amorous nobles of Mountainside. The only others on the stairs were merchants carting goods in packs, heading up to the High Market to sell their wares. No one gave the party much notice, focused as they were on simply keeping their balance and their wind while trudging up the steps with their heavy packs.
The party continued to the Dragon's Spout, the informal name for the second landing, at which there was a magically maintained fountain with clear, fresh water. The stone fountain-a carved dragon's head-once topped the Dragontower of Maaril, but that edifice had rocketed skyward during the Spellplague and exploded high over the city. The only piece to have survived was the dragon's head, which was put to use at this fountain.
Osco whispered to Vharem, 'Hey, V, is this going too easily or is it just me?'
'No, it's not just you,' Vharem said, his hand resting on his sword hilt, as he looked around at all those approaching them.
The group paused to drink at the fountain, and Renaer passed Vajra over to Vharem to stretch out his atms and lean over for a drink. With the group clustered around the fountain, Osco snapped to attention and hopped up onto the fountain's surrounding ledge. 'Something's wrong.'
'What makes you say that?' Meloon asked.
'It just got really quiet, and those two people on the far side of the fountain haven't stopped talking.' He unfurled a whip at his belt and snapped it out into mid-air-and suddenly the air shivered around them.
Within a bteath of Osco's whip-snap, nine young wizards wearing the gray robes of the Watchful Order surrounded him and his friends against the fountain.
'How the gods did he know?' A young mage yelled as he came into sight.
His companion lurched over, howling and holding his face. He glared at Osco, the welt on his cheek fresh and bleeding. 'You'll pay for that, halfling.'
All nine of the gray-robes held wands, aimed at Laraelra and her friends.
CHAPTER 13
Regrets? I haven't wasted my time or energy on them for seventy winters, and I'll not start now. All I do lament are missed opportunities, ignorant fools, absentfriends, and good wine spilled.
11 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
It shocked Eiruk Weskur that these accused murderers traveled so brazenly with an injured person, but he held his wand on the large blond barbarian while Sarkap called out, 'Renaer Neverember and company, you are to come with us to answer for your crimes!'
Eiruk knew all of the gray-robes had wands to either paralyze or slow their foes down, but he didn't trust Mauron or Ulik to not have more potent magics at hand. The pair of them were fanatic followers of Guildsenior Naomal, and they followed his every command. While Eiruk respected the wizard, he could not put his finger on why he felt increasingly nervous around him.
Some of the younger apprentices seemed scared even while leveling wands at Renaer and his friends, but the Naomal-loyalists seemed happy to provoke a confrontation, including Sarkap.
'Put down your weapons and throw yourself on our mercy!' Sarkap said.
Eiruk hated working with these bullies, but his tutors tasked him with cloaking them with illusions to take their targets unawares. Eiruk just wanted answers. He'd only heard about the murder of
Vajra that morning and was still numb. She'd been his friend-and now she could never be more than that.
Renaer held up his hands and said, 'As you can see, we can't be guilty of someone's murder-'
'Silence!' Ulik yelled. 'Riarlemn!' His wand fired a blue-gray beam, but Renaer leaped forward and down, avoiding it, and it struck the dragon's head fountain to no effect.
Renaer answered the attack with a dagger, stopping his roll forward but letting the dagger fly as he did so. The ornate hilt of Renaer's dagger stuck out of Ulik's arm, his blood staining the sleeve, and the young man howled as if mortally wounded.
Eiruk watched in horror as his companions unleashed spell-missiles on every member of the party, including the wounded woman. Her hood fell back as she grunted in pain from the missiles her bearer failed to shield her from. Eiruk's jaw dropped. It was Vajra-alive!
His head and heart revolted. Eiruk been ordered to capture her murderers, but here the supposed murderers were protecting her.
'Stop!' Eiruk yelled, but few were listening. They were all trained in the Art, but most had never been in a magical fight. Thus, the apprentices panicked or, like the bullies Mauron and Sarkap, took advantage of the situation to abuse others. Luckily, those brutes focused on those who fought back, not the helpless like Vajra.
Eiruk heard Renaer yell for them to stop, but no coolet heads heard him. Laraelra Harsard unleashed a well- aimed blast of colors that knocked out Mauron and blinded two others, but Raman paralyzed her with a bolt from his wand. Renaer's friend Vharem Kuthcutter, who had set Vajra behind the fountain, slashed an angry wound across Ulik's arm, making him drop his wand. The bully of the third-year dormitories fainted at the sight of more of his own blood. The halfling wielded his whip effectively and managed to trip Gharill, bouncing the wizard's head off the cobbles.
Despite surprise and their better numbers, some younger Watchful Order apprentices panicked, running from the fight when challenged with a blade. The few who remained either missed or aimed only at the biggest target- the blond man named Meloon. However, Eiruk saw the blond man step in front of spells and heard him yell, 'Protect Vajra!'
That's when Eiruk made his choice. He focused on the remaining three Watchful Order attackers. He wove his spell carefully, and two of his compatriots fell asleep, slumping to the ground, while the third whirled around to face Eiruk in disbelief.
'Traitor!' Sarkap screamed. 'Ten-Rings will kill you!' His attention on Eiruk, Sarkap didn't even see the halfling's whip lash out, wrap around his leg, and pull that leg out from under him. All he saw were the cobblestones rushing up'at him to send him to oblivion. Eiruk smiled grimly when he saw two broken teeth fly out of Sarkap's mouth.
Renaer sighed and said, 'Thanks, friend,' though Vharem, Meloon, and Laraelra all glared at Eiruk with suspicion.
'I did this for Vajra,' Eiruk said. 'They said you killed her, but I saw-is she all right?'
'She will be, if we can get her to-' Laraelra said
But Vharem interrupted her. 'We're not murderers. Why not call off your dogs?'
'I tried, but…' Eiruk noticed that some of the wizards were stirring, so he said, 'Let's go. We'll talk on the way!'
Renaer nodded and picked up Vajra while Meloon unhooked a massive axe from his back, its edges glistening with blue energy. The axe reminded Eiruk of something, but he didn't have time to think yet.
Once the others were past him and down the stairs to the next landing, Eiruk lay a spell down to slow pursuit-he savored the irony of using it to help, not hinder, Renaer and his friends. As he turned to follow the others, Eiruk found Vharem sticking close to him, a naked blade in his hand. 'Give me one reason, wizard, and I'll hurt you worse than your men hurt my friends.'
'All I care about is her safety,' Eiruk said, pointing at Vajra. 'If that's your goal, we're on the same side.'
Yells dtew Vharem and Eiruk's attention behind them on the stairs. Two apprentices had reached the steps where Eiruk's spell lay, and both slipped as if grease coated the steps. Both fell off the stairs and rolled a bit down the slope of the mountain. Vharem smirked slightly and lowered the point of his blade, but Eiruk knew it would take more to gain the man's friendship.
The last wizard on that patrol, a fourth-year named Phalan, lit up the morning sky overhead with green fire.
