phaerimm warbled its frustration and struck the ground again, causing a blinding ring of magma to roar dozens of feet into the air.
The archway's black silhouette remained visible through it all, but when the fiery curtain sank back into its crevices, all that remained of the three mages were fuming black robes, lying rumpled and empty along the edge of their circle.
Though it seemed minutes had passed, Aubric knew by his labored breathing and trembling muscles it could only have been seconds. He looked away from the receding fires more disheartened than awed. The gate had been raised- but to what purpose? Even if others wanted to help, Evereska remained as alone as ever. Any forces sent by Evermeet or Waterdeep would be destroyed the instant they left the gate-or, worse, added to the ranks of the phaerimm mind-slaves.
A shadow fell across the ground before Aubric, then he heard something wispy and sibilant inside his mind. Come along quietly, and you will live.
It was all Aubric could do to find the strength to look at the dusty, web-swaddled mass before him. 'I doubt it.'
Do not. I have a fondness for you brave ones. You hatch strong larvae.
Aubric heard a soft rustle and brought his sword up beside him, catching the phaerimm's tail just above the barb as it came whipping in at his flank. There was a wet slashing sound, then the feel of hot blood as the severed tail sprayed his face.
Leaving his pain to come flooding into him, Aubric called upon his last tiny reserve of strength to launch himself into a mad, cart wheeling attack.
He did not make it, of course. The phaerimm floated aside and let him tumble down the slope, and the searing spray of green vapor came sizzling down on him from above.
Aubric hardly noticed, for the strength had fled from his body. He felt the sword slip from his grasp, and the last thing he saw was the luminous face of the female mage watching him from the mouth of the black gate, and he was struck by how much her smile looked like that of his beloved Morgwais.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
30 Nightal, the Year of the Unstrung Harp
To Galaeron's eye, Malik looked a touch ill at the prospect of letting Melegaunt cast any spell on him, much less a spell involving a darkdagger and rope. His gaze kept darting from the bridge into the black wood beside them, where the others were breaking camp after a dry night's rest around a magic-heated boulder.
'Have no fear, my friend,' said Galaeron, knotting his elven rope around Malik's wrists. 'You may trust Melegaunt.'
Malik looked over his shoulder. 'You may, but 1 heard what he said to Jhingleshod before crossing the bridge.'
Galaeron wanted to ask for an explanation, but saw Melegaunt approaching with his darkdagger and knew there was no time. He leaned closer to Malik's ear. 'Then you may trust me, human. I do not allow those who save my life to be murdered-even if they are Cyric worshipers.'
'That is little enough reassurance,' said Malik, 'considering who is the student and who is the master.'
Melegaunt stopped before them and glowered down at the little man. 'I could not find you in the dawn shadows.' He paused, allowing Malik to consider the implications. 'If you don't wish to continue-'
'Oh no, you are not leaving me!' Malik glanced at the darkdagger, then raised his chin. 'Do what you must.'
Melegaunt cast an inquiring look in Galaeron's direction, and receiving a curt nod, kneeled at Malik's feet. Beginning a long incantation, he laid a small pair of braided shadow-silk manacles in the little man's shadow. The shadow instantly grew broad of chest and slender of waist, with a strange pair of what looked like antlers on its head and a blurry area of white in the center of its chest. Malik's teeth ground together loudly, but he did not try to flee as the shadowmage had warned he might.
Melegaunt cocked a bushy brow. Still chanting his spell, he drew his dagger along the edge of Malik's feet. The shadow came free, peeling itself off the stones to stand looming over them all, brown sky showing through the hazy-edged hole in its chest.
Malik gasped and would have collapsed, had Galaeron not been there to slip his hands under the little man's arms.
A pair of crimson eyes appeared in the shadow's head and peered at Melegaunt. 'I am bound to your will.' Its voice was as resonant as Malik's was nasal. 'Though you do me a grave disservice. 1 know your purpose and would aid it gladly.'
'All the same, we will keep matters as they are.' Melegaunt pointed across the bridge. 'I wish you to keep watch. You know our enemies?' 'The phaerimm-or Elminster?' the shadow asked.
'Both, and their servants as well,' replied Melegaunt. 'When you see any of them, return to Malik and give us warning.' The shadow inclined its head. 'As you command.'
Melegaunt studied the silhouette for a moment, then turned back toward camp. Galaeron started after him, pulling an awestricken Malik along beside him. The little man glanced at his feet and back to the shadow, then turned to Galaeron. 'That demon cannot be anything of mine!'
'Exactly.' Doubtful he could explain the shadowself as well as Melegaunt, Galaeron did not even try. 'You don't seem very disturbed. The first time I saw my shadow, I was terrified.'
'Oh, I have seen things worse than my own shadow,' scoffed Malik. 'After all, I am much favored of the One.'
They joined the others in camp, where Vala and Takari stood over a half-sized relief Aris had sculpted into an expanse of bedrock. Depicting Malik's rescue of Galaeron and Vala, the work was amazingly fluid and detailed. Malik's character looked more confused than resolute, and perhaps a little angry at himself for being foolish enough to jump into the river. Vala was unconscious in the crook of Galaeron's arm, more dead than alive. Galaeron was holding the rope and glancing down at Vala, his expression leaving no doubt that the terrible fear in his eyes was for her alone.
Takari and Vala were huddled together on the opposite side of the work, talking quietly and studying the relief so intently they did not see the others approach.
'… don't want either of you hurt,' Takari was saying. 'You've seen yourself why it can never be.'
'I have?' Despite her curtness, Vala's voice was surprisingly mild. 'When was that?'
'You met his father,' Takari explained. 'You saw what became of Aubric when Morgwais returned to the forest.' 'We're getting ahead of matters here, but I'm no Wood elf,' Vala said. 'Were 1 to make a life pledge, I would honor it as my mother and father honored theirs.' 'And how long would that be?'
Vala raised her chin. 'My parents have been sharing the fur for forty years and three.'
'A blessing for them both, but forty years and three is not the same to an elf.' Takari laid a hand on Vala's arm. 'Forty years from now, Galaeron will still be young, with four centuries before him.'
When Vala did not answer, Galaeron said, 'There's no need to poison her against me, Takari.' He waited for the pair to turn, then gestured at Aris's relief. 'It's only art- and what business is it of yours? I'm your princep, not your nestmate.'
The flash that came to Takari's eyes was more sorrowful than angry. 'And no fun as either.' She turned and slipped through the black tree trunks. 'Sorry to forget my place.'
Vala shot a scowl at Galaeron. 'I only kissed you,' she growled, starting after Takari. 'I have done more with half the men in my clan!'
This drew a crooked smile from Melegaunt, but he made no comment and turned to Jhingleshod, who stood studying the work with the enigmatic gaze of the dead. 'It appears we are ready to go,' Melegaunt said.
'You are ready,' said the knight 'But there is still the matter of my payment.'
Galaeron cast an anxious glance after the departing women. 'If the bridge is any example, you are not worth much of a price,' the elf said.
'You learned what you needed to learn,' replied Jhingleshod. 'If you recall what happened there, you may
