pro.'
Ren came up the stairs carrying the dead woman, a small figure with the dark coloring found in the far southwest reaches of the Realms. He laid her already stiff body on a long counter in the kitchen. 'From what I can see, she was pushed down the stairs after she was killed. There's still a ladle in her hand. My guess is she never even saw her murderer. We're talking about a really brave assassin here.' Ren felt like spitting to clear the bile that rose in his mouth at the thought of the kind of vermin that would kill with so little cause.
'From the way things are laid out there,' Ren went on, pointing to an assortment of dishes, cooking utensils, and foodstuffs, 'I'd say she had already finished preparing a meal for her master and guests and was working on food for the servants, if that matters any.'
Tarl spoke a prayer for the woman, soliciting Tyr's aid in helping '… another victim of the darkness that rules the outskirts of this city' to find her peace.
'The way those rope marks pull up on her neck doesn't look to me like the work of a kobold or anything else that short,' Ren mused.
'Whoever or whatever killed her, may Tyr help her find the solace of her patron god.'
They left the woman, agreeing to return and bury her when they left. The door across the hall led to what were apparently servants' quarters. There were two beds, and beside one they found a young man, dead. He'd obviously seen his attacker and struggled with him-or it. He had fallen victim to repeated stab wounds to the chest. Once again, Ren noted the nature of the wounds and suggested that the killer was tall, perhaps as tall as Tarl.
'I grieved only for my teacher,' said Shal. 'It never occurred to me that others died with him.' She was near tears and stood clenching and unclenching her fists as she stared down at the bloody corpse. She spoke to no one in particular, pausing between words. 'When Denlor sent his message in the crystal, he was completely overwhelmed by monsters and humanoids. But Ranthor and this poor young man and the cook… you're suggesting they were killed by another human being. I–I couldn't see the attacker, you know-only an arm, stabbing over and over. I just-just assumed it was a hobgoblin or one of the other beasts that were attacking the towers.'
'Shal, I'm not saying for sure that it was a man,' said Ren quietly. 'I'm saying I think it was. But at any rate, they wouldn't be any less dead if it was a hobgoblin or a kobold that killed them.'
'I know that!' Shal shouted. 'Don't you see? Monsters and humanoids kill on whim alone. Men kill for reasons-however distorted. A kobold I could kill and be done with it, with no regrets. A man I'll hate…'
Tarl put an arm around Shal. 'And you will probably be right in that feeling.'
Shal gently removed Tarl's hand from her shoulder, squeezing it firmly before letting go. 'I need to find Ranthor,' She turned to leave the room.
'Wait!' called Ren, quickly reaching for Shal's arm. 'Don't you think it would be better for Tarl and I to lead? We can't be sure that everything within these walls is dead.'
'No, but we do know that almost everything within these walls is magical. Tarl was the right person to lead us at Sokol Keep. I'm the right person to lead us through the red mage's tower.'
Once again Shal left no room for question. She turned again and went through the meeting hall to the door from which the red robe had emerged. The horse, the two men, and the red robe followed.
The door opened into a splendid, almost palatial landing at the foot of a great, broad soapstone staircase. The floor was inset with tourmaline, amber, amethyst, aventurine, and other semiprecious stones. A brilliant light beneath the stones shone through their translucent surface, creating a glorious speckling of many-hued rays that colored the walls in a dazzling display. The whole party stopped for a moment to admire it.
When Shal finally started up the stairs, a ruby-colored cloud, in the image of the red mage himself, formed on the staircase.
Tarl didn't recognize Denlor. The only contact he'd had with such cloudlike visages had been with the wraiths that had killed so many of his brothers in the graveyard. He charged past Shal and would have challenged the ghostly vapors had not Shal caught hold of his armor and used all her recently acquired strength to stop him.
'Poison! It's poison, Tarl!' shouted Shal, hauling him back. 'It's a poison image of the master of this tower!' Tarl looked sheepish, and she softened her voice. 'I'm sorry, but I must insist that you let me go first. I welcome your company, and I can use your help, but as I said to Ren, this is my mission.'
Even as Shal spoke, the cloud expanded, spreading its deadly haze down the stairway. Both Shal and Tarl started to cough.
Shal held her breath and concentrated, then spoke the words she'd heard from Denlor.
The cloud dissipated immediately, and the wide soap-stone stairway once more stood vacant. Shal started up again but stopped when she heard Cerulean's whimper inside her head.
She spun around, very nearly bumping into Ren and Tarl, who were following close behind her. 'What is your problem?' she exclaimed, her eyes blazing.
Tarl and Ren, who were both feeling less and less comfortable about their roles in this venture, looked up at her and started stammering in unison.
'No!' Shal shook her head furiously and pointed down the stairs in disgust. 'Not you-him! He's whimpering in my ear like some sick child!'
'Stairs don't come any broader or shallower than these, Cerulean,' Shal answered in a tone that was decidedly lacking in patience.
The horse continued to stand at the bottom of the stairs, shaking its head and whickering and stamping one front hoof. Bathed in the colorful lights from the stone floorway, he looked like some child's giant stuffed toy.
Shal pulled the indigo cloth from her belt and started down the stairs, holding it out in front of her.
Shal's eyes glinted for a fleeting moment. 'If I make you small, will your voice be small, too?' She didn't wait for a reply. She concentrated for a moment and said the words for a Reverse Enlargement spell. A cat-sized Cerulean instantly appeared, looking pathetic at the bottom of the stairs, overshadowed by the hovering robe. Shal strode down the stairs, slapped her hip a couple of times, and called, 'Here, boy! Here, boy!' as if she were calling a dog.
Shal picked up the flailing miniature horse and climbed to where Ren and Tarl were still standing, looking more than a little bewildered.
'Would you take him?' she asked Ren, holding out the kicking animal. 'I need to keep my hands free to cast spells.'
Ren's mouth was open, but no words came out. Shal immediately headed back up the stairway.
'I thought rangers liked horses,' said Tarl, jabbing Ren with one elbow.
Ren leveled a gaze at Tarl that might have turned him to ashes, but the cleric only grinned more broadly.
Ren stuffed Cerulean up under his left arm and clamped him against his side in a near rib-breaking grip. Of course, he had no way of hearing the horse's hysterical complaints, and Shal wasn't paying any attention.
As Shal reached the top of the staircase, the red robe swished ahead of her and stood beyond the stairway, waiting. Shal looked back toward her friends and shrugged. 'I think we have a new guide.'
The robe remained still, flitting nervously, till everyone got to the top of the stairs, which ended in the foyer to a large dining room. Like the meeting hall downstairs, the dining room was rhombus-shaped and appeared to serve as the hub of the second level. Set in walls to the right and left were two shiny brass doorways, both of which showed signs of recent battering. Straight ahead was another doorway that they could only assume led to the third level. But the red robe did not leave the room; instead, it whisked to the mammoth walnut table at its center and stopped over the high-backed head chair.
'Look-ashes,' Shal said as she reached the chair. 'Denlor must have died here.'
'At the table?' asked Tarl.
