councilors. It would not be completely accurate to say that he was lord of the isle's northern coasts, but on the other hand no elf within fifty miles commanded the authority that Seiveril did as a high-ranking cleric and a lord of Evermeet's council.
'We sent a mage to Leuthilspar immediately, and followed her with messengers on horseback,' Araevin said. 'We left the Loremaster Quastarte in charge, with the other mages to help him defend Tower Reilloch until help arrives.'
'I will send assistance immediately, just in case,' said Seiveril. He stood and walked to the door, summoning a guard in the mist-gray and sea-blue colors of House Miritar. 'Tell Lord Muirreste to ready a company of knights to ride to Tower Reilloch at once' he instructed the fellow. 'Ask Muirreste to join me here as soon as he's passed word to his riders. Then send for the mage Earethel, and ask him to join me here too. And tell Sister Thilesil that I will require her to send along five or six initiates of the grove with Muirreste's riders. There are injured to tend. Be swift. I want Muirreste to leave within the hour.'
The guard's eyes widened, but he nodded and said, 'As you command, Lord Miritar.'
Seiveril watched the fellow go, then turned back to Araevin and Ilsevele. He clasped his hands behind his back and fixed his keen gaze on the two of them.
'Now,' he said, 'start at the beginning then, and tell me exactly what happened.'
Araevin nodded. He drew a breath, and recounted the events of the past two days as best he could. He had a tremendous memory for details-one could not be very successful in the study of magic without a mind for such things-and he carefully and completely described the battle, the aftermath, the discovery of Philaerin, and the empty vault.
When he finished, Seiveril paced anxiously around the room.
'Demons, you said?' the lord asked. 'I thought Evermeet's wards barred such creatures from the isle.'
'They were led by demons that possessed elf blood,' Araevin replied. 'Or perhaps elves corrupted into demonic shapes. They had black wings and terrible eyes, and they fought with both sword and spell.'
'You think the winged ones might have been elves?' Ilsevele said weakly.
'You saw them, too. They had our eyes, our ears, our features, and they were able to slip within Evermeet's wards.'
'Demon-blooded elves… Could it be that some of the Dlardrageths survive?' Seiveril mused. 'Dlardrageths?' asked Ilsevele.
Seiveril's eyes grew hard as he explained, 'Thousands of years ago, in the early days of Cormanthor, the sun elves of House Dlardrageth-a proud and powerful family-gave themselves to demons, hoping to strengthen their line and gain power enough to seize the Coronal's throne. They were discovered and driven out of Arcorar long before the mythal was raised over Cormanthor.' The nobleman sighed. 'What was it you said they were seeking in Tower Reilloch?'
'The Gatekeeper's Crystal,' said Araevin. 'Well, one-third of it, anyway. It is an artifact composed of three smaller crystals. We had one shard of it in Tower Reilloch. I could not begin to guess where the other two pieces are now. I suppose we should assume that whomever attacked the Tower already has his hands on the remaining shards of the crystal.'
'We'll find a way to get it back,' Seiveril said. 'At moonrise I will pray to Corellon Larethian, and prepare divinations to find out who stole the crystal and where they're hiding. We'll assemble an expedition of our best warriors and mages. Whomever dared attack Evermeet herself will not enjoy their success for long.'
He passed a hand over his face, his expression grim.
Araevin glanced at Ilsevele and saw that her jaw was set in a determined frown as well. Three years before, Ilyy-ela Miritar-Seiveril's wife, and Ilsevele's mother-had died during the war launched by the traitorous sun elf Kymil Nimesin. Ilyyela had perished in the catastrophic attack against the Towers of the Sun and Moon. It did not take a sharp mind to guess that Seiveril was sickened by the thought of another attack against Evermeet, following so quickly on the heels of the recent war.
'There is one more thing, Lord Seiveril,' he said. 'When I found Philaerin, he was dead, but he had managed to hide something from his attackers-a telkiira'. Araevin reached into the pouch at his belt and produced the small, dark stone. In the daylight of the study, the faint violet gleam in its heart was almost invisible. 'Philaerin concealed the gemstone in an extradimensional space. I noticed the spell and dispelled it when we found his body. I do not know for certain, but it seems likely that the high mage deemed this too important to fall into enemy hands and hid it as quickly as he could.'
'A telkiira?' Seiveril looked up. Araevin handed him the lorestone, and the noble studied it, peering into its depths. 'I have not seen one like this before. Do you have any idea what it holds?'
He passed the loregem to Ilsevele, who held it up between her thumb and forefinger and peered closely at it.
'No,' Araevin answered, shaking his head. 'Philaerin never mentioned it before. I saw several other telkiira that he kept, but never that one.'
'Strange. I think there is lettering in the stone,' Ilsevele said. She looked closer. 'Yes, there is. If you stare closely at the flicker in the depths of the gem, it seems to form itself into sigils or runes.'
'Be careful!' Araevin said. 'Magic runes can hold terrible spells. I'd better have a look at that.'
'I know,' Ilsevele said, but she recoiled and quickly handed it back to Araevin. 'It seems safe enough to handle, anyway. Are you sure you can spot any dangerous sigils before they're triggered?'
'I know a spell or two that can unravel magical traps of that sort.' Araevin thought for a moment, and wove a spell of deciphering with a few adroit passes of his hand and whispered words of arcane power. Then he held the loregem up to his eye and looked closely.
At first he saw little more than a dark purple blur, speckled with glimmers of lighter violet from the inner facets of the stone. Then he caught sight of the strange inner gleam, and fixed his eye on that. Instantly the wavering, inconstant flicker grew sharp and clear, forming itself into the shape of a rune that Araevin knew: dramach. It was a rune of sealing, a potent defense against intrusion.
Runes and magical signs used as seals could often be bypassed or neutralized by naming them.
Should I proceed? he wondered. Philaerin may have locked this stone for good reason.
On the other hand he would be able to form a much better guess as to the significance of the telkiira if he viewed its contents.
Without looking away from the rune glowing in the stone's depths, he said its name softly: 'Dramach'
The room whirled m amp;dly as he felt himself fall into the gem.
Light exploded in his head as a procession of brilliant, burning symbols flashed before his eyes. He caught glimpses of thoughts and knowledge that were not his own, fragments of arcane formulae, images of people and places he did not know-a hoary, vine-grown tower in a black forest, a proud sun elf whose eyes gleamed green in a darkened room, a pale hand arranging three stones identical to the one he held in a wooden case, the sudden appearance of an even larger loregem, the sound of a dozen voices chanting together in some sort of rite. Then the burning symbols returned, pressing themselves indelibly into his mind one at a time, each searing a word of power into his brain.
'Araevin!' Ilsevele cried out in concern. Araevin blinked his eyes clear of the hurtful vision, and found himself sitting awkwardly on the floor, the telkiira gripped in his fist. 'Araevin! Can you hear me? Are you hurt?'
He stirred slowly, gestured for patience, then said, 'No, I am not hurt. The telkiira transferred its knowledge to me. The experience is a little unsettling.'
'You are fortunate that it was not trapped as you had feared,' Seiveril observed. He reached down and helped Araevin to his feet. 'You frightened us, Araevin. You simply crumpled without a word. We thought you'd been enspelled.'
Araevin said, 'Give me a moment. I will be fine.' He gingerly felt his way over to the divan and sat down.
'What did you see in the stone?' Ilsevele asked.
'I am not exactly sure… a tower, a pale hand… three stones like this one, and a larger stone with a purple star in its heart. I do not understand it.'
Araevin took a deep breath, and carefully called to mind the bright symbols he'd seen.
Spells, he realized. The telkiira holds the formulae for a number of spells.
