Ghost or not, Anusha wondered about Yeva's strange coloration and features. The woman was a member of no race she'd ever seen or even heard about.
She decided not to pursue either question. Instead, she asked, 'Xxiphu-what is that? Is it where we stand?'
The woman gave a curt nod. 'Xxiphu is a city of primeval aboleths. So I have learned, to my despair. I did not seek it, but those I hunted tricked me and lured me here. Where my mind was caught.' The woman's fists clenched. 'And now I am nothing but a figment.' Her eyes slicked with a new surge of moisture.
'More than a figment, unless I'm imagining you,' Anusha said, smiling.
The woman studied Anusha and said, 'Perhaps you do but imagine me. If you hadn't reinforced me somehow, I'd be gone. I felt my mind slipping away, dissolving.'
'You said that before. How can you be sure?'
Yeva tilted her head. 'I have abilities too, Anusha. Potent ones, if not suited to my present predicament. I sense a burning power in you, despite your lack of physical form. You are not a memory like me. More like a… construct of psionic power. A thread of your will keeps me here.'
Anusha shook her head, not really understanding the woman. 'You have abilities? What sort? Can they help us to escape this place? My body lies on the surface.'
The woman looked out into the surrounding darkness, toward the ice face, then back at Anusha. She considered for a long while, saying nothing. Finally, she shrugged. 'Even though reason suggests our attempts shall fail, we should try. I am not the sort who gives up my quest while reasonable hope remains. I don't know what my fate will be if we do win free. Nor do I know how many years have passed since I was trapped. But I'll never know if I do nothing.'
'Can your abilities help us escape?' Anusha asked again.
Yeva produced a short bark of laughter. 'My talents would be useful should any creature threaten our insubstantial selves. I suppose in this terrible place there might be such creatures. Aboleths can blast the minds of their foes or enslave them.' Anusha didn't like the sound of that. She'd been hurt while dreamwalking once before.
Yeva continued, 'Let us explore. Perhaps the inhabitants of this city hibernate like their lord, the Eldest. We shall search for a door and try to exit. Unless things are changed, we are deep in the earth, in the bottommost cellars and roots of the Underdark. Perhaps some tunnels to higher caverns can be found.'
Anusha said, 'Yes, let's try! Though I hope if I walk too far, I won't be pulled back here.'
'Pulled back here? Is there some reason to believe you might be?'
'No, I… well, yes. There is that concern. My dream form used to be bound to my body. I could only move so far from it before I was pulled back into wakefulness. Now, my body is far away, much farther than my old limit.
When I try to wake up, I flicker and remain in this chamber of ice…'
'So?'
'So, I might have a new focus. Maybe this very sphere of ice.'
Yeva said, 'For your sake, I hope you're wrong. Otherwise, you will probably never escape. Then it will only be a matter of time before you go insane, or the Eldest's condensed and frozen thoughts reabsorb you.'
'Oh.'
Yeva gave a grim chuckle and gestured into the darkness. 'This way?'
'Sure.'
CHAPTER SIX
The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Veltalar, Aglarond
Seagulls hung on invisible thermals over the alley. Their beaks jerked left and right as they scanned every foot of the squalid space for scraps. Bird cries echoed off the clapboards. Broken furnishings, heaped garbage, and less identifiable waste crowded the narrow lane. The stink was overpowering.
Raidon guessed the odor was composed of rotting fish, dead rats, and-overwhelmingly-urine.
The smell threatened to ruin his concentration. His Sign had drawn him to Veltalar, but now it was giving him problems.
A breeze managed to squeeze between the buildings to ruffle his hair, easing the rank smell. He breathed in more deeply while the opportunity presented itself. The old storehouses were too far from the new port to enjoy a consistent sea breeze.
'Still nothing?' thoster asked from behind Raidon.
Raidon glanced back. The captain and Seren walked single file after the monk, trusting him to lead them to their quarry.
Raidon said, 'Nothing. I'll let you know if that changes. No need to keep inquiring.'
Seren chuckled. Thoster nodded, then mopped his brow.
The Cerulean Sign's direction had dispersed as they'd drawn near the Aglarondan port. The Dreamheart was in the city, that was clear, but the relic's power was too overwhelming this close. The Sign was too inundated with the Dreamheart's aberrant influence to get a precise fix.
'Well, how about your directions-sure you ain't lost?' Thoster asked. 'I doubt Japheth's holed up out here. It's a sty.'
'The man I spoke with last night-'
Seren interrupted, 'He was a thief. He tried to steal my wand! I wish you'd let me deal with him.'
Raidon said, 'My hard-won contact, who we should not disable until we're certain we no longer require his services, said a man in a dark cape took control of a gang of thieves tough enough to intimidate the locals. The man's description matches Japheth.'
'What was the gang called again?' asked Thoster. The captain watched the gulls overhead.
'The Razorhides.'
Seren said, 'I have no doubt it's Japheth. The warlock was moody, dependent on traveler's dust, and beholden to Behroun Marhana. Just the sort who'd take up with a band of ragtag thieves.'
'And he's had the Dreamheart for tendays,' said Raidon. 'Who knows how much it's further corrupted him? If providence favors us, the newest Razorhide will prove to be our quarry.'
'Well, let's be on with it,' groused Thoster, still watching the antics of the birds. 'I ain't broke last night's fast yet, you rushed us off the ship so early.'
The trio came to a place where the alley widened. A kid lounged on a terrace above, watching the same gulls as the pirate captain. The dirt-smeared sentry was no more than ten or twelve years old, Raidon judged. A small part of him suspected he should feel sad to see the lot life had handed the child. The monk raised his hand, a signal for Thoster and Seren to pause. The kid glanced down and saw Raidon in the alley mouth.
'Well met,' Raidon ventured, his voice pitched low, but loud enough for the child to hear. 'I have a potentially valuable proposition for you. Do you know someone called-'
The boy's shrill whistle echoed down the alley. He ducked off the balcony through a doorway behind him.
'You handled that well,' said Thoster.
Raidon shrugged and said, 'Follow me.' He charged the scarred wooden door below the balcony. The area in front of it was conspicuously free of garbage. Raidon transferred the momentum of his dash into a simple front kick. His heel smashed the reinforced door from its iron hinges.
Yells of surprise and alarm issued from somewhere inside. The monk ducked into the opening. He stood in a halllike vestibule that smelled of damp, soot, and salt. Another set of doors blocked the way, but these were guarded.
Vaguely humanoid, the guardian seemed to be an animated accumulation of dockside debris-tattered sails, fish teeth, matted seaweed, gull feathers, and dirt. It wore a crown of smashed shells and a cloak of sea mist. Its eyes were smoothed stones, and its hands were rusted nails from shipwrecks.
The creature didn't move. It intoned, 'Leave, intruder, or see your organs pulled from your flesh moments
