noted that most every building was dark, the street-level shops closed and the homes above asleep beneath their brown-tiled roofs. He whispered, 'Vharem, Ravencourt!'
Vharem slowed and hooked arms with Laraelra to help her keep pace with him. Meloon turned, brandishing his axe, but Renaer shook his head. He inhaled a deep breath and let out a piercing whistle. Shouts behind them and sudden movement in the shadows from the debris- and cat-filled Shank Alley told Renaer they'd taken his bait. He launched himself and Vajra forward again, with Meloon running alongside again.
'Why'd you do that?' Meloon asked. 'We could have gotten away!'
'I've no doubt we will get away, Meloon.' Renaer said. 'We lead them on a path of my choosing. I truly doubt they are the Watch-just sellswords wearing the colot s. If they're working with that fake Blackstaff, they're up to no good.'
'And what does this Ravencourt have to do with anything?' Meloon asked as he followed Renaer's direction further up Aureenar's Arc directly toward one of the Field Ward's watch towers.
'Revenge,' Renaer said. He took a look behind to see three figures in pursuit with a fourth trailing behind. He heard the farthest one yell, 'They hurt Charrar! Get them!'
Renaer cut a sharp right turn around a whitewashed stone-walled baker's shop, hooking his way into an inner courtyard. While the surrounding buildings were all one- and two-story taverns and shops, the four larger buildings within the courtyard each stood three stories high. Atop the gables on each of them loomed stone ravens. They didn't have time to admire the architecture as they caught up with Vharem and Laraelra, who had stopped, undecided which direction to go. Renaer barreled past them with a sharp 'Follow me!' as he ran for the lone shadowtop tree at the far end.
'There's no way out there, Renaer!' Vharem said, though he followed once he heard their approaching pursuers.
Laraelra shouted out a spell, and a cone of bright colors filled the air just as the quartet of pursuers came around the corner. All of them yelled and stopped in their tracks, one of them falling senseless to the street. Laraelra broke into a run after her friends and called, 'Who's after us-the Open Lord or the Blackstaff?'
'You'll find out, lass,' the lead man growled as he shook his vision clear and raced after her.
Renaer ran to the far side of the tree, where he stopped. Meloon, Vharem, and Laraelra caught up quickly, surprised to see that Renaer had stopped again. 'Are we letting them catch up again?' Meloon asked.
'No. You and Vharem should try and clear the alley between the third and fourth buildings there.' Renaer pointed at the western buildings a moment. 'Elra, a little light here will help.'
Vharem and Meloon attacked the debris-laden midden, trying to create an exit. Laraelra sidled next to Renaer as the three remaining pursuers arrived. The three men drew swords out of their scabbards.
'See, friends?' Renaer called. 'The Watch never draws steel on unarmed foes, only rods or staves. They're our foes' hirelings, be sure.'
Laraelra's spell took effect, filling the air with blue light.
The lead pursuer responded, 'Only thing folks'U believe is what we tell-Huh?'
The thug fell silent as the outline of the black-barked tree appeared atop the trio. A low moan seemed to issue out of the tree trunk along with a rustle and crackling of nigh-dead leaves and branches. The first man ran forward, intent on Renaer, when black shadows lashed out of the tree to wrap around his sword arm and body. He yelled, and his friends stepped back-too slowly. Leaf-enshrouded black vines lashed out at them too. All three screamed and howled when the vines crushed where they gripped, but their voices grew still as three final vines descended from the tree and looped around their necks as nooses. Branches cracked and groaned as they stretched under the feet of the three, raising them high above the street. With a loud crack, the branches all broke away, leaving the three men to freefall until the nooses ended their falls with the snapping of three necks.
Laraelra watched, morbidly fascinated, as the tree's shadow seemed to shift and not resemble the tree's silhouette but a judge's gavel. She looked at Renaer, who had a grim look on his face. 'Did you know that was going to happen?' she asked.
'Yes, I expected something like that, but not nearly as dramatic,' Renaer replied. 'Guess old Magister Nharrelk gets angry if he doesn't claim any guilty souls in a century.'
'You led us under that thing, knowing it could attack us?'
Renaer turned with Vajra in his arms, locking eyes with Laraelra as he turned. 'We were always safe from the Hanging Tree of Ravencourt.'
'Why are you so certain?'
'You haven't avoided punishment for any capital crimes in the city, have you?' Renaer said. 'Those are the only ones who get judged by the Magistree.'
Vharem had watched what had happened even while working to free a passage, and his eyes were goblet- wide and staring at Renaer.
'How many times have we led a rat-scamper through here and that never happened? And why now?'
'Seven times, friend, all of them successful escapes,' Renaer said. 'As for them, they were guilty of hanging offenses. Consider it some justice against those who killed Faxhal.'
Renaer saw the slight path and kicked-over fence that allowed them to pass up and over a refuse heap. He nodded his approval and began climbing out of Ravencourt while still talking to the group.
'We must go back to Neverember Hall before too many folks question why I'm carrying someone. There's not many people about yet, but that'll change swiftly. Meloon, sling Elra and Vharem over your shoulders. That way, we're simply carrying our drunk friends home from their cups.'
Laraelra rolled her eyes and said, 'I don't think so. I can stumble home, thanks.'
Meloon lashed his axe to his belt and then reached for her. 'C'mon, Elra, it'll keep anyone from being suspicious.'
She smirked. 'Vharem's looking awful, there, Meloon. Why don't you take one arm and I'll take the other? We can walk him home, since we're both taller than he is.'
Vharem laughed as he threw his arms over the shoulders of Meloon and Laraelra. 'It's not as if this isn't closer to a typical end to a night with me and Ren!' As they walked away, Vharem muttered, 'Gods speed you to rest, Faxhal, and may the guilty swim in razor-strewn dung for their afterlives.'
The late morning sun shone brightly through the windows at the far side of the room, though the windows facing Mendever Streer remained cloaked behind heavy curtains. In the shadows on the bed, a man loomed over Vajra's prone body, his hands glowing green and white. His voice was low and his prayers were barely audible over Renaer's own as he knelt to pray in the sunlight.
'Valkur, speed his path, fill his sails, and calm his seas. Amaunator, light his way and warm his face. Tymora, grant him the luck to be at his reward before his misdeeds are counted in full. Kelemvor, judge him worthy to pass the veils. Gods above, grant my friend the happiness he found so rarely on Toril out among the stars.'
Renaer's eyes welled up, but no tears escaped until he turned his head toward the light touch on his shoulder.
Renaer looked up into the peaceful eyes of Wavetamer Garyn Raventree, whose own prayers had ended moments before. 'A good prayer, if a bit random.'
'How is she?' Renaer asked.
Garyn shrugged and said, 'I've healed her, so she's physically as strong as she can be. But mentally… I don't know. She's under the influence of some magic I've never seen. Given that she's linked to the Blackstaff, that's not surprising.'
'So why won't she wake up?'
'I asked for clarity on her cdndition, and all I know is her soul now carries twenty or more lifetimes.'
'What does that mean?'
'On that, Valkur puts me on still seas, friend.'
'Well, thank you for everything, Garyn. I'll be by within a tenday and we'll talk about my debts to you.'
'Consider this but payment for our own debts, for the young Lord Neverember has been a staunch friend of Valkur and his faithful.'
Renaer stood up, walked over to his desk, and withdrew a small purse, which he handed to Garyn. 'In that case, let me pay fot some prayers to be sung in Faxhal's name.'
'Of course. His ship will sail the stars on the waves of our prayers, friend. While he wasn't the best sailor, he was a good comrade to many of our faithful.'
