as if whirling in an eerily graceful dance. Then, caught in a mortal embrace, dragon and knight plummeted toward the ground.
As they fell, shreds of shadow ripped away from their writhing forms. Then more tatters of darkness peeled away. Before the two creatures could strike the ground, there was nothing left of them except for a few drifting wisps of dark mist. These settled softly to the moor and in moments melded with the night shadows beneath rocks and in dim hollows. Shadowdragon and shadowknight were no more.
Hands trembling, Kellen lowered his flute. The night was silent once more. Mari, Morhion, and Ferret stared at him in amazement. He smiled wanly at them, then collapsed.
They spent all the following day inside the ruins of the old tower, huddling against the cold wind. To Morhion, the delay was maddening. With each passing second, Caledan drew closer to Ebenfar. Yet they had little choice. After defeating the dragon with his shadow magic, Kellen had fallen into deep unconsciousness, and had not waked since.
Ferret stood atop the ruined wall, keeping watch over the moor. A dreary mist had settled over the landscape once again. Mari knelt beside Kellen, bathing his fore-head with a damp cloth dipped in water steeped with willow bark. Despite the chilly air, sweat slicked Kellen's pallid skin. A fever raged inside him, so fiercely that Morhion could feel waves of heat radiating outward from several paces away. The source of the fever seemed to lie in Kellen's left hand, the one marked with the rune of magic.
Morhion had known Kellen's shadow magic was different than Caledan's, and last night's display had demonstrated it was more potent as well. Yet it was not so much the boy's raw power that intrigued the mage. It was Kellen's great control. More than ever, Morhion was convinced that Kellen's special qualities came from being both mageborn and a descendant of Talek Talembar. Even now, it appeared that the two powers-sorcery and Shadow magic-were waging a battle within the boy's body.
'Is there any sign of the fever lessening?' Morhion asked quietly.
Mari shook her head grimly. 'I'm afraid not. In fact, I think it's getting worse.'
He nodded in reply. Rummaging around in his saddle-bag, the mage pulled out a book. There was no telling when Kellen would be well enough to travel; he might as well put the time to good use.
Morhion sat on the ground and rested the ancient tome on his knees. It was the book the witch Isela had given him in Talis. Before opening the tome, he paused to examine Isela's ring. Last night, the silver ring's magic had helped protect them against the shadowhounds but not the shadowdragon. Why? Despite the dreary day-light, the ring's purple gem shimmered with light. Yet when Morhion peered deeper into the stone, he saw the center of the gem was dark, just as Jewel had pointed out earlier. He shut his eyes and heard Isela's words once more.
You seek to destroy a great shadow. Yet shadows can exist only when there is light to cast them. To destroy the shadow, you must destroy the light as well…
In his mind, Morhion ran over last night's events. The ring had altered his spell of protection so that it harmed the shadowhounds. A protection spell had components that were both light-a visible aura-as well as dark-an invisible barrier. However, he had attempted to attack the dragon with a lightning spell-magic forged solely of light. That time, the ring's magic had failed to have an effect. It seemed that the ring's enchantment required both light and dark to function properly. Just like the creatures that had attacked the Zhentarim in Iriaebor Morhion realized-creatures conjured by Caledan's shadow magic. He put the ring away and turned his attention to the book.
Morhion had no idea what knowledge the tome contained.
It was penned in the dead language Talfir, and so far the mage had not had time to translate anything but the intriguing title: On the Nature of Shadows. However, as he bent over the time-darkened pages and began to painstakingly translate the ancient words, he had a hunch be would find something of interest between the cracked leather covers.
When he finally lifted his gaze from the book, he was surprised to see that it was growing dark.
'Hey, you're back,' Ferret said with a crooked-toothed grin. 'I was beginning to think it was actually possible to drown inside a book. Mari and I were about to draw straws to see who would dive in and pull you out.' The thief squatted beside a small fire built in an alcove in the stone wall, stirring something in an iron pot. Mari had taken on Ferret's place atop the wall and was keeping watch. They had moved Kellen's motionless form near the fire; he was still unconscious. The mage blinked his bleary eyes. 'I think you'll both want to hear what I've read in Isela's book.'
