Laeral pushed her head up to confirm her bearings. The voice was weaker now, having faded to a whimper, but it was also closer-just beyond a willow brake. Fearful of making any noise that would betray her approach, she ducked beneath the surface to circumvent the thicket underwater.
As she rounded the corner, three concussions pulsed down through the water, nearly rupturing her eardrums and jolting her so hard that the last air left her lungs. She pushed off the mucky bottom and launched herself into the air with a flying spell, her fingertips crackling with a silvery ball of her most potent magic. On the other side of the willows stood a trio of murk-swaddled men, one cradling the mangled figure of a Waterdhavian warrior, the other two using black glaives to pin down the writhing remains of a spell-blasted phaerimm. The men were all the size of bugbears, with brilliant gem-colored eyes and flesh as dark as shadow. While their weapons were familiar in form and function, the ebony blades looked more like black glass than steel, and the shafts might have been wood, metal, or neither.
The tallest, a copper-eyed figure in a flowing tabard as dark as night, glanced at the silvery ball on her fingertips.
"If you are who I think you are, it really wouldn't do to throw that at us. We mean you no harm." He used his glaive to raise the phaerimm's twitching tail. 'Two more remain, but we have found ten of your men, recovered six more bodies, and have reports of four teleporting away too wounded to fight. Would that be all?"
"So it would seem." Laeral let the magic die on her fingers. "And you are?"
"Escanor Tanthul." The shadowy figure flourished his cape and bowed. "These are my brothers, Aglarel and Clariburnus."
The other two figures bowed and said in unison, "At your service, milady."
Laeral closed her open jaw and returned the gesture with a curtsy. "Laeral, Lady of Blackstaff Tower."
"Yes, we know," said Escanor. "Perhaps we should be gone from here. If you will excuse me for saying so, you seem to have bitten off a bit much even for one of Mystra's Chosen."
Laeral raised her brow. "You seem very well informed… for a Netherese."
Escanor flashed a fang-filled smile. "As do you, Milady Blackstaff. I can see that it will be a pleasure to fight at your side in the war to come."
"War?" Laeral began to grow cold at the thought of an alliance with these dark Netherese. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
"We are hardly ahead of anything," said Clariburnus. He severed the phaerimm's tail with a flick of his glaive, then tucked the barb into his belt as a trophy. "The war has begun already. Surely you do not expect the phaerimm to surrender without a fight"
"I know they will fight," said Laeral. "They have proven that already, but that does not mean-"
"Our army is already on its way, I am sure," interrupted Escanor. As he spoke, he passed a hand over the face of the wounded Waterdhavian, cloaking the man's eyes in shadow and putting him into a restful sleep. "We will try to limit the destruction to the Shaeradim, but even the Chosen must see that if we hope to defeat the phaerimm, we will need to fight-and fight together."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
1 Hammer, the Year of Wild Magic (1372 DR)
They had spent the night inside the pyramid. Galaeron had not realized that until they crawled through Aris's artistic trefoil tunnel and saw the rectangular shadows stretching across the overgrown city. He wished he had Melegaunt to look into them and read the coming day, or perhaps not With two distant phaerimm drifting toward them across the ruins, he could see for himself what the day would bring-at least the short part they were likely to survive.
There were no signs of mind flayers or eye tyrants, nor of Aris and Malik's horse. The illithids and beholders had probably fallen to Elminster or the undead at the sunken bridge. Galaeron could only hope that Aris had recognized how badly events had turned and had managed to sneak quietly away, but he rather doubted it.
"Sooner or later, they'll notice the tunnel," said Vala. She was crouched on her haunches beside Galaeron, with Jhingleshod staring over their shoulders. "We could take the Karsestone out through the river opening."
"What good would that do?" Galaeron looked along the flank of the butte, to where the waterfall poured out of the sandstone and plunged fifty feet into a pool of scarlet water. They'd only catch us out in the open."
Vala watched him carefully. "It might give you time to summon help."
"You mean Shade," said Galaeron. "I promised Melegaunt I'd wait for the princes."
"Do you think that will be possible?" asked Vala. She turned to Jhingleshod. "Would the Karsestone fit through the river passage?"
"It would be easier to go without it." The knight looked toward the interior mouth of the tunnel, where the scorched cinders of Wulgreth's corpse were already trying to coalesce into a body again. He pushed his axe back to stir the ashes, then said, "And the phaerimm might not care that you escaped." "They'd care," said Vala, rolling her eyes.
Galaeron suspected that she also understood what Jhingleshod was really saying-that without the Karsestone, they might live long enough to destroy Wulgreth's phylactery. But Galaeron did not know whether Vala also realized that they had the phylactery-that the lich had stored his life-force in the Karsestone.
Galaeron was struggling desperately with what to do after it finally dawned on Jhingleshod that the phylactery and the Karsestone were one in the same. The knight would, undoubtedly, want the stone destroyed, but Galaeron was not even sure such an artifact could be destroyed-and that was quite aside from what such a thing would mean for Evereska and Melegaunt s people. It might be possible to extract the lich's life-force from the stone, but that would take time.
When Jhingleshod did not answer her question, Vala said, "The phaerimm have been hunting us since Evereska, Jhingleshod. They aren't going to let us go now, even if we don't have the Karsestone. Can we get it out through the river passage or not?"
"If you can hold your breath so long," said Jhingleshod. "But how will that help you keep your promise to me?"
"By bringing help," said Galaeron. Realizing he had to get Jhingleshod's mind off the Karsestone or lose any chance of saving Evereska, he slipped past the iron knight and started down the tunnel. "You heard what Melegaunt said, and you saw the Twelve Princes. Don't you think a thousand citizens of Shade have a better chance of finding the phylactery than we do?"
"Perhaps so, were Melegaunt here to make them honor his word." Jhingleshod grabbed a handful of Wulgreth cinder and followed Galaeron into the silvery pool. "As it is, I have only your promise."
"Then perhaps I may be of some small use," said Malik. He sat atop of the Karsestone attending to a groaning, half-conscious Takari. "I would be happy to see to the stone's safety-" "No." Galaeron and Vala spoke simultaneously.
Malik continued unflustered. "I understand your hesitation- namely that I will give the stone to Cyric-but it would give you a chance to escape with your friend's life." He lifted Takari's head, but lowered it again when she managed a weak shake. "And a chance to keep your word to Jhingleshod and look for Wulgreth's phylactery."
"Cyric is trouble enough without a toy like this." Galaeron was beginning to believe the seraph's strange claim about being unable to lie. He pulled Takari off the stone and passed her to Vala, then motioned Malik down. "You don't want to be there." Malik slid into the water. "You have a plan?" "Perhaps." Galaeron took a piece of shadow silk from his pocket and pressed it to the side of the stone opposite Aris's tunnel, then went across the pool to the cavern wall. "It occurs to me Aris might not be the only one who can bore a tunnel."