wards worth breaching exist? Don't waste our time with wishful thinking, Zaltarish.'
'Is it wishful thinking? The invaders of Tower Reilloch have already demonstrated their ability to slip through Evermeet's magical wards,' the old sage replied, unperturbed. 'Why would they steal a device designed to bring down our defenses, when they seem to be able to master our wards already?'
The chamber fell silent. Selsharra Durothil composed herself gracefully, and voiced her displeasure at the scribe's logic only with a single icy glance. Seiveril kept his face impassive as well, though he allowed himself a wry smile on the inside. Zaltarish was mild and soft-spoken, and some of Evermeet's high lords and ladies were in the habit of considering him ineffectual because he rarely asserted himself. It pleased him to see the ancient scribe stand the great Lady Durothil on her head.
'Lord Blackhelm spoke of recovering the crystal,' Jerreda Starcloak said to Seiveril. 'Have you begun any efforts to do so?'
Seiveril nodded and replied, 'As soon as I was informed of the theft, I prayed to Corellon Larethian for spells to divine the crystal's location and the identity of our foe. Unfortunately, I was unable to ascertain either. It seems our adversary anticipated that we would attempt to scry out his secrets, and made sure of his own magical defenses.'
The grand mage said, 'I will begin divinations of my own at once. Perhaps our foe will make a mistake and let us have a look at him.'
'In the meantime,' Seiveril said, 'I have suggested to the queen that we should send word to our spies in Faerun to drop all other matters and search for some sign of our foe. For that matter, we should dispatch more agents to Faerun at once. If our divinations prove fruitless, then we will have to find our enemies with simple persistence. The sooner we begin, the better.'
'Sending our wizards and knights to blunder about Faerun chasing shadows seems pointless,' said Ammisyll Veldann. She looked over at Amlaruil. 'I refuse to compound negligence with folly. In fact, I find that I am not at all confident that this matter should be left in the hands of the throne's agents, seeing as the council has just learned how easily our defenses were defeated-again.'
'What are you implying?' Seiveril demanded.
'I imply nothing,' Lady Veldann said. 'I will observe, however, that since King Zaor's ascension the throne has assumed increasing power over Evermeet's affairs and defenses, but our walls seem to be growing more and more porous. As the council has been relieved of the responsibility of overseeing our magical wards and physical defenses for some time, it is clear where the responsibility for these failures now lies. Perhaps it would be wisest if the council assumed direct oversight of the investigation of this entire affair and the organization of an appropriate response.'
Corellon, grant me patience, Seiveril fumed.
For decades he had listened to Ammisyll Veldann begrudge the queen's every effort to unite Evermeet's defenders behind the throne, and she had the temerity to wonder why Evermeet was not invulnerable to attack? He started to speak, but he sensed a small wave of the queen's hand. He shut his mouth and turned to look at Amlaruil.
'I accept responsibility for the losses at Tower Reilloch,' Queen Amlaruil said. Her eyes flashed, but she did not lose her composure. 'The preservation of our realm's People and treasures is the single highest privilege and responsibility of the throne. When the lives of our elves are lost, then I have failed in my duty, and I deserve censure. But know this: I intend to exercise the full power and authority at my disposal to recover the crystal and oppose the purposes of our enemies, wherever they may be found.
'I swear by the Seldarine that this crime shall not go unpunished.'
CHAPTER 5
29Alturiak, the Year of Lightning Storms
The town of Daggerford was a sleepy little stopover on the Trade Way near the mouth of the Delimbiyr River. It was a human town, with only a scattering of other kindred, and though it was protected by a wall and a sturdy keep, its streets were unpaved and its buildings had a ramshackle, weather-beaten look to them. Araevin was amazed at how much the soporific little town had changed since last he walked its streets. In some ways it felt much as it always had. A strong wet wind blew in from the Sea of Swords. Freezing slush lined the streets. Rustic, heavy-handed craftsmanship was evident in the iron-hasped doors and thick-beamed buildings. Acrid smoke filled the air from open-air smithies, fuming smokehouses, and seemingly every home and store. But half the buildings he remembered had vanished, replaced by new ones.
'Incredible,' he murmured. 'I was just here only a few years ago… and it seems they've knocked down the whole town and rebuilt it since then.'
Ilsevele stayed close to his side, warily eying the pass-ersby in the wide, muddy street. She wrinkled her nose at the heavy smoke in the air.
'I feel no Tel'Quessir nearby,' she said. 'How strange to be in a town of this size and sense no one else.'
'They are here. Humans do not experience community the way we do. Each is a lonely isle in the sea, out of sight of his fellows.'
'Then why do they dwell in such close quarters?' Ilsevele muttered. Her eyes watered from the smoke of a nearby smithy. 'And do they each have to have their own fire?'
'Ah, here we are,' Araevin said.
The Dragonback Inn was a large, rambling building with chest-high walls of fieldstone from which rose sturdy wooden walls with thick timbers framing the structure. Dark, small-paned windows of green leaded glass looked out over the broad ford of the Deliymber below, and a creaking sign of grayed wood hung over the strong door.
Araevin noticed Ilsevele's dubious expression, and said, 'It's not so bad, really. Come on, let's go in.'
They pulled open the heavy door and entered the building, finding themselves in a cozy, warm common room that Araevin remembered fondly. There, at least, not much had changed. A fierce-looking dragon skull hung over the large fireplace, and battered old shields and banners draped the walls. A dozen plain wooden trestle tables were jammed into the room. It was the middle of the afternoon, so most were empty, but Araevin knew they'd be full by sundown, and likely stay that way until midnight.
'Araevin!' a deep, gravelly voice called across the room.
Araevin turned to see a tall, square-shouldered human with a deeply weathered face, a gray goatee, and a close-cropped fringe of iron-gray hair rising to hail him, dressed in a simple cassock of red. He did not recognize the fellow, and opened his mouth to request an introduction-then he realized with a shock that it was Grayth Holmfast.
The human's dark hair had gone silver-gray and retreated sharply above his brow, and his powerful, athletic build had grown lean and spare. The Lathanderite priest caught him up in a powerful embrace before Araevin recovered from his astonishment, and thumped his back with blows that might have staggered the elf mage if he hadn't been held up.
'Araevin Teshurr, as I live and breathe! It's been damned near twenty years, old friend. Where have you been keeping yourself?'
Twenty years? Araevin thought, confused. Surely it had not been that long… but when he thought on it, he'd last traveled in Faerun in the Year of the Worm, 1356 by Dalereckoning, so that would make it eighteen years.
'Evermeet,' he answered. 'I've continued my studies at home since I left.' He rallied and returned Grayth's embrace, pounding the cleric on his back. 'It's good to see you, Grayth!'
The human cleric stepped back and studied Araevin from head to toe.
'Amazing,' he said. 'Time touches you so lightly. You have not changed a bit, my friend.'
Araevin replied, 'I forget how different it is with us.'
Grayth barked laughter and said, 'That's one way to say that the years have been hard on me!' He gestured at his receding hairline. 'The hair began retreating ten years ago. Oddly enough, it's started to sprout on my back