'Can't it wait until after dinner?' Ferret asked. 'I'm famished.'
A spicy aroma arose from the pot. Morhion realized he was fiercely hungry. He nodded his assent, and the three gathered around the fire to eat. Miraculously, the thief had turned jerked meat, a handful of dried tomatoes, and a few wild-growing herbs into a delicious stew. When they set aside their wooden bowls, Morhion began explaining what he had read in the book the witch of Talis had given him. 'The book is entitled On the Nature of Shadows,' Morhion said in his rich voice. 'It is penned in the dead language Talfir. At first I had a difficult time translating it,until I made a rather intriguing realization. In this particular dialect of Talfir, the word for 'shadow' is the same as the word for 'shadevar.'' Morhion paused. A chill wind moaned softly over the crumbling stone walls of the tower. 'This book is a history of the shadevari.' Mari and Ferret exchanged startled glances but did not interrupt.
'I have long known that the thirteen shadevari were ancient beings. But according to this'-Morhion ran a finger over a faded page of runes-'the shadevari are older than the world itself. They are creatures of the dim chaos that existed before the gods forged Toril, in the time before time, before light and dark were separate entities. Instead of a world, as there is now, there existed only a misty realm of shadows, and the shadevari were lords of that realm. Then came the gods-though from where, no one knows-and they separated the shadows into light and dark, and set the world Toril spinning between the two.'
Carefully, Morhion turned a brittle page. 'For eons, the shadevari prowled the face of Toril, wreaking havoc and seeking ways to shatter the creation of the gods. Their only desire was to find a way to break the world and meld light and dark into shadowy chaos once more. Finally, the god Azuth, the High One, found a way to banish the shadevari. Beyond the edges of the world, he created the illusion of a realm of shadows, and the shade vari were drawn to the image. Once within, the shade vari realized that the illusion in truth masked a prison. Too late they discovered the trick, and Azuth locked the prison with a key forged of shadows by the god Gond, Wonderbringer. Then, with all his might, Azuth hurled the key into the cosmos, sending it spinning among stars so that it would be lost forever.'
'Something tells me that this cheerful little bedtime story isn't over yet,' Ferret said, scratching his chin.
'Something tells you rightly,' Morhion replied. 'For a long age, the shadevari remained sealed in their prison. In time they were forgotten. However, as fate would have it, one day the key that Azuth threw into the void entered the world once more.'
'The Shadowstar,' Mari breathed in amazement.
Morhion nodded. 'Indeed. What seemed a shooting star to the wandering minstrel Verraketh was in truth the key Azuth had used to imprison the shadevari. The Shadowstar gave the shadevari a small window on the world. Though still imprisoned, through it they were able to exert some influence. As the medallion transformed Verraketh into the Shadowking, the shadevari spoke to him, making him their slave, until at last he vowed that, when he was powerful enough, he would use the Shadowstar to free the shadevari from their prison. Then the thirteen would seek to destroy Toril once and for all. Fortunately, Talek Talembar defeated his father, Verraketh, before this could come to pass, so the shadevari remained sealed in their prison beyond the edges of the world.'
'Wait a minute,' Ferret protested. 'We killed one shade-var in the Fields of the Dead two years ago. Now three more are after us. That means at least four of the shade-var have been freed from their prison. And while they're nasty creatures-and I'll grant you, I'm no expert on theol-gy they really don't strike me as godlike beings.'
'You are correct, Ferret,' Morhion agreed. Dusk had fallen. Firelight played mysteriously across the mage's angular visage. 'However, from what I have learned, I would conjecture that the creatures that have pursued us now and in the past are merely avatars of the shade-var-limited, corporeal effigies conjured by the Shadow-star to
