"Ah, well, that was all part of my plan. Bent over, ye could hear me better. Young people are too tall for their own good—makes it harder for them to listen."
Did you find what you needed? Cesira asked the dwarf.
"Aye, but it came at a high price." He wagged a finger at Kall. "This little adventure had better hold my interest, young one," he warned.
"Trust me," said Kall, clapping the dwarf on the shoulder. "If Meisha's message is any indication, it's long past time the Delve's secrets were brought to light. Dumathoin will approve."
"And Abbathor's fury will be unleashed," said Garavin.
"What do you mean?" asked Dantane.
"Meisha's Howling Delve is named for a dozen or so dwarf venturers who fell to the sway of the god Abbathor," said Garavin. "The Howlings worshipped Dumathoin first, but greed corrupted them. They were banished from their clan and went into exile."
"Into the Delve," said Kall, "and into business with Amn. According to Dantane's information, the ancestors of the current Bladesmiles made a substantial and secret fortune buying magic weapons and item components from the Howlings. They made the exchanges through a portal that connected the Bladesmile estate with the Delve."
"Until the day the portal went dark on dwarf heels and never lit again," said Dantane. "The Howlings disappeared and so did the supply of magic. Subsequent Bladesmile generations locked away the portal and removed its keys. If they couldn't make money off it, they didn't want their name associated with arcane magic. Except now the portal's been reactivated."
"By the Shadow Thieves," Kall said, "in a quiet, no-questions-asked arrangement with the Bladesmiles." He looked at Garavin. "We hoped you could tell us what this 'beast' is."
"I couldn't say, but Abbathor and Dumathoin have long been enemies. One is forever trying to draw faithful away from the other. Abbathor won a plump victory with The Howlings, yet this ghost ye spoke of wore Dumathoin's symbol—with the gem sundered from the mountain. I'm suspecting the two gods are still at war over the Howlings. It could be on account of the beast the sorcerous lass hinted at—a prize for Abbathor, surely, and a secret Dumathoin wants bound to the earth. When we go down there, we'll be caught in the middle of the fight."
"Standing between two dwarf gods is not the most appealing place to be," Kall conceded.
"While we're speaking of that," Garavin said, "have ye given any thought to what ye'll do when ye encounter yer friend?"
"I don't know." Kall had avoided thinking about what he would do if Aazen came down into the Delve after him.
If he's made his choice, Cesira put in, You won't dissuade him, not after he's spent so long under Balram's hand. He won't be the friend you remember.
Come with me! Kall remembered shouting, in vain. He had escaped and was given a new life with comrades to walk beside him and to protect him when needed it, because they counted him as a friend. Aazen had had nothing but pain.
Kall couldn't forget that ultimately, without Aazen's help, he never would have had the chance at the life he enjoyed now. Balram would have killed him before it all began, if not for Aazen. Kall would never know how much that small betrayal cost his childhood friend, but he'd seen the scars on the boy as early as seven years old. He knew Balram's fury was immeasurable.
"He gave me a chance," Kall decided. "I'll give him the same."
Garavin nodded, and something that might have been approval lit his eyes.
Is the magic Rays gave you sound? asked Cesira, changing the subject.
"According to Dantane, it is," replied Kall. He held up a large bloodstone, deeply green in color with red flecks. Rays's item, bought at a high price, would transport them to a similar gem located in the portal room at the Bladesmile estate. All they had to do was take care of whatever guards weren't drawn away by Rays's distraction and get the portal key.
"Once we're in, the Shadow Thieves'll be nipping at our heels." Garavin turned his maul over in his hands. "We'll have to be hoping we're not strolling into a maze to find yer friend."
"Then it's fortunate we have the Sword Coast's foremost expert on caves and tunnels in our party," said Kall, grinning.
"Ah, the flattery of the very young and foolhardy knows no bounds," Garavin sighed. "Here I thought ye brought me along for me battle prowess."
"We'll be needing lots of that too." Kall placed the bloodstone on the floor in the center of the tower. "Dantane, you and I are first," Kall reminded the wizard. "Light spell ready, in case we're headed into the dark?"
"Yes," the wizard replied. Kall hesitated. "Slaying spell ready, in case we're headed into certain doom?" he asked hopefully.
Dantane made a gesture that had Laerin clucking his tongue. "Get on with it," the wizard snapped. Kall put his hand on the gem, leaving room for Dantane to do the same. "The rest of you, wait for a moment, then follow." He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze resting last and lingering on Cesira. "Remember what I told you," he said, all trace of humor gone. "Please."
She nodded, not speaking.
The gem pulsed, veiling the tower in a red haze. Cesira blinked, and Kall was gone.
A moment passed in silence. Laerin tossed a gold danter into the air. A circle of six tiny stars winked on its foreface as it fell. Morgan snatched it out of the air, juggling it with nimble fingers.
"Told you," he said smugly.
Laerin sighed. "No tearful parting, no farewell kiss," he said, putting his hand on the bloodstone. "Cesira, my love, I'm going to have a talk with both of you when we return."
Cesira blew him a kiss as he and Morgan disappeared.
Garavin knelt next to the gem, gripping the mastiff by its thick collar.
Watch over him, Cesira said.
"Like as not, he'll be the one watching me, but I take yer meaning. Ye take yer own care, lass," Garavin said. "The last thing he wants is for ye to be hurt by his enemy's hand. He wouldn't recover from that blow."
Cesira shook her head. Balram is my enemy too. I don't know if killing him will resolve anything for Kall.
"But ye're willing to find out?"
Eager, said the druid.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Howling Delve
5 Marpenoth, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)
"Maybe you killed them all," said Talal hopefully. Meisha stood in the center of the cavern where they'd found Braedrin's body. Her eyes were on the ceiling. Her arms dangled loosely at her sides.
Talal held her shirt and boots. She wore only her leather jerkin, bound tightly at the waist by her belt, and her breeches. Her lips curved as Talal fidgeted. "You're welcome to wait with the others," she offered.
"Cowards, all of em," Talal said, pitching his voice to carry down the passage where Haroun and the others stood ready.
"One step at a time," Meisha said, closing her eyes. "They're taking their fates in hand. They're already terrified to be defying the Shadow Thieves."
"Terror?" Talal sniffed. "Terror will be when my clothes fall apart or get burned up standing too close to fire-crazed sorcerers. I'll be tromping around here naked before I beg that bastard Balram for more clothes."
"Gods forbid," came Haroun's voice from the passage.
"Just you keep that in mind while you're clinging to the walls out there!" Talal bellowed.
"Settle down," said Meisha. "I can hear them. Get ready."
"Nets up," Talal called down the tunnel. "Even if you do get them to fly down the right hole," he said, "how do we know they won't just chew through the ropes and get loose, maybe in the warrens?"