Avenger

“Yes, I understand,” Mirya said in a weak voice.

“Good. Now you will forget that we have spoken today, and carry on about your business as you normally would until you meet Geran Hulmaster again. Give no sign or indication to anybody what you intend, and do your best to conceal what you have done until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Mirya repeated.

“Very well. Bastion, unbind her.” Rhovann waited for the golem to free her wrists before finishing. “Now return home. If anyone asks what you were doing at the castle, you will say that you were questioned about Geran’s expedition against the Black Moon pirates. Supply whatever details are necessary to allay suspicion. You may go.”

Mirya’s eyes cleared, and she frowned. Without another word to Rhovann, she let herself out of the laboratory and hurried away. Rhovann returned his wand to his belt, feeling quite pleased with his own cleverness. Whatever else the next few tendays brought, Geran’s days of skulking around unnoticed in Hulburg were at end.

NINETEEN

27 Alturiak, the Year of Deep Water Drifting (1480 DR)

For days, Geran, Hamil, and Sarth rode as hard as they dared to push their mounts, hoping to outdistance any possible pursuit from Myth Drannor. Geran didn’t believe that the coronal’s warriors had any special reason to pursue them with a vengeance, but he couldn’t rule out the possibility that the Disarnnyls would make every effort to keep him from escaping justice. If he allowed himself to be recaptured, there would be no leniency from the coronal-of that much he was certain. Ilsevele might have been able to arrange matters with the Council of Justice given time, but he couldn’t see that she’d entertain any pleas for understanding after he’d gone to such lengths to flee her authority. Deciding that it would be better all around to leave Myth Drannor as swiftly as possible, Geran urged his companions to the best speed they could make, hoping that no guard companies were in position to intercept them.

Early on the morning of the third day, they emerged from the great forest of Cormanthor into the open lands along the southeast coast of the Moonsea. These lands had been settled long before, but large parts of the countryside had fallen into ruin in the last century, pillaged in wars between the surrounding cities and finally swept clean by the Spellplague. Sarth reined in and rubbed at his back with a small groan. He was not a good rider, and the last few days had been a sore trial for him. “I would not have believed it possible, but we seem to have gained our freedom,” the tiefling said. “Which way now? To Hillsfar?”

Geran brought his horse to a halt alongside Sarth. “I’m afraid we can’t slow down yet. Myth Drannor might not claim any land beyond the forest, but that doesn’t mean her warriors wouldn’t pursue us beyond the woods.”

“Do you really think they’re chasing us?” Hamil asked.

“The coronal doesn’t have a choice. She has to show that she won’t play favorites, and letting us go when she might still catch us wouldn’t look good at all. We might have fooled them by coming through the woods, but I think it’s wisest to assume they’re close behind us until we know they aren’t.” Geran glanced at the dark line of forest behind them.

“So, as Sarth said a moment ago: Which way now?” Hamil asked. “Do we head for Hillsfar anyway, or do we ride around the Moonsea and strike for Phlan?”

Geran thought it over for a moment. “Hillsfar. But let’s stay off the roads and stick to the countryside as much as we can.”

They continued on their way, heading northeast across the empty countryside. Keeping the dark edge of the forest a few miles to their right, they rode through long-abandoned fields divided by crumbling stone walls and hedgerows, and a little before noon the next day they spotted the walls and rooftops of Hillsfar. Geran allowed himself a long sigh of relief; Myth Drannor’s agents might soon learn where they’d gone, but taking them into custody would be another matter altogether-the city’s authorities would never permit the elves to arrest fugitives who hadn’t broken any Hillsfarian laws. Geran and his friends went to the city’s docks and booked passage on the first vessel bound for Thentia, then returned to the city’s mercantile district to sell their mounts and await their sailing in a comfortable inn.

With a day and a half to pass before their ship sailed, Sarth retired to one of the inn’s private rooms and made a careful study of their Infiernadex fragment, something he’d been unable to do during their brief rests during the flight from Myth Drannor. Geran left him to it for several hours, busying himself with several minor errands around the city. When he returned, he found Sarth busily copying the fragment to fresh parchment.

“What have you learned from Aesperus’s spellbook?” Geran asked him.

“First of all, it is not Aesperus’s spellbook,” Sarth answered. “Rather, it is an older spellbook that was in Aesperus’s possession for a time. Much of what I know about the complete manuscript comes from the writings of mages who had an opportunity to examine the tome before it fell into Aesperus’s hands. That is what led me to Hulburg in the first place. In any event, the Infiernadex is the work of one of my forebears from ancient Narfell, recording several rituals and spells not found anywhere else. Many of those are diabolic in nature, and too dangerous even for one of my blood to wield safely. Others are simply rare and powerful; those I hoped to master.” The tiefling managed an awkward shrug. “I have spent most of my life in search of greater command over the arcane arts. Perhaps I have not given much thought to the question of what I intend to do with such power once I hold it.”

“You’ve chosen to save Hulburg at least two or three times in the last few months. That seems a good use for the power you wield.” Geran looked over Sarth’s shoulder at the cryptic pages spread out before him. They meant little to him; he’d been schooled in the elven tradition of magic, and the Infiernadex was based on another tradition, written in another language altogether. Even if he could read it, it might not make much sense to him. “Can we safely give it to Aesperus?” he asked.

The sorcerer looked down at the old parchment, thinking. “Yes,” he finally said. “I am not happy about the prospect, but I’ve learned all I can from this. What does it matter if this knowledge is perilous? Aesperus is a perilous power already. But I must warn you, Geran, that the day may come when the King in Copper must be dealt with.”

“I hear you,” Geran replied. He set a hand on Sarth’s shoulder, and left the sorcerer to finish copying the manuscript.

They sailed for Thentia aboard an Iron Ring tradesman the next day. The crossing was much easier than their last one; the westerly winds were on their quarter instead of their bow, which made for a swifter and easier trip. On the evening of the 6th of Ches, the ninth day since their escape from the coronal’s tower, Geran and his companions set foot in Thentia again. For the first time in a tenday he allowed himself to believe that he wouldn’t spend the next decade or two as a prisoner in Myth Drannor, and began to breathe easier.

They hired a coach to drive them out to Lasparhall, and arrived in the Hulmasters’ manor an hour after sunset. Geran was pleased to see that things looked much as he’d left them. He allowed the guards at the door to relieve him and his friends of their sparse baggage, and went straight to the family’s private hall to see if anything remained of dinner. While the three of them helped themselves to a late supper laid out by the kitchen staff, Kara Hulmaster appeared in the doorway. The Hulmaster captain threw off the heavy mantle she wore over her armored shoulders and hurried in to catch Geran in a bone-cracking hug. “Geran!” she cried. “I was worried about you. Where have you been?”

“Well met, Kara,” he replied. “We landed in Thentia a couple of hours ago. As for the delay, well, I’m afraid we ran into some difficulties in Myth Drannor.”

“We managed to get pinched, he means,” Hamil said. “We spent a charming seven days as guests of the coronal before escaping her jail and absenting ourselves from the realm as quickly as possible. Fortunately Geran had friends willing to help spring us free, or we’d be there still.”

“I should have known that you’d find trouble wherever you went.” Kara released Geran and moved on to Hamil, leaning down to give him a warm embrace before moving on to take Sarth’s hand. “Did you find the tome