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By the time Elminster returned, she and Kelemvor were ready to go. After accepting Blackstaff’s dagger from the sage, Midnight led the way into the courtyard, a queasy feeling of dread settling in her stomach. Her magic was pulling her south and a little east, the same way a lodestone pulled toward north. She started down Swords Street, brushing past hundreds of people rushing in the opposite direction.

“We’re going toward the battle,” Kelemvor observed, elbowing a path through the mass of refugees. In the distance, columns of smoke rose over the city.

They had not walked more than two hundred feet before Midnight sensed the tablet was now more to the east than the south. She turned onto Keltarn Street and walked down a short block, to where it joined the Street of Silks.

“That’s strange,” she said, pausing at the intersection. “It’s to our north now.”

The mage led her friends up the Street of Silks into another throng of refugees. She feared her magic had become unreliable. Still, the sensation of being pulled toward the tablet was clear and strong, so she continued forward.

Two hundred feet later, Midnight turned west. “The tablet’s over there.” She pointed across a solid block of buildings.

“This way, then,” Kelemvor said, running up the Street of Silks to where Tharleon Street joined it. He turned west down the narrow alley, then waited for Midnight and Elminster to catch up.

“It’s straight ahead,” Midnight said.

They walked down the street until it reached Swords Street again. Blackstaff’s tower stood across the avenue and to the right.

“We’ve made a circle!” Kelemvor observed.

“Perhaps I located the wrong tablet,” Midnight said meekly, trying to sort through the confusion in her mind.

“I don’t think so,” Elminster grumbled. He pointed across the road and to the north, at a figure in a black robe. The man carried saddlebags over his shoulder. He was walking straight toward Blackstaff’s tower, violently pushing aside anyone unfortunate enough to get in his way.

“Myrkul!” Midnight cried.

“Yes,” Elminster replied. “He’s come for the other tablet.”

Kelemvor drew his sword. “And he doesn’t know we’re behind him.” The warrior started across the road.

So she could summon another incantation if needed, Midnight stopped concentrating on the tablet. The three allies crossed the street and moved up behind Myrkul, finally getting a clear shot at his back just as he reached the tower.

Midnight summoned a lightning bolt. “Cover your eyes,” she warned.

The instant Kelemvor and Elminster obeyed, the mage pointed at Myrkul’s back and uttered the words to the incantation. A loud crackle filled the air. A dozen blue streaks leaped off Midnight’s finger and shot into Swords Street, striking buildings and people. Tiny blasts flared wherever the bolts touched, gouging small craters in walls and burning fist-sized holes into bodies.

Myrkul stopped at the tower’s entrance and turned around. He saw Midnight, flanked by Elminster and Kelemvor, staring in horror at the results of her botched incantation. The Lord of the Dead had not expected to find the trio outside the tower, but it did not concern him. He had ways of occupying them while he retrieved the tablet.

Myrkul gestured at the sewer entrance behind Midnight, then entered the tower. A cry of alarm spread up the street. Kelemvor turned in time to see several soggy corpses climb out of the sewer. They wore the same striped robes of the undead that had stolen the tablet at Dragonspear Castle. The skin on their faces was wrinkled and decaying, and their expressions were dull and lethargic.

“Zombies!” the warrior gasped.

“Ignore them!” the ancient wizard yelled. “Into the tower.”

Kelemvor and Elminster ran for the tower. Behind them, they dragged Midnight, who was still dazed and anguished by the destruction her spell had caused. When they reached the tower, Myrkul was nowhere in sight, though the rank odor of sewage still hung in the air.

“Upstairs!” Elminster said. “In the library!”

Kelemvor led the way up the spiraling staircase, advancing slowly and cautiously. Midnight followed, while Elminster came last. The first zombie entered the tower just as the ancient sage stepped onto the stairs.

On the second floor, Elminster told the mage and the warrior to stop outside a closed door. “The tablet’s in there—which means Myrkul is, too,” he explained.

“We can’t use magic,” Midnight whispered. “I’ve already hurt too many people.”

“Nonsense,” Elminster growled. “If we don’t stop Myrkul, the citizens of Waterdeep will be dead anyway.”

“Elminster’s right. Waterdeep’s a battlefield now,” Kelemvor said. “Innocent people are going to die no matter what. The only thing we can do—must do—is win the battle.”

The first zombie appeared around the bend in the staircase. Elminster calmly turned and touched one of the stone stairs, then whispered a complicated chant. Kelemvor moved to meet the advancing zombie, but a stone wall sprang up where the sage had touched the stairs.

“It worked,” Elminster sighed. He turned toward the door. “Be ye ready, Midnight?”

She nodded, but did not speak.

Elminster looked at Kelemvor, and the warrior kicked the door open. Midnight stepped into the room, searching for the dark-robed figure they had seen in the streets.

“There’s nobody in here!” she reported.

Kelemvor and Elminster peered over her shoulder. The library was, indeed, deserted. One bookshelf had been tipped over, revealing a section of blank stone wall.

Elminster cursed, then said, “He’s already got our tablet!”

“There’s only one place he could have gone,” Kelemvor yelled.

“Up!” Elminster confirmed. “Quickly, before he escapes.”

They started up the stairs, pausing to look into the rooms on each floor.

Meanwhile, Myrkul slipped the second tablet into the other side of the saddlebags. Then he slung the bags over his shoulder and stepped out of Blackstaff’s vault into the library.

“Remarkable,” he said, walking over to the stairway and examining Elminster’s wall. “They are hunting me!” He thought for a moment, then added, “We can’t have mortals trying to destroy me, can we?”

Myrkul cast a passwall spell at the stone barrier blocking the stairway. A rectangular section of stone separated itself and began hopping down the stairs as though it were alive.

Myrkul watched the stone crush one of his zombies, then disappear around the bend in the staircase. His spell’s misfire did not concern the Lord of the Dead. He would soon have plenty of undead to call in Waterdeep.

“Up the stairs!” Myrkul said. “Kill the woman and her friends. They’ve caused me too much trouble already.”

As the zombies shuffled past, Myrkul contemplated his next move. He would return to the Pool of Loss to call the spirits of the dead. After harvesting the energy of their souls, he would go to the Celestial Stairway. With luck, Helm would let him pass, for he now possessed both tablets. Then the Lord of the Dead would destroy Ao. Everything was again proceeding according to plan.

On the flat roof atop Blackstaff’s tower, Kelemvor could not believe Myrkul had escaped so easily. “Where is he?” he roared.

Elminster turned to Midnight. “You can’t trace the tablet anymore?”

Midnight tried to reactivate her locate object magic, but it was gone. “I can redo the incantation, but it’ll take a minute,” she replied.

“We don’t have time. Let’s go,” Kelemvor said, rushing back down the stairs. Midnight and Elminster followed.