'An old friend taught me that trick,' the raven-haired magic-user said, her thoughts suddenly turning to Cyric. But then Midnight felt a dark, somber mood settle over her, and for an instant, she was almost overwhelmed by her sorrow. The mage closed her eyes, steeled her will, and dismissed the emotion. Cyric's dead, and there's nothing I can do about it, the mage decided calmly. Kelemvor's alive and in need of my help. I can grieve later.
Midnight's thoughts were interrupted when Gratus moved to her side. 'Could that be something you're looking for?' the old man asked as he pointed toward the shadows twenty feet to the left of the door.
Midnight squinted. Something sparkled in the moonlight. It looked like tiny shards of amber light.
'It couldn't be!' she breathed, then advanced toward the light. Adon rushed ahead of her and bent down over a partially open canvas sack.
'Midnight, they're here!' the cleric cried, a broad smile lighting up his face. 'The sphere of detection and your spellbook are right here!'
'The assassins must have forgotten about them in the confusion caused by our escape!' Midnight said, picking up the sack.
'I didn't forget about it at all,' a voice boomed from a darkened corner across the warehouse. 'And I was counting on your not forgetting it either.' Durrock stepped out of the shadows and into the pale moonlight filtering in through the windows. He wasn't wearing his armor, and his disfigured face was uncovered as he walked toward the heroes.
Midnight nearly gasped as she saw the assassin's face, and a brief flicker of sympathy flared inside her. Then she felt the canvas bag slip in her grasp, and she tightened her grip on it. Quickly the mage realized that, since she didn't have the canvas sack with her when she first cast the invisibility spell, it was still visible!
'Thanks for showing me exactly where you are,' Durrock growled as he drew his night-black sword. The assassin was striding straight toward Midnight. 'I've been waiting here for you for some time now.'
The heroes spread out as far as they dared, and as Durrock came close to the mage, several of them circled behind him. Midnight tossed the sack to the ground and tried to dodge the assassin's attack, but the scarred killer made a feint forward, then reached out and grabbed the mage's hair. Midnight screamed.
Suddenly a large wooden plank crashed over the assassin's head, staggering him and forcing him to release his grasp on the mage. As Midnight scrambled away from Durrock, a blue-white aura enshrouded each of the heroes as the spell of invisibility faded.
Gratus stood behind the assassin, the shattered plank of wood still in his hands. Durrock gripped his night- black sword more tightly and screamed with rage and pain. The assassin's sword flashed out just as Varden grabbed the old man's shoulders and yanked him backward. The sword bit into Gratus's chest and blood spurted from the wound.
Midnight backed away from Durrock in shock. The assassin turned and took a step toward the raven-haired mage, but Adon appeared beside her and took hold of her arm. 'Run!' the cleric hissed as he pulled the magic-user toward the door.
Durrock started to follow her, but the two soldiers from Hillsfar stepped into his path, drawing their swords. 'Come on, you Zhentish pig. Let us see how you fare against someone closer to your own age!' Tymon taunted as he stood before the scarred man.
Wulstan glanced over his shoulder at Midnight, 'Take your treasure and run!' the fighter screamed. Midnight hesitated for an instant in the doorway, then picked up the canvas sack and backed out of the warehouse. Varden was already pulling the wounded merchant to the door, but Adon took hold of Gratus, too, and the heroes disappeared into the night. They slipped into the shadows and were far from the Zhentish garrison before the drunken soldiers even knew what had happened.
'Wake up!' the guard yelled and clanged his sword back and forth over the steel bars of Kelemvor's cell.
The green-eyed fighter was jolted from his sleep, but he pretended to wake gradually, making a show of shaking the sleep from himself, rubbing at his eyes, and yawning broadly. Two guards stood outside Kelemvor's cell, but the fighter didn't want the men to have the satisfaction of knowing that they had indeed startled him awake, that their little cruelty had affected him.
The fighter knew why the guards had awakened him, too. The Black Lord had expected an immediate answer to his proposition, but Kelemvor had argued that he needed time and solitude to consider the bargain. The fact that Bane agreed to his request had come as a complete surprise to Kelemvor. But now the time to consider the offer was past.
The fighter heard footsteps approaching from down the hall, and from the way the guards snapped to attention, Kelemvor knew who his next visitor would be. It was no surprise.
'You said I had until morning,' Kelemvor noted calmly as Bane stepped between the guards.
'Circumstances have changed. The time for you to act is now. Have you considered my offer?' Bane asked sharply. The edge in the fallen god's voice told Kelemvor that something had obviously angered him.
'I've been unable to think of anything else,' Kelemvor answered as he rose to his feet and stared into the blood-red flickers of light that danced in the Black Lord's eyes.
It was true. Even the fighter's dreams had been consumed by thoughts of freedom from the curse. Kelemvor had often wished that he was a hero, someone who could do noble deeds for the sole reward of helping others. But the curse had always stood in the way. The fighter believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that Bane could deliver on his promise. The God of Strife could make his dreams a reality.
Which only left the problem of Midnight to consider. If Kelemvor accepted Bane's terms, he would obviously have to betray the trust the mage had placed in him… and his feelings for her. But Midnight has betrayed me many times, Kelemvor thought bitterly.
Then the fighter reviewed the insults and petty hurts the mage had heaped upon him, trying to rationalize a decision he had really already made. The mage had left Shadowdale without him. Certainly her words upon Blackfeather Bridge were of love and commitment. Still, the simple truth was that Kelemvor had known Midnight for but a few weeks.
Suddenly Kelemvor wondered just how well he really knew the raven-haired mage. The fighter no longer worried about whether Midnight had committed the crimes the dalesmen had accused her of. There was no question that she had not. But Kelemvor wondered now if Midnight really loved him.
'You had visitors during the night,' Bane said casually, snapping Kelemvor away from his thoughts.
'Who?' Kelemvor asked. The fighter took a step toward the bars of his cell.
Bane narrowed his eyes and sneered. 'Who do you think, fool. Midnight and her accomplices. She was here to retrieve her spellbook and whatever other personal items she might have had with her when Durrock and his assassins captured her.' The God of Strife paused for a moment, then smiled. 'However, she did not try to rescue you.'
The fighter breathed a silent sigh of relief. 'Obviously the mage escaped again, or you wouldn't be here,' Kelemvor said.
Anger burned in the Black Lord's eyes. 'She could not escape before one of her party was wounded and two were killed. Do not overestimate your importance in my plans, Kelemvor. Midnight will die. Your participation is merely a matter of convenience. By allowing you to go to her and draw her out, I can minimize the casualties in my own ranks.'
Bane's playing this badly, the fighter thought. He's acting like a petty warlord, not a god. Still, the information Bane had just given the fighter about Midnight's visit to the Zhentish garrison answered some of the questions that had been tugging at the corners of his mind.
'Very well,' Kelemvor said softly but firmly. 'I will accept your terms.'
The Black Lord smiled. 'Then you have finally come to your senses. There is nothing more precious than life on your own terms,' Bane hissed. 'It's about time you realized that.'
The fighter nodded. 'I will find Midnight and win her trust. I'll convince her that I escaped on my own, and I'll pretend to lead her to freedom. Then… I'll subdue her at the first opportunity.' Kelemvor paused and ran a hand through his hair. 'Later, I will travel to Tantras to retrieve the Tablet of Fate that you have hidden in the city. In return for all of this, you will remove the curse of the Lyonsbanes.'
'That is correct,' Bane said, motioning for the guards to open the cell.
Kelemvor stepped back from the door. 'Now that our agreement is settled, where exactly is this Tablet of Fate?' the green-eyed fighter asked.
