What did Ardeth think? A cool mystery, she was obviously not a willing party to this detour, but there was no obvious fear in her face. Unfortunately, they could not draw strength from her composure the way the simple- minded hobgoblin could.
'The fashion in Secomber is to say that at the headwaters of the Run lies the Glade of Life, where the gods live and dance as mortals do,' said Gunton. 'Others claim that it's the birthplace of all the races of Faerun, and that no further race could ever come to exist if the Glade were destroyed.'
A faint roar drew them upstream, the sound growing louder and louder until they rounded a rocky bend to find a true place of legend before them. The roar of the falling water was deafening, yet it appeared as gentle as the mist that softly drifted down from the rocks high above, and the high grassy plateau surrounding it. They all stopped, stunned at the sight of this waterfall. Even Leng stood agape. He merely stared into the rushing waters, the gentle spray misting his strangely calm features.
'The first of the Sisters,' said Royce. The Sisters, a set of waterfalls along the Unicorn Run's upper reaches, were famed for their beauty and natural majesty. For once, the legends did not lie.
'I thought no sight could displace Highstar Lake as the most beautiful my eyes have seen,' Gunton said, gripping his bearded chin. 'The alchemist Amanitus wrote...'
'Quiet, fool,' shouted Leng. The calm on his face vanished as he spun to face the trees that lined the banks. With a quick incantation, a pair of black, disfigured hands appeared in the air before him, disembodied and sharp- clawed, and in a flash they flew out into the green wilds. When they returned, they were clamped around the slender arms of a naked woman with greenish hair. She resisted wildly with flailing limbs, her eyes wide in terror. The claws released the dryad at Leng's feet, dropping her flat on her face. Leng drew the flail from his waist and brought it down with all his force onto the dryad's head with a stomach-turning crack.
The Antiquarians winced. The wreck of the dryad's body shriveled before their eyes and lay motionless.
'Was that necessary?' demanded Royce. 'Obviously, they know we're here.'
'I prefer my women without skin the texture of bark,' Leng hissed, his eyes alighting on Ardeth.
'What threat is this place to you?' Royce pressed, determined to speak, though it might mean his death. 'Is it a threat to Llorkh, or the Zhentarim, or to the church of Cyric? You want to destroy this because it is beautiful, or simply because it offends you?'
The twin claws flew over to hover at Royce's neck.
'Isn't it reason enough,' began the priest. 'To accomplish what even Fzoul would never dare?' He turned to face the waterfall again, and dipped into a pocket deep in his robes. He produced a small crystal vial filled with viscous liquid. He tossed it in the direction of the waterfall and with its own speed it flew, vanishing into the waters.
'It is said no force can pollute the Unicorn Run,' said Gunton.
The claws vanished as Leng folded his arms over his chest. 'We shall see. Now you shall see what I made of that unicorn's horn.'
Before their eyes, the crystalline purity of the waters became specked with spots of brown that coursed around the bend like a patch of filth, spreading its disease downstream. A fetid cesspool stink filled the air. Nithinial bent over and retched on the rocky shore.
Leng chuckled at this. 'Your elf blood is showing, cur,' he said.
A churning brown-green sludge manifested at the foot of the waterfall, its oily menace spreading across the river. What this substance was, none of them knew, but it bubbled and crawled on the surface of the Unicorn Run like a sheet of pain. Dead fish floated to the surface, their flesh rotting away on their bones.
'I hope this pleases you, Leng,' Ardeth said. 'You've taken a place famous for its beauty and serenity, and you've remade it in your own image.'
Leng spun back to cast her an acid glare, but as he did so, the slime parted on the river like a curtain. Fresh water bubbled up, neutralizing the black putrescence. The thick bog of sludge weakened, and soon patches of blue broke through the inky ooze, then whole streams of clear water.
The Antiquarians breathed sighs of relief.
'Are you satisfied now?' Ardeth asked. 'It seems, sometimes, the legends speak true.'
Leng snorted, his pale skin flushed red, and his muscles tensed. He swung his flail down on the dead dryad at his feet, again and again. Brittle bones were smashed and rivulets of amber blood flowed down the Run.
At last, Leng swung the flail, dripping with fey blood, high into the air.
'Does this place hold nothing but disappointment?' he shouted, his voice hoarsening as he projected it over the waterfall. 'Show yourselves! Where is the godly might? They say the nature gods walk here, but where are they now? Mielikki, Eldath, Shiallia, Lurue, and all the fey gods whose names I never bothered to learn—will you let me march into your domain unopposed? And where are the Unicorn Queen's children? Do you fear me so much that you must hide away? If you want to fight me, fight me now!'
A whinny was heard from the forest. As the group looked around at both banks, they could see hints of movement within the woods and patches of white—were they the unicorns, or was it just a trick of the light? Then the sound of trotting hooves came from both sides of the river, quickly growing louder.
The Antiquarians drew their weapons and tried to follow the sounds and movements in the forest. As soon as they caught a flash of white horn, they were distracted by a neigh or a clomp from elsewhere.
'There must be dozens of them,' said Gan.
'Do not attack,' Ardeth said tersely, her eyes darting to each Antiquarian and to Gan. 'Do not help him.' Leng ignored her. Perhaps he could not even hear her. His eyes and face were red with anger and hate, and he stared into the wall of water before them.
The low roar of the water increased to a scream like a hurricane. The spray from the waterfall intensified, hitting them like hailstones. Storm clouds gathered overhead where the sky had been blue moments before, electricity dancing from cloud to cloud. The Run flowed higher, faster. A wind began to howl, a mix of anguish and a war cry. They felt something whirl around them, some presence, some intelligence.
'Nature is in revolt,' Nithinial whimpered to himself. The half-elf drew his dagger from its sheath and ran it along his palm, drawing blood. The pain helped him focus.
With a mighty clap, a lightning bolt coursed down from the clouds above, aimed at the spot where they all stood. But the energy could not penetrate Leng's layers of defenses, and danced like a wreath of fire above their heads before dissipating harmlessly.
Inside the waterfall, something large began to move. The surface of the falling water rippled and changed, slowly taking shape.
'At last!' Leng cried through gritted teeth. 'It has come to face me!'
A creature stepped out of the moving curtain, as tall as the waterfall itself and composed entirely of the rushing water, bound in place by some great force of magic. With slow, stately steps it walked out of the waterfall, inexorably moving toward them. It rippled and changed, taking shape.
A gigantic unicorn.
'Obvious choice,' Leng said through gritted teeth.
'What is it?' asked Gunton. It splashed forward, its aqueous horn nodding up and down with each step.
'It is the Unicorn Run,' Leng said. 'The fey spirit of this place—all of its power embodied in a single form.'
'How do you fight such a thing?' asked Royce.
'You don't,' Ardeth supplied, watching as it came closer.
Leng pulled down a column of flame from the sky, just as he had done to the treant. The fire met the water and coursed along the liquid surface of the unicorn, drawing sharp hisses and releasing a vast plume of steam that rose into the air. The great unicorn shrank back under the attack, clearly harmed in some way, but still came closer.
'What do we do?' shouted Royce to Ardeth. His eyes darted to the banks—everywhere he looked, a unicorn seemed to emerge, showing that the way was barred. 'I doubt that this matter is open to discussion, and the unicorns will kill us easily!'
'Don't fight,' Ardeth repeated, never taking her eyes off their vast foe.
Their enemy transformed. Its flesh morphed from water to stone, becoming a huge living cliff of brown and red rock, casting a long dark shadow. Its four feet seemed to be planted directly into the ground beneath it. The ground did not shake as it walked; rather, the earth seemed to swell up to embrace it when it stepped on the
