Krystin agreed. They found a pair of dressing gowns and retreated behind a boulder, where they changed clothes, then returned to the fire and placed their leathers as close to the flames as they could. Myrmeen lay down first, her back turned to Krystin, who decided to sleep beside her. Neither had bothered to lace the backs of their gowns, and, in the fire's flickering yellow light Krystin was able to see a network of scars upon her mother's bare back. She said nothing about it and tried to fall asleep, but was still awake half an hour later, thinking of the wounds her mother had endured.
Krystin shifted and felt the hard, cold weight of the emerald locket slap against the top of her breasts. The chain around her throat felt like a garrote.
Why did you do it, she chided herself. You should have let the bastard kill you. You should have warned Myrmeen.
Knowing that she would not be able to sleep as long as she wore the locket, Krystin removed the cold metal amulet and placed it in her pouch. She curled up behind Myrmeen, looked at the scars on the woman's back, and remembered her words: They can be marks of courage. I have several myself, each with its own story to tell.
While Myrmeen slept, Krystin gently traced each of the dozen scars she counted on Myrmeen's back and tried to imagine where the woman had received each one. There were battles with the Black Robes, the Zhentarim, she was certain. Others had come from the raking talons of ores and hobgoblins. A fall from a great height, bucked from an evil dragon, accounted for another scar, and the fiery bolts of a clan of wizards, yet another. At least one, she was certain, had come from the hand of an over-enthusiastic lover.
When she could no longer bear to stay awake, Krystin put an arm over Myrmeen, pressed her face into the woman's neck, and allowed sleep to come for her.
That night, the nightmares left them in peace.
Sixteen
By Myrmeen's estimate, they had traveled six miles along the shores of the Calim River before Shandower signaled for the group to halt. They had been driven into the mountainous regions high above the river, making casual detours to the beach an impossibility. For the last two hours they carefully had made their way along one of the many tiers of rock chiseled from a cliff above the Shining Sea. The trail had been known only to Shandower. Before long, the path dipped treacherously and they were forced to lead their mounts. Their boots and the frightened animals' hooves slid too often for the comfort of anyone but Shandower, who had grinned as they had made their way down to a midlevel rise. The cliffs edge sagged, then rose again.
They were stopped before a bare section of sienna rock. The rich blue sky played host to soft white mushroom clouds that might have been kingdoms for fairy folk, or so Krystin had imagined them, to help relieve the boredom of the journey. Far below, white foam licked at the rocks that composed the sea's pleasant shoreline.
There's nothing here, Myrmeen thought, then realized, that's exactly the point. Shandower would not hide an object that could cripple an entire race of beings where people were likely to stumble' upon it every day.
"Prepare yourselves," Shandower said as he leaned forward and kissed the closest stone. Before any of the travelers could wonder if he had lost his mind, the rocks faded, revealing a huge black mouth on the cliffs surface. One of the mounts reared, and Reisz quickly brought the creature under control, though the unexpected proximity of sorcery had set his own nerves jangling.
Krystin's eyes adjusted first to the sudden darkness before them. "Caverns," she said.
At the sound of her voice, the darkness was replaced by a soft yellow light that intensified as thousands of candles suddenly were lighted, one by one, in a pattern not unlike falling dominoes. The light revealed a breathtaking expanse of towering columns and branching pathways that were the soft brownish white of a dust storm, or memories faded by time. Myriad dripping stalactites, resembling icicles made of soft, burnished stone, hung from above. Craggy depressions interrupted the fine line work wrought by nature within the main gallery.
Shandower led them inside, where they found an area laid out for the mounts to graze upon. "We'll have to carry everything from here."
The friends gathered their supplies and followed Shandower as he led them through the labyrinthine depths of the caves that had served as his home when he was not waging his war.
"Can anyone follow us?" Myrmeen asked.
"No," Shandower said calmly. "The winds will wipe away our tracks, and the magic that allowed us to come inside is very particular. I don't think any of the Night Parade will be able to get past its test for admittance."
"Why's that?" Myrmeen asked.
"Because only love can open this doorway," he whispered.
He guided the party to a small cavern where a boat sat upon a small pool of water. Ord and Reisz handled the rows for the one-armed man and soon they were floating across the waters in Shandower's boat. They passed beneath a canopy of ra-pierlike stalactites and drifted into a darkened passage.
Krystin gasped as they entered a grotto that was lighted, not by arcane fires, but by something that appeared more majestic from a distance, and somewhat distasteful up close. "Glowworms," Ord said with a laugh. Krystin ignored his words. The view was spectacular. The chamber's jet-black, craggy roof was covered with tiny greenish white lights that sometimes flickered like stars and were grouped in patterns as beautiful as the constellations.
"The fibers are sticky. They attract flies. That's why the lights flicker, when a fly is caught," Ord said. Krystin sighed. She had not heard a word. "The wall sealed itself behind us when we came in," Myrmeen said. "If this place is secure and there is no other way in or out, why is the air so fresh?"
"There is a pit at the center of the caverns," Shandower said. "It drops to an incredible depth and the walls are un-climbable, the shaft very slick and nearly bottomless. Air comes in from a small crevice at the base and through tiny cracks all about this place."
"What about the apparatus?" Ord said sharply. "You said it's here, didn't you?"
"There's a niche on the wall of the pit," Shandower said as they passed into a well-lighted chamber. There they anchored the boat and walked to a heavy, wooden door that opened when Shandower raised his hand before it. "The apparatus rests in a box jammed into the niche." "That's all the protection it has?" Reisz asked. "No, it's guarded by spells purchased from the finest sorcerers in the Realms. Even I cannot touch it."
They spent several hours exploring the wing that Shandower had secured for himself, surprised by the furnishings in many rooms. There were silk sheets, plush bedspreads, and ornate chairs, tables, and bureaus. These items stood out in sharp contrast to the frequently arched ceilings. Some of the chambers had flat ceilings, others were adorned with stalactites, and many were blasted smooth by hand or magic.
Reisz urged Krystin to follow him through a small keyhole-shaped opening. They promised the others that they would return shortly, then departed. Reisz was concerned with the sudden change he had noted in Krystin's behavior toward Myrmeen. He had been encouraging Myrmeen to make peace with the girl, but now his instincts were warning him that perhaps Krystin was not to be trusted. Her acidic tongue had relaxed to allow gentle and kind words to leave the girl's mouth, and that unnerved him terribly.
They entered a glowing crystal cave. The walls and unusual formations lining the cave appeared to have been carefully sculpted from glass and lighted by a secret inner fire. Even the ground beneath them radiated a pure silver light that glowed bright in places then dimmed and resurfaced several feet from its last manifestation.
Reisz swallowed hard. He was not certain how to get what he wanted from this situation, or exactly what he hoped to prove. You're overreacting, he scolded himself. The child's been through every hell imaginable, fought at your side. She deserves better than an old warrior's suspicion.