Dreaming Dragon, the occasion turned into something of a celebration. Estah, it seemed, was a local hero. Morhion had forgotten that the halfling woman had grown up in Corm Orp. Within minutes, he and the others had been introduced to a dozen smiling halflings, each claiming to be Estah's cousin. However, when Mari asked about the strange happenings at the recent Harvest Festival, things turned somber once again.
The halfling who had first spoken to them finally answered Mari's question. His name was Tam Acorn, and he was one of Estah's multitudinous cousins.
'It was the stranger,' Tam said grimly. 'He was the cause of all the dark happenings. A man in black on a pale horse.'
The companions exchanged glances. There was no need to say the name aloud.
'Can you tell us what happened?' Mari asked urgently.
Tam scratched his chin in thought, then began to describe the mayhem that had resulted from the stranger's wild music, and from the shadows.
Tam took his time, drawing out the tale. 'We were lucky none of the village folk were touched by the shadowbeasts,' he said finally, his voice hoarse with freshly remembered fear.
There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Mari leaned toward the halfling man. 'How long ago?' she asked fiercely. 'How long ago did all this happen?'
'Why, the festival was only five nights ago.'
Mari looked at Morhion. He nodded in understanding. They had found Caledan's trail, and he was only five days ahead of them.
The following morning, they rode north out of Corm Orp in the pearly light of dawn, hoping to pick up Caledan's trail along the Dusk Road. The morning was bright and cold. Frost glittered on the ground like a sprinkling of crushed glass, and the dome of the sky was as hard and blue as a cobalt porcelain bowl. Periodically, they dismounted to search for any trace of Caledan's passing-all except Cormik, who stayed on his horse.
After this pattern was repeated a few times, Jewel made a disparaging remark to the patch-eyed man. 'Tell me, my dear, bloated whale, are you afraid that if you get off your horse, you might not be able to get back on?'
'Not in the least, my sweet, witless strumpet,' he said indignantly. 'Unlike some of us, who in their senescence have become as nearsighted as a geriatric bat, I can see just fine from up here.'
Jewel looked unconvinced. Indeed, getting Cormik onto Plinth's back that morning had been an arduous ordeal involving a fair amount of pushing, grunting, cursing, and-on the part of Morhion-a minor spell of levitation.
'Let's move on,' Mari said in frustration. 'There's nothing here.'
'Many people travel the Dusk Road,' Morhion said grimly. 'In five days, all traces of Caledan's passage could have been obliterated.'
Mari gave a tight-lipped nod but said nothing as she climbed back into the saddle. They nudged their horses into a trot, starting once more down the road.
It was midmorning, and the autumn day was turning fine, when Morhion noticed that only four horses were trotting down the dirt road. Kellen was missing.
'He must have fallen back,' Mari said worriedly after Morhion called the others to a halt.
'Then we'd better go find him, and fast,' Cormik said darkly. '1 wouldn't be surprised if there were thieves on the road. Other than ourselves, I mean.'
They wheeled their horses around and thundered back down the road. As they rounded a bend and skidded to an abrupt stop, Kellen's pony let out a whinny and trotted toward them, trailing his reins. Flash's saddle was empty. Mari shot Morhion a fearful look. Unpleasant possibilities were numerous. Thieves were not the only perils in the wilderness. Morhion swore inwardly. If Kellen was hurt-or worse-he would never…
Jewel called out, 'Over here, loves!' and the others hastily spurred their mounts in her direction. They found Kellen kneeling by the side of the dirt road, peering at something amid a tangle of brambles and witchgrass.
Morhion allowed himself a sigh of relief. 'What are you doing, Kellen?' he asked sternly.
'I've found something,' Kellen indicated solemnly.
The others exchanged curious glances, then dismounted and approached, pushing aside the underbrush to get a glimpse of Kellen's discovery.
By the looks of it, the milestone was very old. It was cracked and sunk halfway into the ground. Centuries of wind and rain had almost completely worn away the words carved into its surface. Yet it was not the basalt Monolith's sense of age that made the companions stare. It was the face. The milestone had been grotesquely distorted.
much like the stone houses in Corm Orp. One of its four surfaces bore a human visage. The image was crude and half-formed, as though it had melted before resolidifying. Yet its expression was vivid, a look of utter sorrow.
It was Cormik who finally spoke. In a low voice he said, 'Well, at least now we know Caledan came this way.'
Morhion drew out the ruby amulet he had forged. A spark flickered deep in the heart of the gem. Cormik was right.
Mari shook her head. 'By the gods-look at it. The face in so unspeakably sad. He knows what's happening to him, doesn't he? He knows what he's becoming…' Her words trailed off.
'We should try to reach Hill's Edge before nightfall,' Morhion said finally. 'If Caledan continues to follow the road, people there will notice him.'
Somberly, the others agreed. They thundered down the Dusk Road, leaving the eerie face of sorrow far behind.
Nine
The rolling landscape slipped by in a blur of russet, brown, and burnished copper. As the afternoon wore on, dark clouds moved in from the west, accompanied by the low drumming of thunder. Soon the light began to fail, turning a dusky green. A storm was coming. Morhion tilted his head back, letting the wind tangle through his long hair. He loved storms. Like all wizards, he had a passion for gaudy displays of power.
Eventually the travelers realized they were not going to make Hill's Edge before dark. Morhion raised a hand, signaling the party to a halt. 'We had better find shelter for the night,' he advised.
They dismounted and began scouting to either side of the Dusk Road. It was almost dark when Jewel called out over the rising gale. The thief led the others into a nearby aspen grove where slender, leafless trees danced in the wind. In the center of the grove, in a massive granite outcrop, was the dim mouth of a cave. Just then, a bolt of lightning rent the sky, and the first cold drops of rain began to fall.
'I checked it out,' Jewel shouted above the roar of the storm. 'It's dry and goes back only a dozen paces. Plus,' she added with a grin, 'it doesn't appear to be inhabited.'
Tethering the horses under the shelter of a tall pine, they headed into the cave. They spread their bedrolls on the sandy floor and soon had a cheerful fire burning, making the place warm and almost snug. Mari volunteered to cook and was soon stirring a bubbling pot.
Cormik rubbed his chubby hands gleefully. 'So, what are we having for supper, Mari? Poached pheasant eggs seasoned with saffron? Braised fillet of young wyvern? Or perhaps'-he shivered with anticipation-'hummingbird tongues in a reduction of white wine and cloves?'
'Stew,' Mari replied flatly. 'We're having stew.'
'Stew?' Cormik repeated the word distastefully. 'I'm not sure what that is, but I must say I really don't care for the sound of it.'
Apparently he didn't care for the taste of it either. While everyone else ate heartily, Cormik picked at the contents of the wooden bowl in his lap, periodically letting out a despondent sigh. He clutched his expansive stomach. 'I'm going to waste away to nothing, you know.'
As usual, everyone ignored him.
The fire was burning low and they had just lain down to sleep when the whinnies of frightened horses
