Sitting in a corner of what Liet had taken to calling the Forge of the Seven Stars, Twilight blew out a long, troubled sigh. Liet had called this a smithy, though there was no pit for fire or water. Neither of these oversights surprised Twilight. If she had seen them-meaning the owner hadn't used magic-that would have surprised her.
Netheril.
That they were inside one of the fallen cities of that mighty age was something Twilight could accept. That the city's mythallar still functioned, however-at least partly-unnerved her deeply.
The others hadn't seen the significance until Twilight explained it. Aside from its own essence, she had sensed three types of magic emanating from the mythallar-conjuration, enchantment, and transmutation-which must reflect dweomers that it maintained. That was its purpose, after all, to maintain the function of magical devices-the question in this case was what sort of devices?
Somehow, the mythallar maintained life in this cave, but would that continue? Would Twilight and the others find the limit of the mythallar's range, where the air would simply disappear and they would perish? Or, worse- would the mythallar finally expire, and whatever life-supporting spells it maintained vanish in an instant, killing them no matter where they were in the city?
These considerations fueled Twilight's desire to find a way out, and soon.
The bee-creatures Liet described had not reappeared, but Twilight had seen black forms moving in that strange amber substance. Was it a hive of some kind? That might explain the flowers. A veritable madman's garden bloomed outside, and in here as well. Moss and vines crept through cracks and empty windows.
Nature has conquered this city, Twilight thought.
She looked around at her companions. Davoren lounged against the wall, seeming to sleep but really watching them all. In contrast, Liet snored against the opposite wall. Gargan sat sharpening the band's blades- excepting Twilight's rapier and the stiletto she'd taken from Davoren.
Twilight saw the halfling sitting still-gathering her focus for healing, likely-her face nothing but tranquility. The group was hungry-they had eaten little since Taslin's death a day and a half before, rationing out the remaining food-but calm.
Curious. Even in such tense, dark circumstances, the little one could know peace.
'Slip,' said Twilight. The halfling's ears perked up and her eyes opened. The shadowdancer slid to the floor beside her. The others weren't watching. 'Tell me of yourself.'
'I'm hungry,' she said. 'And thirsty. It's been near a tenday without food, aye?'
Twilight resisted the urge to chew on her lip. Water was worse-they had almost exhausted the last of the waterskins filled with Taslin's conjured water.
'No,' Twilight said. 'I mean of your life-where you come from.'
Slip grinned. ' 'Tisn't a riveting tale,' she said. 'Life in Crimel would bore woodpeckers to slumber faster than a Candlekeep sage's lecture on the life of the meadow cricket-even if there were crickets provided.'
Twilight was not to be parried so easily. 'Why did you leave?'
Slip shrugged. 'The usual reasons-adventure, the open road, see the Realms, meet new faces, and…' She trailed off and her face went dark. 'Reeman.'
'Your sometime mate.'
'A rascal if ever there was one!' Slip rolled her eyes. 'He did say the nicest things, and he was ever so convincing.' Her eyes closed, and a look came over her Twilight recognized only too well.
There was much to this story the halfling would not tell, and Twilight found no fault in the omitting. We all have our secrets, she thought.
'He was a kind lad, my Reeman-all of us loved him. Could talk a dwarf out of his beard or a dragon out of its hoard, then the both of them into leg wrestling. Which the dragon would win, of course.' She smiled. 'He had a trustworthy face, you understand.'
'Perfectly.' Twilight knew exactly what she meant, and it occurred to her that Slip possessed such a visage herself.
'And that's where the troubles began.'
Slip sat silently for a moment, and Twilight did not press her.
'One night, Reeman convinced me to play at hiding with him, as a prank on my da-to get all of Crimel stirred up. I'd hide in the woods, and he'd tell everyone a mouther got me.' She squinted. 'You know what-'
'Yes,' said Twilight. She knew the distorted abominations, with their four gangly limbs and tusks, by description if not by sight.
'Anyway,' Slip said. 'When everyone was gone looking, Reeman helped himself to all the gold at the temples and the warden's office, and set fire-accidentally, he said-to a few houses… while younglings were inside.'
Twilight felt a chill creep through her body even as Slip hugged her arms tight about her own breast. This had stopped being an innocent tale.
'March wardens followed Reeman, and he came to me for help. I watched as h-he killed-murdered!-two of them with his magic, and tried to run. When he tried to take me too, I-I…' She looked down at her hand, as though a bloody knife had just appeared that only she could see.
Then she looked up at Twilight. 'I had to do it, you see? 'Twas the-the right thing, and they cast me out for it!'
After a long moment, Twilight put out her arms.
Slip hesitated a few breaths, her lip trembling. Then her eyes softened with sudden tears, and she snuggled into Twilight's embrace. 'Oh, 'Light!' she cried, as that of a child to a mother. 'What else could I do? He killed two of my cousins afore my eyes and younglings besides!' Great sobs wracked her body.
Twilight closed her eyes in helpless sympathy and held Slip as she cried. She stroked the halfling's filthy hair- they were all filthy. Filthy, cold, tired, and heartsick.
How cruel she had been to suspect Slip-Billfora, Twilight remembered, for the story had allowed her to see the true halfling-how heartless. She knew all too well how easily a smile could conceal sadness, and how well tragedy could hide behind innocence.
Finally the tears stopped, and Slip breathed easier. Twilight made no move to release her.
'I was wed, too, once,' she said, letting the words slide out. 'Neveren. He-'
'Lilten, you mean?'
The world froze. Twilight blinked. 'What?'
Slip blinked up at her. 'What?'
There was a pause. Twilight looked at her very carefully. Ideas shot wildly through her mind-fears, anger, betrayal.
'Slip,' she said slowly. 'I've something important to do, and I need your help.'
'Of course!' Slip said. 'Anything, 'Light! You're my greatest friend!'
Twilight let that pass. 'Can your magic recognize lies?'
'Aye. I know that spell! I can hear lies when others tell them.' So it was magic, and nothing else. 'How can I help?'
Twilight nodded, and explained. Slip listened. In conclusion, Twilight pointed to a back room, which must have been some kind of storage for tools. 'Go into yon chamber and wait. I shall join you shortly.' She brushed the back of her hand along Slip's cheek. 'And you need not cry-all shall be well.'
The halfling wiped the tears away and beamed at her as only a comforted daughter could. Then she scurried into the side chamber and shut the door behind her.
Twilight blew out a long sigh and rose. So that was it.
She touched the sapphire pendant. Was its magic fading?
'I need everyone else to wait here,' she said as she dusted herself off. She gestured to the side room. 'Davoren-come with me.'
'What is it?' the warlock asked.
Ten heartbeats later, Slip guarded the door and Twilight faced the mage from the other side of the room, arms crossed. Davoren had answered his own question.
