The stony fingers, each as thick as a tree branch, began to close about Caledan. There wasn't time to think. Holding on to the rope with one hand, he drew his sword. Just as the cold, hard fingertips brushed against his chest he swung the rope forward and brought the hilt of his sword down on the circlet resting on the statue's brow.
His hand was thrown back painfully with the force of the blow. The sword clattered to the street far below. The stony fingers closed about his chest, tightening until he could barely breathe-before shuddering to a stop.
His blow had cracked the king's crown. Brilliant purple sparks flared about the dark fissure, sizzling like lightning. The violet glow wavered, then vanished. The gigantic statue lurched precariously to one side. Caledan tried to free himself from its grip, but he was stuck in its grasp. The stone king started to topple.
'Oh, no you don't,' Tyveris growled. The loremaster, his chest against the bridge, reached down, just managing to grab Caledan's collar. Caledan felt himself pulled roughly from the stone king's grasp as the statue fell next to its queen. With a grunt Tyveris hauled him up onto the bridge.
Caledan groaned. His shoulders and chest felt as if they were on fire. 'I am really far too old for this,' he managed between gasps.
'So are we all,' Tyveris rumbled wearily, rubbing his aching temples. Breaking the priest's enchantment had left him exhausted.
'Speak for yourself,' Ferret replied in his raspy voice, his dark eyes shining.
Caledan could have, he would have strangled the little thief.
The trio made their way westward along a mazework of bridges far above the city streets. Some Zhentarim tried to follow, but the smokepowder blast had blocked the western exit from the plaza. The three companions quickly left the turmoil of the square behind.
Finally they descended to a quiet side street. Estah, clad in simple peasant garb, sat on the bench of a farmer's wagon filled with straw, holding the reins to a pair of ponies. Man was with her.
'Ferret!' Estah cried out in joy at the sight of the thief.
'What took you so long?' Man asked, her eyes flashing. Caledan and Tyveris exchanged a weary look. 'I really don't think you'd believe us, Harper.' She laughed. 'You're probably right.' 'We'd better go,' Estah warned. 'The guards will be coming this way soon enough.'
No one argued with the healer. Caledan, Mari, Tyveris, and Ferret burrowed themselves deep into the concealing straw in the bed of the wagon, and Estah flicked the reins. The wagon clattered down the street.
Estah was right. Minutes later a pair of hard-faced Zhentarim warriors pounded on their chargers down the street. However, all they saw was a halfling farmer driving her wagon to market. They swore as they continued on, knowing that if they didn't find the troublemakers Lord Cutter was going to have their heads.
Eight
Twilight crept on soft, padded feet into the garden behind the Dreaming Dragon. Mari sat on a stone bench, watching as the pale crescent of the moon rose above the city's spires, its silken light glimmering off the moon- and-harp pin she wore on her jacket. The faint, sweet scent of the first crocuses hung upon the cool evening air, and the mourning doves that nested in the branches of an ancient oak tree sang their gentle song. She folded the piece of parchment she held and slipped it into her pocket. It was a missive from the Harpers.
She had managed to slip away to the free market in the New City that afternoon to meet the messenger, but later Caledan had nearly caught her reading the secret communication. That would not have been good. The missive came from the hand of Belhuar Thantarth, from Twilight Hall in Berdusk.
Mari heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and looked up to see the big loremaster, Tyveris. He smiled broadly as he walked toward her, his teeth white in the moonlight, and Mari could not help but smile in return. There was a gentleness about the priest of Oghma despite his size, and he seemed perpetually good- natured.
'Estah would not be pleased if you caught a chill out here, Mari,' Tyveris said reprovingly, though as always there was a kindly note in his voice. He held out a midnight blue cloak and wrapped it about her shoulders. Mari tensed for a second when she realized that the cloak was Caledan's, then she relaxed. Tyveris meant well, and besides, he was right. The air was chilly, and she had been shivering.
'Thank you, Tyveris,' she said, pulling the cloak tightly about herself.
'It really isn't safe to be out here so long, you know.' Tyveris's dark eyes were concerned behind his spectacles. 'The Zhentarim are combing the city for us after our exploits yesterday. Ferret's already… er… disposed of one guard who ventured too near the inn. You should come inside.'
'I will,' she said. 'I was simply… thinking, that's all.'
'Are you well, Mari?' Tyveris sat next to her on the bench. It groaned alarmingly beneath his bulk.
Mari smiled at the massive Tabaxi. 'Oh, it's nothing really,' she told him. 'This is just a day for memories, that's all.' She took a deep breath of the purple air, sighing. 'I was raised by a Harper, you know. Master Andros was his name. When I was a child, in the city of Elturel, both of my parents died of the fever. After that, I lived on the streets for several months, finding food where I could. But then winter came. I don't know if I would have survived. Or, if I had survived, what I might have become. That was when Master Andros found me.'
Mari thought back to that cold day, to the small, thin girl she had been, shivering in her rags in a storm drain beneath an abandoned building. She had been so afraid at first when the man had stopped and peered in at her through the grating. But his blue eyes had been so kind that finally she had reached out and taken his hand.
'He took me in, like you take in children at the abbey, Tyveris. We lived in a small, rambling cottage, filled with books, and maps, and musical instruments. He was growing older and didn't travel for the Harpers anymore. We spent our evenings together by the fire, reading, making music, or talking about ancient days. But Master Andros was more than just my teacher. He was my father, Tyveris, and my friend.'
The loremaster laid one of his big hands gently on Mari's own. 'How long ago did his spirit move on?' he asked her softly.
'Three years ago today,' she said, surprised at the tightness in her throat and the trembling in her voice. What would Master Andros think of her? He had always taught her to be strong. 'I joined the Harpers after he died,' she said, clenching her jaw and forcing her trembling to stop. 'I want more than anything to make him proud of me.'
They sat in silence for a time while the doves sang their sorrowful song. Finally Tyveris squeezed her hand and then stood. 'Why must you make him proud of you, child?' he asked her softly. 'Was he not already?'
Before Mari could reply Tyveris turned and walked back into the firelit glow of the inn, leaving her alone in the darkness of the garden.
Caledan headed down the narrow back stairwell and joined the others in the private dining chamber.
Tyveris and Mari were helping Estah set supper on the board as Ferret entertained Pog and Nog with a copper coin the thief had borrowed from them. The weaselly little man sent the coin dancing about his knuckles, the penny disappearing in one hand only to reappear in the other. The two halfling children watched in rapt delight, and Nog squealed when Ferret seemingly pulled the coin right out of the boy's ear.
'All right, that's enough,' Estah scolded the three of them. 'To the supper table with all of you.' Pog and Nog groaned in disappointment but shuffled off, dragging their feet, to obey their mother. Ferret, of course, pocketed their coin as he followed.
'So are you ever going to tell us why Lord Ravendas wanted to string you up, Ferret?' Caledan asked the thief as they broke bread.
Ferret shrugged. 'All you had to do was ask, Caledan. It isn't as if it's a secret. I was making plans to escape from Ravendas's work gangs beneath the city, along with the other prisoners who were going to be hanged.' He scratched at the dark stubble on his pointed chin. 'But then one of the prisoners in on the plan got scared and
