'We've had a few wrestling matches with Leaplow,' answered the youngest Watchman, rubbing his neck at the memory, 'and those twins who go around with him.'
'Bentnor and Cadriffle,' Sophraea supplied. 'They're my cousins.'
'That's them,' the youngest one confirmed with a wince of remembered pain.
'Cleaned up a few taverns behind your brothers and your cousins too,' added the leader of the group.
'Can't mistake a place that the Carvers have passed through,' chimed in the third.
'Ah,' Sophraea said. 'You do know my family.'
'So he's a friend' of yours?' asked the youngest Watchman, finally nodding at Gustin.
'I'm new to Waterdeep,' Gustin said, flourishing the small book that he removed from his tunic's upper pocket. 'Sophraea very kindly offered to show me some of the antiquities of this graveyard. I'm very interested in antiquities, being in possession of a very fine but unusual statue…'
His story trailed off after a sharp poke from Sophraea.
'Well, isn't he the brave one,' whispered one Watchman to his companion. 'At least they won't have to take him far to do a walk through the graveyard.'
'I'm sorry?' said Gustin.
'Ignore them,' said Sophraea, not wanting to go any further into that discussion.
'Hoi!' yelled one of the forgotten workmen. 'You lot coming with us or staying here to chitchat with the skirt?'
The oldest Watchman turned and directed a stern frown at the men waiting for them. 'Get on with your business. We'll be right behind you.'
'Should they be doing that?' asked Sophraea, watching the workmen stagger away with the memorial urn.
'They have permission,' said the oldest Watchman. He gave a curt order to the younger men who seemed to be inclined to stay and chat with Gustin about the girl that was standing next to him and her ridiculously large number of male relatives. The two younger watchmen gave Gustin sympathetic punches on the shoulder as they bid him farewell.
'But should they be doing that?' Sophraea repeated to their retreating backs. A chill breeze touched her cheek. Her sense of direction in the City of the Dead seemed to swell and expand, almost as if she could see the whole City from above. In that odd vision, the pools of shadow that marked the doorways into ancient tombs seemed blacker than ever before. There was a disapproving stillness, an echo of emptiness that muffled her hearing. And something more, a cold and growing anger that was spreading through the City, a fury barely contained, that burned like ice laid across her fast beating heart.
'Sophraea!' Gustin shook her shoulder lightly. 'Sophraea, what's wrong?'
With a start, the girl came back to herself. 'I don't know,' she told him. 'But it doesn't feel right here. It feels strange. Spooky.'
'It is a graveyard,' the young wizard pointed out. 'It's the famous City of the Dead. Isn't it supposed to be haunted?'
'But it's never felt like that to me! Not to any Carver.'
'Felt like what?'
'Threatening.'
But she couldn't explain it better and finally gave up trying. Instead she led Gustin to the open doorway of the Vesham tomb. Inside, the niches, where the urns and caskets should have been displayed, were swept clean.
Outside, clear tracks in the mud showed the workmen had visited both tombs repeatedly. Equally solid bootprints on the edges of the main path bore witness to the City Watch's careful observation of the work.
But it took Sophraea two more circuits of the plot, trailed by the curious Gustin, to realize where she truly was.
'This is where Rampage Stunk plans to build his monument,' said Sophraea slowly, staring at the two small tombs sitting close together.
'How do you know?' asked Gustin.
She pointed at the marker stakes surrounding both of the little tombs. 'That's the shape of his colonnade. He's been talking about it forever with my father.'
Gustin murmured some words that Sophraea didn't understand and sprinkled a little powder on the ground between the two tombs. The ground fizzled and sparked wherever the powder had landed.
'Somebody has been letting off spells close by,' stated the wizard.
'Can you tell what they were doing?'
He shook his head. 'My ritual just shows magic happened here. It might be something that happened a long time ago or just yesterday. And I can't tell what type of spell it was.'
Further examination of the earth around the tombs showed some disturbance, odd bumps in the lawn nearest the little brick-and-mortar tomb.
'But I can make some guesses,' said Gustin after getting on his hands and knees in the wet dirt. 'This looks like something happened underneath here.'
'Underneath?' Sophraea stared at the ground between her boots. In her head, she was paging through the family ledger, trying to remember what tunnels would run under this section of the City of the Dead.
'A magical explosion?' speculated the lanky wizard. He stood up and beat the mud off his knees. 'The ground was definitely pushed up from below.'
'Rodents? Lizards?' Briarsting ventured. 'Anything can be digging down there.'
'No,' said Sophraea, turning about to take a hard look at the close packed tombs on every side. 'Not here. Spells would have been laid down when these tombs were built to keep out any vermin.'
'Well, then,' said Gustin, 'that's the magic that my spell detected.'
'No,' Sophraea said with a shiver, remembering the icy anger she felt near the empty tomb, 'I think you were right the first time. Something is happening. Something new. Something underground.'
With one final pat on the topiary dragon's nose, Sophraea and Gustin took their leave of Briarsting. The thorn promised to come to the Dead End gate if he heard or saw any more unusual activity in the City.
'It will be good to be on patrol again,' the little man said to Sophraea. 'It gets a bit lonely out here in the winter with only the Walking Corpse wandering through on occasion.'
'Lord Adarbrent?' asked Sophraea, remembering the last time that the old nobleman disappeared down the pathways in the City of the Dead.
'He's got family close by,' said Briarsting. 'Big mausoleum, the Adarbrents have.'
'Green marble, iron door, two memorial urns in the shape of sailing ships flanking the entrance, and the name picked out in gold leaf above, ' said Sophraea, without even thinking.
'Bit unnerving how the Carvers all do that,' remarked Briarsting to Gustin. The wizard nodded.
'Lord Adarbrent has been visiting us for years,' said Sophraea. 'He and my father discuss it all the time. One of the urns cracked during a heavy freeze and we replaced it. Lord Adarbrent wanted it to match the broken one exactly. He wants everything to always look exactly as it did.'
'Not a man fond of change?' ventured Gustin as they walked away.
'No,' said Sophraea, with a last wave to Briarsting and the topiary dragon. 'He's very famous for his resistance to change. Lord Adarbrent is always marching around the city and muttering at people about the history and the importance of this bit of Waterdeep or that bit. Or telling them that there are forces out to change Waterdeep all together.'
'Sounds like an absolute terror.'
'Oh no,' argued Sophraea. 'He's always been very kind to me. When he notices that I'm there. Just, well, changes upset him.'
As they walked along the path toward the Coffinmarch gate, Gustin kept up a steady stream of chatter, asking Sophraea about the nobles of Waterdeep. She barely heard him, she was so lost in her thoughts. Could someone really be rash enough to raise the dead with magic? For that was what she was sure she had felt. Not the usual comfortable wandering of one or two ambulatory spirits. No, this was something darker, angrier, rousing even chose dead who wanted to be left alone.
But she didn't know exactly what was going on. She wanted to talk to her family but she did not know what to tell them. That she stood in the middle of the City of the Dead at the start of winter and felt cold? They'd pat her
