was involved.”

“It’s killing him! We’ve got to do something!”

“Wait,” Palin told her, “watch.” He readjusted his hold on his son, who was drifting in and out of consciousness.

Feril and the three men watched as Dhamon’s contortions gradually subsided. He lay on his back, taking great gulps of air into his lungs. After several moments, his eyes met Feril’s, and the Kagonesti helped him to stand.

“I’m all right,” he said. In truth, he felt better than he had a few moments before, stronger somehow, though his leg tingled oddly.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What did he do? The scale? And how did you get here? How did you get here—”

“Alive?” The tingling sensation had left him, and he could no longer feel the heat of the scale, though one glance confirmed that it was still there. “Feril, I—” She was in his arms instantly, tugging at his beard to bring his face down to hers.

“My survival is a very long story,” he said between her kisses. “There’ll be time for it later.” He held her tighter, desperately, and their kisses deepened. “As for this scale, we must cut it out,” he said when he finally came up for air.

“Ahem,” Gilthanas politely coughed after a moment.

Dhamon and Feril slowly separated. His fingers drifted down to entwine with the Kagonesti’s, and his eyes reluctantly left hers to take in Palin, Ulin, and Gilthanas. Curiously, the wolf continued to keep his distance, growling.

“It’s obviously a dragon’s scale,” Palin said, pointing to Dhamon’s leg. “I want to study it as soon as we get back to the ship. We’re not going to take a chance on losing you a second time by cutting it out here.”

Gilthanas retrieved the glaive and pressed the haft into Dhamon’s free hand. “Quite an amazing weapon,” the Qualinesti said.

“It’s part of the long story.” Dhamon looked at the elf for a long moment and then turned to Feril.

“Oh, this is Gilthanas,” she said. “We found him in the desert” She kissed Dhamon again. “But ail that can wait for later, too.”

“Then let’s be on our way,” the Qualinesti said. “There might be more knights close by, and even with your remarkable weapon, we’re not in fighting shape anymore.”

Dhamon nodded. “Wherever on our way is,” he said. “I… uh… have no idea where we are.”

“However you managed to end up here, it is good to see you,” Palin said. The sorcerer looked the former knight up and down and then nodded toward Ulin. “Dhamon, this is my son.”

“Let me carry him,” Dhamon said, passing the glaive to the sorcerer, and effortlessly scooping up Ulin. “Oh, he’s not as heavy as he looks,”

The group turned and headed back to Witdel, Feril leading the way with Dhamon at her side. Behind the entourage, the freed captives chattered animatedly about their rescue.

“Good thing Feril has nothing against humans,” Gilthanas said, winking at Palin. “Otherwise she and Dhamon would never work out.”

Chapter 15

Dividing to Conquer

They reached Witdel shortly before noon. Jasper barely had time to register surprise at Dhamon’s return before Ulin was thrust at him. The dwarf quickly fell to tending the younger Majere, while Usha and Palin hovered around trying to help.

Rig acted pleased to see the former knight, but his expression didn’t match his words, and his eyes wouldn’t hold Dhamon’s gaze. Groller was another matter however. The half-ogre warmly clapped him on the back, pointed curiously at the scale, and then found some of the mariner’s old clothes for Dhamon to wear.

Blister chattered nonstop—about Khellendros’s cave, the prisoners, and anything else that popped into her head.

Dhamon thrust the kender’s animated banter to the back of his head and watched Feril. The Kagonesti directed him to sit on a barrel, and she stood behind him as she set about cutting the tangles from his hair and shaving his uneven beard. Dhamon could have easily handled the tasks himself with the proper tools, but he enjoyed being fussed over. In the end, he looked far better than he had in a long while. His hair was short now—falling in one neat length that just brushed the back of his neck and the bottoms of his ears. Feril smiled apologetically and said there were just too many knots to do anything else with it

“It’ll grow back,” he told her. “If I let it.” Dhamon reached out to her, drawing her close, then scowling when Blister raised her voice so they could hear her better.

“Your hair looks good. Since it’s all one length, it’s more swingy,” Blister said as she surveyed Feril’s handiwork. “Well, it definitely looks better than it looked a few minutes ago. How come you’re not dead?” It was a question she’d wanted to ask since she spotted him and the others heading toward the ship, but she’d restrained herself for what she considered a polite, but inordinately long time.

Dhamon offered a brief version of his rescue by Shimmer the bronze dragon. “The dragon gave me the glaive and agreed to send me someplace—a place not held by an overlord. I thought about you,” he said, as he brushed a curl away from Feril’s face. “And somehow the dragon transported me nearby”

“But not your clothes,” the kender cut in. “Nice weapon, from what I hear, though. The spell probably only worked on flesh and metal.”

“A part of me died when I thought you had died,” Feril said. She cupped Dhamon’s face and ran her fingers along his lips.

“I wonder if Palin knows the spell that got you here?” the

Render continued. “Say, Dhamon, how long were you with the Knights of Takhisis?”

Dhamon sighed and stared down at the kender. “Six years, nearly seven. I was young when they recruited me.” He hoped the kender wouldn’t press the matter, as he had no desire to talk anymore about it, and hoped she’d get distracted with another topic.

“What rank did you hold?”

“I was promoted to knight-officer before I left.”

“And just why did you—”

“We’ll be pushing off within the hour,” Gilthanas announced as he stepped between Blister and Dhamon. “Feril’s probably told you that_we’re in a hurry—a race to gain some ancient magic. You’ve got just enough time to run into town and buy yourself a few clothes.” The elf extended a handful of steel pieces, which Rig had hesitantly surrendered a few minutes earlier. “I know Feril’s not especially enamored of cities, but I bet she could help.”

The Kagonesti happily tugged Dhamon toward the docks, and away from Blister’s suggestions about colors, styles, and fabrics.

“Within the hour!” Gilthanas called after them. The Qualinesti turned his attention to the kender, who wanted to hear his version of the fight with the knights outside Witdel.

Later that night, when Flint’s Anvil was again heading toward Southern Ergoth, Palin and Usha called a meeting. Sageth paced near them, consulting his tablet and speculating as to whether the ship or the dragon would reach the artifacts first.

“Ulin, Gilthanas, and Groller will be traveling to the Tomb of Huma to find the lance,” Palin began.

“And he with the purest heart should carry it,” Sageth interrupted. “It will scald the soul and body of an evil man—burn the flesh, singe the bone, destroy the—”

“We’re all good people here,” Ulin said.