destination?' he asked Halzoon.
'Two, three days,' the werebat said. 'I don't know why you want to go there. I know the place, and there's nothing to say about it.'
'We have a key,' said Gan, holding up the axe.
Halzoon scratched his head, uninterested.
'And you know exactly where we're going?' asked Gunton.
Halzoon nodded. 'I scouted these tunnels for Bloodmaster Heskret. I know the way.'
'I can only hope that a werebat will have good senses underground,' said Ardeth.
'We Antiquarians have experience in tunnels as well,' boasted Royce, but Halzoon soon humbled Royce and Gunton. He led the foursome through a maze of ancient tunnels, shored by the occasional stone pillar. The werebat frequently stopped to sniff the air or turn an ear to a vacant passageway, apparently navigating on sheer instinct. Some of the tunnels were coursing with wind from the outside, while others were silent as if they'd not been visited in millennia.
Halzoon was a strange creature. He was more bat than elf, clearly. His posture was stooped, and he was a mass of tics—he could not keep still for a second, scratching, twitching, and sniffing.
'You said there are harpies here,' said Ardeth as they climbed down a twisting staircase deep into the bowels of the mountains.
'No,' Halzoon answered.
'But you said...'
'Harpies lived here, but no more. Scared off, they left and are all gone.'
'What scared them off?' asked Gunton.
'The dragon.'
'Dragon?' Royce said. 'You mean Elaacrimalicros?'
'No!' Halzoon insisted. 'Onskarrarrd.'
'Who?'
'Deep dragon. He moved here after the fall of Ched Nasad last year. Onskarrarrd lairs down below.'
'Tremendous,' said Royce, dropping his voice to a whisper. 'We're evading one dragon above, only to intrude on another one below. You might have mentioned that.'
'No worry,' said Halzoon. 'He is sleeping now.'
'How do you know that?' asked Ardeth.
Halzoon pressed an ear to the wall. 'Can't you hear?' he asked. 'He's snoring!'
'You should have mentioned this,' Royce said, new anxiety in his voice.
'Why, human?' asked the werebat. 'Would you have preferred to stay out there?' He squeaked with laughter.
* * * * *
The Uthgardt pushed their way through the High Forest with new urgency. The Star Mounts drew ever closer, cold and forbidding, and their clouds spread out to douse them all with hard rain.
No one said much since Keirkrad had been taken. They wondered whether the werebats had been hired— most likely by the Zhentarim—to capture one of them for interrogation, perhaps to learn where they were going.
'Malar,' spat Thluna. 'Blast his hide.'
As they pushed through the pouring rain, Thluna vividly remembered a single day on the cracked earth of the Fallen Lands. All their troubles seemed to stem from that day. The wizard Arklow had spoken of creatures called the phaerimm, monsters of magic who could ensnare the mind of any creature. Thluna had feared that would be their fate—the Thunderbeasts would be made vassals to another foul power.
But with Arklow's help and directions, the Thunderbeasts had slaughtered the dark naga who led the phaerimm forces and fled as a massive orc army fell into infighting. Their victory was swiftly tangled with defeat, as Arklow revealed that magic lay in many of the tribe's weapons, including Sungar's ceremonial axe. The Thunderbeasts responded by leaving those weapons in the Fallen Lands.
Thluna looked at the oaken club he now clutched, given to him by Gunther Longtooth. It had hurt the werebats when other weapons had not. Thluna knew that the club must be magical, just like the axe. But he would not dream of disposing of it. It was a gift. Moreover, it was an outstanding weapon.
'When we were seeking out Grandfather Tree,' Rask told Thluna as they walked together, 'we knew that the Blue Bears were doing the same. We did our best to give them false leads, lure them into traps, counter them wherever we could. And, thanks be to Uthgar, we reached the Tree before they did. But at the same time, our enemy helped legitimize our quest.'
'What do you mean?' asked Thluna.
'Think of what we're doing now. You quest for your living behemoths. This might seem foolhardy to outsiders, something important only to your tribe. But clearly, this is not the case. If the Zhentarim want your secrets, your secrets must be very important indeed.'
'I had not thought of it that way,' said Thluna. 'The Zhentarim have taken great interest in us. Why? Aren't we beneath their notice?'
'A mystery indeed,' Rask confirmed. 'Nothing moves the Zhentarim but power. I knew their workings all too well... they are brutal and cruel, and Geildarr is a petty despot. But contrary to what some would say, they do not practice their vile ways for no reason. They want power, and for power they hoard their coin and whatever else magic can find.'
'Magic,' Thluna repeated fatefully. At the core of all the evil in the world, he decided, there was magic.
'A mystery indeed,' the half-orc repeated. 'I only hope we live long enough to solve it.'
* * * * *
'I never thought I had anything to hide,' said Kellin softly.
'What's that?' asked Vell. They walked together through the underbrush, the Thunderbeast party fanning out around them. Rask and Thluna walked in the lead while Thanar held back, scanning the woods for signs of anything lurking among the trees.
Kellin swallowed. 'Until recently, I never had secrets—not any that anyone would care to know. I was as open and forthcoming as anyone could be, and that felt like freedom. When I came to your camp, I kept part of myself hidden, but I could justify that to myself. I knew that if I revealed that I was a sorceress you'd reject me, and my journey would end before it began.'
'You were right,' Vell affirmed.
Kellin forced a smile. Keeping her voice low, she asked, 'But am I right this time? What I know about my father...'
'Has nothing to do with you. You are not your father.'
He cast her a sideways glance.
'A curious statement from an Uthgardt,' she said. 'Tell me about your father, Vell.'
Vell stood a little taller. Out of pride? Kellin wondered. 'He fought with King Gundar. He died when I was young, fighting perytons in the Lurkwood. He was buried with honor outside Grunwald.'
'My father's body was burned, and his ashes spread into the Trackless Sea at Candlekeep. He wanted to unite with the sea, with everything.' Kellin frowned. 'As I keep my father's shame a secret, it becomes my shame. Maybe I should tell Thluna.'
Vell thought about it. 'Thluna's younger even than I. He's already proven himself less rigid than Sungar. But all the same, I would not do it. Not now.'
A tear rolled down Kellin's cheek. 'Why should I bear his shame?' She laid her hand on the hilt of the sword she wore. 'I took him as my teacher. How he fooled us all. Even Keirkrad said he was a good man.' Vell could see she was holding back her emotions, and he put a hand on her shoulder.
'What will you do when you return home?' asked Vell.
'I'll have to reveal what I've learned to the Candlekeep monks. It will cast doubt on all of his research. His
