This drew a meager smile from the stone giant. "The beauty was in the dance." Though he did not speak loudly, his deep voice rolled through the trees like thunder. "It is only a small matter to capture what one sees."
Melegaunt held his finger to his lips. "Quiet, or we will be what is captured." He turned to Takari. "Unless Elminster left?"
"Have no fear of him," said Malik. "Elminster will not be waking soon."
Melegaunt's face grew alarmed. "What? You didn't do anything-"
"Me? An assassin?" scoffed Malik. "I cannot even tell a decent lie! I mean only that he is asleep in the stormlodge."
"Asleep?" Melegaunt frowned at this. "You're sure it was Elminster?"
"Of course I am sure," said Malik. "I saw him myself, tucked under his furs with two women." "Triplewild will do that to a man," chuckled Takari.
Galaeron was not quite so amused. "Elf women?" A cold anger was welling up inside him. "Which women?"
The jealousy in his voice drew a frown from Takari. "Not your mother. I saw Lady Morgwais leave for her nesting alone."
"That means nothing." The words slipped from Galaeron's mouth almost before he realized he was speaking. "She might have sneaked back."
Takari's scowl changed from disapproval to shock, but it was Melegaunt who spoke.
"Careful of that shadow, my friend." He nodded to Takari. "Perhaps we should go, if we want to lay another trail for the beholders."
"Fine by me." Takari continued to look at Galaeron. "I think Galaeron has had his fill of Rheitheillaethor."
She led them away from the river, passing close enough to the stormlodge that Galaeron could hear wet human snoring. He veered over to look inside, but felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You are doing yourself harm," said Melegaunt. "Suspicion is the food of wrath."
"If Lady Morgwais is not there, my suspicions will be allayed."
"They won't" Melegaunt released Galaeron's shoulder, leaving him free to do as he chose. "You'll doubt what you saw, or you will think that even if she wasn't there when you looked, she could have been there the night before. Doubt is the way of the shadow, and it is a powerful way indeed. Only trust can defeat it."
Melegaunt walked after the others, leaving Galaeron to his decision. "Go ahead and look," said Malik, coming up behind Galaeron. "In my experience, you cannot watch a woman too closely. They are all faithless harlots who will betray their husbands every chance they have." "And you know this how?" asked Galaeron.
"As 1 told you, by my experience," said Malik. "My own wife I always kept safely locked in my house in Calimshan, and still she betrayed me at the first opportunity."
'Truly?" Shaking his head at the strangeness of human customs, Galaeron started after the others. "Then I shall take a lesson from you."
Malik looked puzzled, but fell in at Galaeron's side. "I suppose there are things a man does not want to know about his mother."
"Fortunately, I am an elf." Though Galaeron resented the human's witless slighting of his mother, he held his tongue for fear of giving his shadow another foothold. "My mother's decisions are her own to make. She and my father have not shared a house for thirty years."
Malik nodded knowingly. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must be hard for your father to see your name besmirched in such low fashion."
"Besmirched?" Galaeron felt himself growing angry over the disgrace-and knew instantly that the ire was not his own. No elf would consider it dishonorable for a woman to follow her heart. "It is not the same with elves as humans. There was no dishonor in her decision."
'Truly? I was not aware that elves were so free with their women." Malik looked into the dark forest, muttering something about there being no honor among fools.
They passed the village boundary, where the night watchers were observing from their perches in the trees. Takari offered no explanation for their furtive departure. Inhabitants and guests of Rheitheillaethor were free to come and go as they wished, so long as they did nothing to betray the village. Nor did she or Galaeron return the waves of farewell that came their way. With humans present, it would have been unthinkable to betray the positions of the sentries.
A hundred paces beyond the village, Galaeron asked, "Didn't you have a horse, Malik?" "Her name is Kelda."
Malik opened his hand to display a set of reins, and suddenly the mare was behind him, her breath shooting white plumes over her master's shoulder. Galaeron looked back at the silvery snow and was astonished to see a long line of hoof prints alongside their own.
"I am beginning to see how you sneaked into Rheitheillaethor," said Galaeron. "Very impressive." Malik shrugged. "It is a gift of the One." The One?"
Malik pretended not to hear the question, which only raised Galaeron's curiosity to the height of suspicion. He began to imagine the little man being the agent of some powerful archwizard or merciless tyrant-or even of the phaerimm themselves-but of course that was ridiculous. Malik hardly seemed able to attend to himself and his horse, much the less the business of some powerful and nefarious master. Such suspicions could only be the work of Galaeron's shadow.
They continued in silence for some distance, then Galaeron said, "Thank you for coming back to warn us about the beholders. If we can spare Rheitheillaethor their depredations, you will have the gratitude of every elf in the High Forest."
"You must think nothing of it," said Malik. "It was no great trouble. Because you cannot see a man does not mean he is not there."
Galaeron spent a few moments sorting through the statement, then asked, "You were with us the whole time?"
"A little distance behind," said Malik. 'Talking trees have always made Kelda nervous."
Galaeron frowned. "If you were with us, then how could you know the beholders escaped Turlang?"
"I don't know they have," answered Malik, "only that they will be here soon." Galaeron grew irritated. "How do you know?"
"Because Turlang's followers did not misdirect all of our pursuers," explained Malik. "One of the beholders was a very beautiful and cunning one. It lagged behind the rest and entered the wood a little north of the others and found, er-" He seemed to struggle with the words, then said, Truly, the thing was a genius! I did not see it until it was on me, staring at me with all those wonderful eyes." Galaeron had a sinking feeling. "How did you escape?"
"I, uh… Kelda is very…" Malik struggled to recall, then finally gave up and shrugged. "Why is that important? All that matters is I am here to warn you."
The qualmish feeling in Galaeron's stomach changed to fear, and he felt his hands curl into fists. "And what happened to the beholder? The one with the wonderful eyes?"
"It went after the others, 1 think. It wouldn't have been safe for it to go after you alone."
The grinding of his own teeth filled Galaeron's ears. "And how did you mark our trail?"
"What?" Malik's hand slipped inside his cloak, no doubt reaching for a hidden dagger. "You accuse me of betraying you?"
"Of course not." Certain that the anger he felt was as much his shadow's as his own, Galaeron reminded himself of how the beholder had beguiled Aris in Thousand Faces. Even if Malik had laid a trail, he was not to blame for his actions. "But why do you think the beholder let you go?"
"I see what you are thinking." Malik slipped a hand under his turban to scratch at something on his brow. "I am not that big a fool. Beholders are certainly cunning and handsome creatures, but I am a man of great will and stronger mind. 1 could never be tricked by one." "Oh, never."
As Galaeron spoke, he waved his hand across Malik's face, and taking care not to use Melegaunt's coldmagic, started the incantation of a magic-dismissing spell.
"Murdering sorcerer!" Malik's hand dropped from his turban into his cloak and came out with a curved dagger. "Hold your tongue!"