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“No!” Usha cried. “Why won’t you believe us?”

“We believe in ourselves.”

“You are right to be wary of strangers, and I will ask for no special treatment,” said Palin.

“Keep me here with you. I am Palin’s wife. I was in the Abyss. I watched the dragons die, too. Let me be the guarantee that he told you the truth. Let him go to the stronghold and try to find what he’s looking for.”

The Qualinesti leaned her head to the side. “Whoever you are, you are brave.” She pursed her thin lips, running a slender finger across her chin. “But is your offer sufficient?” She closed her eyes and her brow furrowed, as if she was considering the matter.

“Don’t do this,” Palin urgently whispered to his wife. “My magic.. “

“You’d rather us all die by their arrows?” Usha said softly. “Are your spells quicker than those archers?”

“We accept your offer,” the elf finally answered, taking note of Palin’s admirable concern. “Sorcerer—it is a long walk to the stronghold—for those who move awkwardly through the woods. Three weeks we will give you for your fool’s errand. If you have not returned to this clearing at the end of that time with proof that all you seek to take from this land is the scepter, we will know that you failed, or that you lied to us and are indeed spies. Your woman’s life will be forfeit. And, if you still live, we will track you down and finish this job.”

The elf motioned to the archers. They lowered their bows and backed into the foliage. Within a heartbeat, she had disappeared amidst the leaves, too.

The net jerked violently, then plummeted like a rock.

With no room to maneuver in their hemp cocoon, the quartet couldn’t brace for the landing. The ground rushed up to meet them, and they hit with bone-jarring impact. Feril crumpled on her shoulder, her arm pinned beneath her, and Usha on top of her. Palin landed partly on his stomach and partly on Jasper.

The sorcerer unsheathed his dagger, and began cutting at the net. Several moments later, they were free. They gingerly moved their limbs to make sure nothing was broken.

Palin held his wife close. “I should stay, not you.”

“I’ll be all right. Don’t worry. You’re the only one who’s been to the tower before.”

“That was years ago, when I was helping Gilthas try to find Beryl’s lair. The place has changed so much. If only I could visualize it enough to summon us there…”

“Really, I’ll be all right. Just don’t dawdle.”

He stared into her golden eyes, as he’d stared into them years ago before he had ventured into the Abyss during the Chaos War.

“There’s no sign of them,” Jasper said. He looked about on the ground, seeing no footprints and noting that the trampled grass was already beginning to spring back up.

“They’re here, watching us,” Feril said.

Palin cupped Usha’s chin with his trembling hand, kissed her, and took a last lingering look into her eyes. “We’ll be back in time,” he promised.

“Then let’s move,” the dwarf said. He looked about, an uneasy expression on his wide face. He couldn’t see the Qualinesti, but he knew Feril was right. A prickling feeling on the back of his neck told him they were being watched. His tunic was muddy and grass-stained, his face striped with red where the net had pressed against it And his companions looked equally disheveled.

Palin pointed to the east. “This way.”

A week later they found the stronghold—barely. They had passed by the area twice, and only Palin’s insistence that it was somewhere nearby kept them from moving on and looking elsewhere.

The tower was wedged into a crevice in a moss-draped, .rocky hillside. It was as if the forest and the land were trying to swallow the structure, not wanting a work of man to mar this place’s primitive beauty. What little bits of stone were visible were tinted green with moss and looked as if they were part of the hill. Thick patches of well-established ferns grew all around it, and a riot of vines stretched from the base of the tower to its crenelated top more than fifty feet above the forest loam. More vines grew from the top of the hill to the bottom, practically blanketing the structure.

Spider monkeys cavorted up and down the vines, and dozens of the orange and yellow parrots had made nests within niches. Several thick vines had pulled away from the top of the tower, as if something too large, like an ape or gorilla, had tried to use them for climbing. A shadowy recess covered by a draping of ivy strands marked the doorway at the base.

Feril and Palin stared at the structure, while Jasper struggled through the bushes that barred easy access. “You two coming?” The dwarf pulled at a stubborn, broad leafed plant, not noticing the Kagonesti hesitate.

The wooden door, warped from moisture and age, stood slightly ajar.

“Someone’s been here,” Feril whispered.

“Maybe the elven resistance,” Palin speculated. “Maybe the woman lied about her men avoiding this place.”

“Or maybe the dragon’s been here,” Jasper wondered aloud.

Palin took a deep breath, parted the leafy curtain, and tugged on the rusted latch.

The old door swung open with a gentle groan, revealing shadows and blackness. A pair of glowing yellow eyes peered out from the darkness beyond.

Chapter 20

“Thinking about her, aren’t you?” Blister stood at the ship’s railing, looked up at Dhamon, and repeated the question more loudly. She gave him a pouty face when she received no reply. “Well, I’d certainly be thinking about her if I were you. She’s beautiful and smart, can talk to all sorts of animals. She has tattoos, and she obviously is in love with you. I’d be thinking a lot about her, especially after the past few days.”

He finally nodded. “Yes, I am thinking about her” He was staring at the coast of Abanasinia, at a city called Zaradene that they were swiftly approaching. Rig planned to stop there for the better part of the day to have the mizzen sail replaced and to pick up some fresh water and fruit before heading on to the Silver Stair on Schallsea.

The mariner slowly steered the ship toward one of the deep-water docks. It was a sizeable town that obviously relied heavily on sea trade. The docks were nearly full of ships— two- and three-masted schooners primarily, and several caravels. It took big ships to brave the treacherous waters between Southern Ergoth and Abanasinia. A couple of massive merchant galleys were anchored out in the harbor, their longboats in the process of transporting some of the crews ashore.

The smaller docks were filled with local fishing vessels that ran the gamut from large boats in good repair, newly painted and with several hands on board, to scows with warped wood that seemed to barely stay afloat.

The shore was busy this late afternoon. Fishermen sold their wares to all manner of customers, from men and women picking out a fish or two that would be their evening’s main course, to inn owners buying barrels full of them. Young women in multicolored dresses danced, entertaining the sailors for a few coins. And the street was thick with urchins looking for handouts from sympathetic travelers and keeping an eye out for bulging purses that could be easily snatched.

This would be a fair place to live, Dhamon thought to himself. Perhaps he and Feril could find a measure of happiness in a cozy stone cottage in a town like this, he mused—after they made their stand against the dragons. And if they lived through such foolhardiness.

Spaced evenly along the city’s shore and along its southeastern boundary were numerous towers, atop which stood men with spyglasses pressed to their eyes. Some scanned across the water to Southern Ergoth, Frost’s realm. Others looked to the far south where Beryl held sway. So far the White had stayed put on his icy domain, and Beryl’s forest hadn’t grown any farther north in the past decade, hinting that the Green was content to lord over the Qualinesti homeland.