Amlaruil nodded. She took his hand, and smiled. “Then I suppose I will go. Thank you for hearing me out.”
“You are welcome in my stable any time you care to visit it, Your Majesty,” Seiveril replied.
Amlaruil laughed, and turned to go. Her gown glittered like starlight in the gathering dusk. But at the moonstone archway marking the garden’s entrance, she paused and looked back at him.
“One other matter I meant to mention,” she said. “I have heard that one of your captains wields Keryvian, the last of Demron’s baneblades. I knew the sword was in your possession, but I thought that it had answered to no hand since the fall of Myth Drannor.”
“Yes. I gave Keryvian into the keeping of my captain, Starbrow.”
“I do not know him,” Amlaruil said with a frown. Seiveril could understand her confusion. Any champion with skill and experience enough to merit such trust would have been known to her in Evermeet. “You must hold him in high regard indeed.”
“He is not who he seems to be.”
Amlaruil studied him for a moment, and her eyes widened.
“It can’t be Fflar,” she whispered. “Not after so many years.”
“Please, do not speak of this,” Seiveril asked. “He prefers to remain just Starbrow for now.”
“Seiveril, you can’t simply resurrect dead heroes when you need them! And he died so long ago.”
Seiveril glanced up at the darkening skies. “It wasn’t entirely my own idea.”
Amlaruil measured him, her expression stern. “You spoke of my mandate earlier. I sincerely hope you have the mandate you think you do. If you are wrong about what you’re doing, the consequences would be disastrous.”
She swept away into the dusk, leaving Seiveril alone in his garden.
The cleric sat down on the bench again, and watched the first dim stars emerging overhead.
“I hope I do, too,” he murmured.
Five days of hard travel brought Araevin, Ilsevele, Maresa, and Filsaelene from Silverymoon to the ruins of Myth Glaurach. Spring rains drenched them for several days, until Araevin began to wonder whether it would be better to seek some form of magical travel to speed their journey. But he disliked teleporting unless he felt that he absolutely had to do so-sometimes teleportation magic went awry, after all.
Fortunately, they found villages and inns for much of their journey-first along the road from Silverymoon to Everlund, then at Lhuvenhead and Jalanthar. From Jalanthar, at the east end of the Rauvin vale, they struck out south and east through Turnstone Pass, and arrived at the ruins of Myth Glaurach an hour after sunset. As before, the ancient city was ringed with the lanterns and modest campfires of the elven army, a cheerful sight after days of riding.
Araevin and his companions left their horses at a large camp corral where the cavalry companies of the Crusade housed their steeds, and climbed up Myth Glaurach’s winding old footpaths, which circled steadily as they ascended the forest-covered hilltop on which the city stood. Small encampments of elf warriors and patrols of vigilant guards filled the old city, calling out friendly greetings as they passed by. With a few questions Araevin and his companions learned that Starbrow and Vesilde Gaerth were currently in charge of the army, since Seiveril Miritar was away on Evermeet, and that the commanders were headquartered in the city’s old library.
They found Starbrow and Gaerth poring over supply and equipment records, wrestling with the question of how to feed and arm not only the warriors of the army-elf warriors in a forest could get along for quite some time with few stores, and most had brought their own weapons and armor-but also the thousands of horses and the more exotic creatures that accompanied the army.
The two commanders made an odd pair. Starbrow was nearly six and a half feet tall and about as burly as a moon elf ever got, while the sun elf Vesilde Gaerth was a full foot shorter and slight of build. Starbrow looked up as they entered, and grinned.
“I was wondering where you were,” he said. “I was about to have Jorildyn cast another sending for you.”
“It’s a long ride from Silverymoon,” Ilsevele replied. She wrung out the hem of her cloak, leaving a puddle of cold water on the floor, and glared at Starbrow. “You had better have a good reason for sending for us.”
Vesilde Gaerth raised his hand in greeting. “Mage Teshurr, Lady Ilsevele, welcome back! I am glad to see you. Not to speak for Captain Starbrow, but I think we have a sound reason for seeking Araevin’s expertise. Our mages have had no luck with opening the portals the daemonfey left behind.”
“I’ll have a look first thing in the morning,” Araevin promised. “Right now we’re all tired, cold, and wet, and I wouldn’t say no to a hot meal and a mug of mulled wine, if anything like that can be found around here.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a tenday,” Maresa added.
“Of course. I’ll see if our quartermasters can find something for you.”
Vesilde called for an aide, who then headed off in search of some food and good accommodations for Araevin and his companions.
“We heard that my father went to Evermeet,” Ilsevele asked Starbrow. “Do you know when he will return?”
“Three or four days, most likely. He said there was one more council meeting he wanted to attend before he came back-but if you find something in the portals, he’ll return at once.”
Araevin and his friends dined with Vesilde and Starbrow, listening to the commanders’ accounts of the Crusade’s fruitless search for any sign of the daemonfey and the discovery of the hidden portals in Sarya’s buried vaults. Then they were shown to an old ruined chapel, its long-vanished roof replaced by well-secured canvas to make a reasonably warm and dry room in which to camp.
In the dark hours before dawn, Araevin roused himself from Reverie, found his spellbooks, and chose a small alcove of the old temple to illuminate with a pale light spell while he studied his spells of portal lore. When the sun came up, he joined the others for a breakfast of dried fruit and porridge provided by the quartermasters of the army.
“Arm yourselves for battle,” Araevin told them after they ate. “If we try our luck with an unknown portal, we might step through into the fight of our lives.”
While they were arming themselves, Starbrow appeared in the chapel’s old doorway. He wore a long green cloak over his shoulders with Keryvian belted to his waist, and he carried a large rucksack. The moon elf looked them over, and grinned.
“You certainly look ready,” he said.
Araevin looked at Starbrow in surprise. “You’re coming with us?”
“Unless you tell me not to.”
“Aren’t you needed here?” Ilsevele asked. “My father left the army in your hands, after all.”
“Actually, he left Lord Gaerth in command. I’m just his second. Besides, we’ve been sitting here for days. If there’s even the slightest chance that we might sniff out the daemonfey, I want to be a part of it.”
“I’ve seen his work with that sword of his,” Maresa observed to Filsaelene. The genasi set her hands on her hips, her crimson leather armor gleaming darkly. “I’m not going to tell him we don’t need him.”
“Very well,” Araevin answered. “Let’s have a look at these portals you found. It may be a short trip if I can’t open them.”
Starbrow laughed out loud, then he led the small company into the streets of Myth Glaurach. A short walk brought them to the onetime palace of the city’s rulers. It was an impressive ruin, with great gaping arches and broken towers reaching to the gray skies.
“The grand mage’s palace,” Starbrow said. “The daemonfey used it as their stronghold.”
They climbed up the shattered steps to the open foyer, passed through into a courtyard within the overgrown walls, and there found a stone stairway deep in the palace, descending into the darkness below. Araevin frowned, and steeled himself. He knew all too well the vaults and passages beneath the palace, as did his companions.
Starbrow’s soldiers had illuminated the dark passageway with small lanterns, and they followed the string of lanternlit hallways and stairs as they descended deeper and deeper into the cold rock of the hillside. They passed several contingents of guards, vigilant elves who stood watch in case some undetected evil emerged from a hidden depth of Sarya’s dungeons.
“Have you had any trouble down here?” Araevin asked.
“We’ve found a couple of magical traps-spell glyphs, symbols, things like that,” Starbrow replied. “But we
