eyes freezing him in place. She broke eye contact first and stared east, down the lone dirt path. She looked again at Meloon, then directed her eyes west, down toward the deepwater harbor. Meloon could see a log palisade on the mountain spur where Castle Waterdeep would be, and he could see the Spires of Morning, recognizable as the great temple to Amaunator, even though it was still being built.
Meloon asked, 'Am I fallen into yesterday? Is this Waterdeep in the past?'
'Will you fight?' the blue-eyed warrior asked. Meloon nodded. 'If the cause is just.'
'Or the pay is right?' She cocked an eyebrow at the sellsword's common phrase.
Meloon shook his head. 'Take only honest pay from honest folk, or you repay coin with guilt.'
The woman smiled, then tossed a double-bladed axe to him. 'If the Black Claws descend upon us, how do we protect the city?' She stared to the east, a cloud of dust rising beyond the trees.
Meloon looked east, then west toward the temple and further down the plateau at what he knew as Dock Watd and she knew as the city. He saw the limited trails, the heavier forest to the northwest, and the cliffs to the east.
'The walls protect the docks and the southern city?' Meloon asked. She nodded, and Meloon pointed with the axe at the trees along the trail. 'I'd use my axe to fell the trees and block the trail. That forces any attackers into smaller units among the trees or around the whole plateau to attack along the roads to the south. Either way buys you more time for more defenses-or more ways to pick off. the enemies. If you have to, set fire to the undergrowth-the smoke will slow them further, and it shouldn't harm the trees much.'
The woman smiled and brought her shield up-a serpentine dragon wrapping vertically around a sword resting point down on a green field.
Meloon's eyes went wide, and he said, 'Did you copy that from my memory?'
The woman's face became unreadable, as she shook her head. 'This is my family's crest. Why?'
Meloon pulled his shirt open to reveal the same emblem-the dragon over the sword-tattooed over his heart and beneath a hairy chest. 'It's my family's mark of old. The Wardragons of Loudwater. I was told many Wardragons originally settled Waterdeep, but I'd found none in two years in the city.'
The woman dismounted and grasped Meloon by the shoulders. 'You found me. You are not only worthy, you are kin. Know me as Lauroun, once-warlord of this place. Now, together, we can both be her defenders.' She grasped his hand around the axe and brought them both up, her eyes framed above the blade. The axe burst into blue flames that matched her eyes.
Meloon's eyes focused on what he held in his hand. The runes on the axe head flashed three times, and the entire axe flared with blue flames. Meloon whispered, repeating the voice he heard in his head, 'May the weapon be as worthy as its wieldet, its wielder as worthy as the weapon…'
Meloon blinked and saw the last of the flames wink out as his normal eyesight returned. He came out of the room carrying Azuredge.
Vajra smiled a tight, thin smile, and said, 'Good. Wield her well, warrior.' She looked back at the cat-man. 'When dawn breaks, the magic that created and tied you here should open. We need to redirect it, pulling us home.' She reached up with a glowing hand and rested it on his cheek. The Nameless Haunt snarled in pain as she sent magic into his head. She muttered, 'I'm sorry for it all,' and collapsed into the cat-man's atms.
'We are too, Blackstaff.' The Nameless stood and carried her out onto the balcony overlooking the forest. The light of dawn lit the eastern horizon. From their high vantage point in the tallest trees of the forest, everyone could see the distant slopes of Mount Waterdeep and the city huddled around it a few miles to the west.
The Nameless Haunt settled Vajra into Renaer's arms and began weaving a complex spell. He seemed to pull more and more light from the horizon and onto the balcony with them. After a few moments, he turned and said, 'Stand here and face the mountain. I'll send you home.'
'Thank you for everything,' Renaer said. 'If there's anything-'
'Not for us,' the Haunt said. 'Get her to her tower. She needs to touch the true Blackstaff soon. Then all may be better.' He looked at them all, then shot a quick look at the eastern horizon and ruffled his wings. 'Go now… to where we became. Help her and our city. Tell her we love her always. And be her friend, for a Blackstaffs life is lonely too.'
The Nameless Haunt's wings spread full, scattering magic all around and over the group, his black feathers edged and glistening with red-gold energy.
Vajra stirred in Renaer's arms and said, 'Farewell, love.' Tears fell from her hazel eyes and streamed down her cheeks.
The sparkles swirled into a ring of light that settled around and over the six of them. Renaer watched as the air around them grew hazy. The haze shimmered, then a flare of light on its eastern face lit up the entire globe. The silver ring expanded from their feet, rising up around them and above their heads. Renaer closed his eyes and felt his stomach flip, and he had a brief sensation of flight again.
When he opened his eyes, he stood in a small fenced garden, winter bare and frost-rimed. Before him were not the trees of the Pellamcopse but the seaward slopes of Mount Waterdeep. Night still reigned in the skies overhead, but the first rays of dawn lanced beneath the heavy clouds that drifted above from the western sky. What bothered Renaer more was the fact that he stood alongside Osco, but the others had disappeared.
CHAPTER 13
11 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
Renaet did not often come to this area of Mountainside, but he knew the cobblestone toad he faced was Mandarthen Lane because of the bright blue doors on every building and the white-stone dies on the roofs. He also knew most folk, who disliked the abusive Mandarth noble clan and its whaling-derived riches, referred to it as the 'Ambergrislide.' Below them, Osco and Renaet could see the morning shift change of the Watch on the west wall, as lights bobbed along the length of the walls, new watchmen climbing the tower stairs with torches.
Osco smacked Renaer behind his knees, causing him to fall and land hard on his back. Before he could yell at the hin, the halfling's hairy hand covered his mouth, and Osco's face came close with his index finget at his mouth, signaling quiet. Renaer relaxed, but fought the urge to cough, as a foot patrol of Watchmen wandered past them. They were close enough that Renaer and Osco overheard snatches of conversation.
'— said there's an extra bonus in our pay if we can catch them without the Watchful Order's interference!'
'You ever had to chase him? Renaer Neverember's a greased fish that slips the net every time.'
'When it don't matter, maybe. Now, with the murders in Ravencourt, he'll be caught. And he's got friends. They'll be easily enough caught, and then-'
'What? He'll come for them? Anyone who'll do what he did to the Blackstaffs heir isn't worried about retribution and hardly cares what happens to others!'
A third rougher voice growled at the chattering Watchmen. 'Less jabber, more seeking, fools!'
'They'd stand out too easily up here,' the first voice said. 'There's no one awake and on the streets but a few servants heading downslope to fetch mornfeast for their masters.'
Renaer could now make out the Watch patrol passing directly in front of their position on the other side of the iron-rail fence. If they looked even an arm span in their direction…
In the distance, Renaer heard some commotion, — and Osco whispered, 'Somethin's disturbed some dogs.'
A few breaths later, the shadowed pack of four Watchmen started, as a horn sounded a few streets over.
'Let's see where our fellows need our help!' said one of the Watchmen.
