“We’ll find a way. We must.”
Albanon sighed and followed Kri down the quay, scanning the wharves for anyone who might be able to help them. The sky was lightening with dawn’s approach, and he started to be able to make out the shape of the island and its crumbling tower out in the middle of the river. No lights shone from inside the tower, but that didn’t mean much. Local legend held that the tower had been used at the empire’s height as a prison for the members of noble families who fell on the wrong side of political disputes. That would probably mean the tower had extensive dungeons underground. If Nu Alin and his allies or lackeys were there, they could burn a thousand torches and not reveal a light outside the tower walls.
“You there, soldier!” Kri called, striding toward a member of the guard who stood on the quay.
The soldier jumped, obviously tightly wound by the strain of watching for attack. “What is it?” he said.
“We seek a boat to take us to the Tower of Waiting,” Kri said.
“Are you mad?” the guard answered.
Kri growled. “I tire of hearing that question,” he said. “Do you know where we can hire a boat?”
The guard scratched under the edge of his helmet. “Did you check with the fishers at the north end of the quay?”
“If you mean that listless bunch of layabouts more interested in gossip and mockery than earning a day’s wages, then yes, we spoke with them. They were utterly useless.”
The soldier looked distinctly uncomfortable, glancing first to Albanon and then to the nearby soldiers for support, but he found none. “Well, then,” he said. “I suppose you might try purchasing a boat.”
“And why would I do that? I don’t want to make a living fishing, I just want to get to the Tower of Waiting.”
Albanon stepped between Kri and the shrinking soldier. “Where might we be able to purchase a small boat?” he asked.
The soldier visibly relaxed, and he beamed at Albanon. “There’s a boatwright at the south end of the quay, near the bridge.”
“Thank you for your help.” Albanon took Kri’s arm and led him on down the quay.
“What was that about?” the priest demanded. “We don’t need a boat of our own.”
“I think we might. If things are as bad as they seem here, I don’t think we’re going to find anyone willing to risk their lives to take us out to the island.”
“Are the demons in the water?”
“I don’t know, but we do know that at least one demon is in the Tower of Waiting.”
“Or was, five hours ago.”
“Or was. In any case, I can hardly blame them for being unwilling to venture to the island. I’m not even certain I want to go there.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen Nu Alin before. You haven’t. You didn’t see what he did to Moorin, and you haven’t seen the strength he gives to the bodies he inhabits. He’s terrifying.”
Kri drew himself up with anger. “Where is the courage you showed at the Whitethorn Spire? You choose to abandon me now?”
“No, no. I didn’t say I wouldn’t go with you-just that I don’t want to. No one with any sense would want to, knowing what awaits us there. But I’m going anyway, because we have to. If we don’t destroy him, if we don’t break the siege, if we don’t drive off the demons, then who will?”
“No one will.”
“Exactly. We’re all that remains of the Order of Vigilance. And so we must stand and fight.”
Kri smiled, his anger faded. “That’s right. Our oath is all that stands between the world and its annihilation.”
Albanon looked quizzically at the old priest. “What oath?”
Kri stopped in his tracks and slapped his forehead with his palm. “Stones of Ioun, I can’t believe I forgot,” he said. “I grew too distracted in Sherinna’s tower, and neglected to teach you more about the order. I should have administered your oath while we were there.”
“What is the oath? Tell me now.”
“The Oath of Vigilance. To watch at all times for the appearance of the abyssal plague, the Voidharrow. To learn and pass on the traditions of the order. To fight against the creatures of the plague whenever and wherever they appear. And to guard against the construction of a new Vast Gate and its opening. We carry on Sherinna’s mission, as poorly as she herself understood it.”
“I swear,” Albanon said earnestly. He fell to his knees and bowed his head. “I swear the Oath of Vigilance, and promise to live up to the highest demands of the order.”
“You’re a fool, Albanon,” Kri said, but this time Albanon was sure he heard a note of pride in the old priest’s voice.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Shara led the way past Aerin’s Crossing, through another desolate stretch of silent woods, to the foot of the bluffs. The road wound back and forth up the bluff from there to more farms and orchards, and then to the Nentir Inn. Looking up the cliffside, she dreaded what she would find at the top. The darkening late afternoon sky had afforded her little view of the town across the river, but from what she’d seen, Lowtown seemed deserted as well. Quarhaun’s description of returning home to find his city completely destroyed kept resurfacing in her thoughts, and she started trying to imagine what it would mean if Fallcrest had been obliterated. What would it mean for trade in the Nentir Vale? For the precarious balance between civilization and the monstrous races and savage tribes of the region? And what town in the region would fall next?
“How are you holding up, Quarhaun?” she asked the drow.
He sighed. “I’m tired. That bed you were talking about earlier is sounding better and better.”
“Well, at the top of this bluff we’ll either find beds or else discover that there’s no safe place to rest left in Fallcrest. Can you make it up this road?”
Quarhaun looked up at the road. “It doesn’t look all that steep,” he said. “I think …” He frowned, staring up.
“What is it?” Shara tried to follow his gaze.
“I thought I saw something moving up there.”
“Where?”
Quarhaun pointed, and Shara leaned in close to gain the same vantage on his pointing finger that he had.
“You see where the road bends the second time?” His breath was warm in her ear, and she had some trouble keeping her eyes and her mind focused. “There’s a bush there, see it?”
Shara nodded, speechless.
“I thought I saw movement around the bush, the branches shaking. It might have just been a rat or lizard, I don’t know.”
“But we haven’t seen any other living thing in more than half a mile of walking,” Shara said, pulling away from Quarhaun and shaking off the distracting effect of his nearness, but keeping her eyes trained on the spot he’d identified.
“I don’t see anything,” Uldane said.
Shara shook her head. “Neither do I. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing there. Stay on guard as we ascend. This would not be a good place to get attacked.”
“Then it logically follows that this is where we will be attacked,” Quarhaun said.
“Logically follows?” Shara said. “If you’re suspicious to the point of madness, perhaps.”
“I don’t know about the point of madness, but that kind of suspicion is what lets drow live to see adulthood.”
“How can you live like that? Expecting attack around every corner?”
