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"Ye are a trusting spirit, lad," said Elminster. "It speaks well of thy own honesty-if not thy cunning wit."

"The phaerimm have been close on our trail the entire time," explained Melegaunt. "I thought it best to keep the plan to myself, lest bad come to worse."

"A wise precaution." Elminster stepped closer to Melegaunt and offered his ear. "But ye can tell me."

Melegaunt retreated, and Vala interposed herself between her master and his interrogator. Elminster might have missed the subtle tension that came to her body, but Galaeron did not

"I can handle matters here," said Melegaunt "If you truly want to do some good, you'll join Khelben in the south. A second hand flinging Mystra's silver fire would go far toward saving his company."

This drew a wry smile from Elminster. "Ye know more about me than I about thee… and 1 can see ye mean to keep it so."

"Your deeds have made a great name for you," said Melegaunt. "I have lived a quieter life, but Galaeron can tell you my intentions are good."

Elminster's voice turned hard. "I keep my own counsel about such things."

"That is your privilege," said Melegaunt. "Just as it is mine."

Elminster waited for him to elaborate, then finally sighed and shook his head. "Ah, well, 1 had hoped to do this a simpler way."

He slipped a hand into his pocket. Vala was instantly moving, one hand chopping for his throat and the other reaching for the offending arm.

A few hairs shy of his body, a blue aura flashed beneath her hands. She cried out in shock and pulled her arms back, then took one glance at her smoking fingertips and plunged them into the snow. Elminster gave her a bemused look, then pulled a small wad of fireweed out of his pocket and refilled his pipe.

"What'd ye think, girl? That I meant to enchant his secrets from him?" Elminster snapped his fingers, then held a small flame over the bowl of his pipe. "I've better ways than that."

The wizard puffed on his fireweed and glowered at Melegaunt through the awful-smelling smoke. The gaze Melegaunt returned was too nervous to be called a glare, but neither did he look away Galaeron and the others watched in tense silence, reassured by Turlang's presence-and the great boughs he stretched over the pair's heads-that the matter would not come to a duel of spells, yet worried enough that they hardly dared breathe for fear of touching off a fight. Even Aris tore himself away from the stormlodge to come loom over the standoff.

Galaeron did not know what to make of the situation. Elminster was, by all accounts, a loyal elf-friend and a man of character, yet he seemed to presume a great deal in the demands he made of Melegaunt On the other hand, Melegaunt had used Lord Imesfor to lure the illithids away-an act destined to be viewed in a dim light by anyone who did not understand how important their escape had been. Even knowing that Imesfor had survived, the thought still sent a guilty shudder down Galaeron's spine. How could Elminster, who had never seen Melegaunt risk his own life for others, react to the shadowmage's furtive nature with anything but suspicion?

Galaeron interposed himself between the mages. "It pains me to see you two off to such a bad start." He turned first to Elminster. "Given what happened to Lord Imesfor, your suspicions are reasonable, but Melegaunt did nothing wrong. Imesfor's life was Melegaunt's to do with as he pleased."

Elminster's were not the only human eyes to grow wide, but the mage was almost as quick as Lady Morgwais to take Galaeron's meaning.

The Rule of Saving?" Elminster said. "I haven't heard that invoked in five hundred years!"

"Handsome as you are, you are not an elf," said Morgwais. She sidled up to Elminster and gave his beard a meaningful tug. "If Melegaunt saved Imesfor's life…"

"And he did." Galaeron deliberately left out mention of his own part in the rescue. "I saw that much with my own eyes."

"You see? Melegaunt did nothing wrong!" Morgwais flashed Elminster a brilliant smile, then took him by the hand and started toward the river bank. "Let's go back to the party and drink this misunderstanding under."

Elminster flashed Melegaunt a scowl that said their meeting was far from over, but he was too well-mannered to refuse such a request from the Lady of the Wood. He allowed himself to be passed off to a young elf maiden and led back toward the Honor Chair. Morgwais turned to the treant.

"My thanks for bringing my son to Rheitheillaethor, Turlang. Do join us."

Turlang shook his leafy crown. "That cannot be. A magic-grub followed your son and these others into the forest, and 1 must return to watch it." He lowered a bough toward Galaeron. "I want only to be certain this one is who he claims. There is a darkness in him 1 do not trust, and 1 would know if you will vouchsafe his conduct, and that of his friends."

The light faded from Morgwais's face. "A darkness, you say?"

She took Galaeron's hand, then looked past his shoulder. Her gaze grew unfocused, as it would during the Reverie, and a single furrow appeared in her unblemished brow. She remained that way for several moments, then finally opened her eyes and nodded.

"It's true. You seem lost to me, child. It is as though you are…" She started to look away as though embarrassed, then hesitated and forced herself to look back. "It feels as though are asleep." The comment struck Galaeron like a blow, and he realized with a start that he did not feel the other elves either. The absence had seemed normal enough during his travels with the humans-especially given his trouble falling into the Reverie-but he should have sensed other elves as they traveled deeper into the High Forest. Instead, there had been nothing-no sense of welcome, no warmth, no safety. He had felt nothing-nothing but the anger and jealousy he had experienced upon seeing his mother on Elminster's lap.

Galaeron forced himself to meet his mother's gaze. "I have been through some trying times, and it may be that even I shouldn't trust myself." He gestured to Melegaunt and Vala and added, "But I do know I can trust these humans."

Morgwais studied the humans for several moments, her gaze lingering on Vala longer than on Melegaunt, then she finally cracked a melancholy smile and stepped toward Vala.

"Vala," said Vala, extending her hand. "Vala Thorsdotter." Unfamiliar with human customs, Morgwais stared in confusion at the out-thrust arm. "You will watch after Galaeron?"

Vala glanced briefly at Melegaunt, then gave a solemn nod. "That promise I have already made."

Morgwais shrugged and turned to Turlang. "I am Galaeron's mother." She glanced at Vala, then her smile broadened, and she said, "Of course, I will vouchsafe their conduct!"

She took Vala's hand and thrust it into Galaeron's, and that was when a svelte Wood elf in a brown Tomb Guard cloak pushed through the crowd. She had a familiar cupid's bow smile and a pair of doe-brown eyes Galaeron would have recognized through a keyhole. The instant she stepped to Morgwais's side, her gaze dropped to the hands clasped between Galaeron and Vala. T-Takari!" Galaeron gasped.

Takari's gaze rose, the light already fading from her eyes. Her face remained hollow-cheeked and sallow from her wound, and her cloak hung more loosely than usual on her bony shoulders.

"I really shouldn't be surprised," said Takari, looking Vala up and down. She sighed dramatically, then reached past the human to pull Galaeron to her lips. "But shell have to share!"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

28 Nightal, the Year of the Unstrung Harp

Khelben had barely crested the slope before the first crack of war thunder rumbled across the frozen tussocks. Less than a mile distant, a rank of figures became visible along the moor's edge, their invisibility spells fading as they hurled sling stones and magic bolts down on Lord Ryence's elves. Khelben used thumb and forefinger to make a circle over his eye and uttered a spell. The figures resolved themselves into a couple of hundred bugbears, perhaps twenty beholders, and a dozen mind flayers. A pair of phaerimm hovered together near the center.