monsters had charged.
In the space of a heartbeat, Daile had raised her bow, and, with icy calm, loosed three arrows in rapid succession. The orcs had dropped in their tracks, looks of dull-witted astonishment on their warty faces, each with a red-feathered arrow protruding from its throat.
Daile had lowered her bow, feeling a strange warmth surging through her blood. It was as if the attack had broken her from the grip of a spell. For the next three days she'd prowled the valley from end to end, from river to ridge top, searching. Every creature of evil she found had fallen prey to her arrows. Orcs, kobolds, even trolls were her quarry. All that filled her mind was the hunt. She had stalked the forest, as if it were her natural home, and she a hunter born to the wild.
Finally there had been no more monsters to slay.
Those few that might have remained had heard of her deadly bow and fled. Daile had returned to the small stone keep as a great weariness came over her. She'd slept for a day and a night, and when she woke, it was again as if waking from a spell. What had happened to her? She had almost… lost herself to the wilds. How much longer could it have gone on before she became the same as any beast?
She'd shuddered, vowing never to lose control of herself like that again.
Suddenly thoughts of Kern and the others had come crashing down on her; she had tarried too long. With one last glance at the valley that had been her home, she had leaped on the magic carpet and soared into the sky…
Finally Daile realized she could keep her eyes open no longer. She had to stop and rest for just a few hours, until the dawn. Then she would be on her way again. She pulled on the golden tassels, and the carpet began to descend.
A glimmer of light caught her eye.
It quickly vanished, but a moment later she saw it again. A small, warm spark dancing in a dark grove of trees. Someone was down there!
Instantly, all thoughts of sleep vanished from Daile's mind. She jerked hard on the tassels, and the carpet sped toward the firelight.
As she drew closer, she could make out two figures in the flickering circle. Quickly, she dug in her pack and pulled out the cylindrical scrying glass that had been her father's. When she lifted it to her eyes, her heart leaped in her chest. Evaine and Gamaliel! The long-haired sorceress lay near the fire, her eyes closed in sleep, while the tawny cat sat on his haunches, keeping watch. Daile grinned exultantly. She started to lower the scrying glass, then suddenly halted.
A third figure had drifted into the clearing.
It was a thing of shadows. All she could make out were sharp, moon-bright teeth and countless twiglike fingers. She drew in a sharp breath. Whatever it was, it was heading straight for Evaine. The great cat was staring into the night, seemingly oblivious to the intruder.
'Come on, Gamaliel,' Daile whispered.
But the cat did not stir as the shadow creature reached its long arms toward Evaine. Even as Daile watched through the scrying glass, the creature's spindly fingers touched the sorceress's brow. Evaine shuddered in her sleep. Gamaliel turned his head, as if sensing something was wrong, but it was clear that for some reason he could not see the creature.
Daile knew she had to act. As the carpet sailed toward the clearing, she hastily set down the scrying glass and reached for her bow, but by the time she looked up, the shadow creature was gone!
She shook her head. How could the thing have disappeared so suddenly? She lifted the scrying glass again to be sure.
No, the shadow creature still cradled Evaine's head in its hands, baring fangs in a milk-white grin.
Daile realized the truth: the scrying glass must be enchanted. That was why she could see the shadow creature. Gamaliel was not to blame. It was up to her to save Evaine.
Hastily she set the scrying glass aside and raised her bow. 'If there is a way to wound a shadow, bow, show me what it is,' she whispered fiercely.
The magical weapon quivered in her hands, the two ioun stones set into its wood humming brightly. Suddenly scarlet flames crackled along the arrow. The crimson bolt streaked through the air. It passed a scant foot above Evaine's sleeping form-and stopped in midair.
The great cat leaped to his feet at this strange sight.
'Gamaliel, Evaine is being attacked!' Daile shouted. Even as her words rang out, scarlet tongues of fire radiated from the arrow, outlining a writhing form. The shadow creature. With the aid of the magical fire, Daile and Gamaliel could see the thing clearly. It had lifted its twig-fingers from Evaine and was scrabbling at the arrow protruding from its chest. Gamaliel lunged toward the thing, fangs bared. He snarled and leaped back as crimson fire seared his muzzle. The shadow creature grabbed at the cat with its branchlike arms, ready to sink its needle fangs into Gamaliel's flesh.
'One more time, bow,' Daile whispered. Another blazing arrow plunged into the shadow monster. With a cry, the creature released Gamaliel and backed away, clawing at the arrow sunk into its eyeless face. Slowly, it lowered to the ground. The scarlet flames dimmed and vanished. Daile found that she could see the creature now, a motionless pool of shadow on the ground.
Daile was about to call out to Gamaliel when the carpet lurched violently.
The ranger swore. She hadn't been paying attention! There was a loud noise as the carpet snagged a tree branch, then Daile felt herself falling. Fortunately, a thick bed of pine needles cushioned her impact. Gamaliel helped her to her feet, and as he did so, she realized he had metamorphosed into his human shape. He regarded her curiously. Scorch marks covered his arms where the magical flame from her arrows had burned him.
'Gamaliel, your wounds-'
He waved her words aside. 'It is nothing,' he said gruffly. 'Your arrows saved us. Come, we must see to Evaine.'
The sorceress was already awake, though it was clear she was weak and dizzy. Whatever the creature was, it had obviously drained her with its deadly touch.
'I don't know how or why you found us, Daile,' she said with a faint smile. 'But your timing is impeccable.'
Stiffly, she knelt to examine the pile of dark tatters, all that remained of the creature. 'I've heard of beings that feed upon their victims' dreams.' Evaine sighed wearily. 'This explains why I've felt so hollow and dispirited these last days.'
'And I never suspected anything,' Gamaliel said quietly. There was anger in his voice, as well as anguish.
'Don't you dare be so foolish as to blame yourself, Gam,' Evaine said sternly. 'There was no way you could have known.' She turned her gaze toward the ranger. 'You picked a good night to find us, Daile. For six nights I've been growing weaker and weaker. Tonight would have been the seventh. After tonight, I might have become one of those creatures myself.'
Daile stared in horror at the sorceress. There was nothing she could say. Evaine reached out and gripped her hand.
'Thank you,' the sorceress said.
They spent the remainder of the night close to the fire, each telling what had befallen them since they had parted company at Evaine's dwelling. The sorceress brewed a pot of herbal tea that would help restore her strength and offered a cup to the ranger. Daile sipped the fragrant liquid, gathering her thoughts. She told the tale of their journey to the ruins of the red tower, describing how Kern had fought the osyluth and gained the Hammer of Tyr. She dreaded having to tell the story of her father's death once again, of having to relive that terrible moment Evaine had been one of Ren's best friends; she deserved to know. Her brown eyes distant, Daile began to describe Ren's fatal battle with the knight-fiend. When she finished, she was surprised to realize that, somehow, it hadn't been quite as painful reliving the memory this time.
'I will miss him,' Evaine said with a deep sigh. 'But Faerun is a better place because of Ren o' the Blade, and a brighter place. His life had meaning, great meaning. It was all he would have wished. Don't ever forget that, Daile.'
Daile knew that she would not.
