City of the Dead (34 page)

The phantom raised his head, looking over the City of the Dead. Then he contemplated Sophraea.

“A Carver, are you not?” he said with the calmest voice he had used all night.

“Yes, my lord,” she answered with a steady voice although her hand trembled on Gustin’s shoulder.

The phantom nodded slowly. “No blood?” he asked to make sure.

“The dead are returning to their graves,” she said. “But if we create any more disturbance, we will never quiet them down.”

A sour expression flitted across his ghastly features.

“Very well, Grandson, you live tonight,” he said. “But this is the end of your tricks. I trust the Carvers will keep an eye on your activities from now on and keep you from any more foolish actions.”

“I promise, my lord,” said Sophraea quickly, before Lord Adarbrent could answer. “No more raising of the dead.”

The phantom gave a curt nod and decreed, “But there must still be punishment. Grandson, I forbid you to rest with the family. When your death comes, let the Carvers find you a grave far from the Adarbrents. You are banished from burial near us.”

Lord Adarbrent bowed his head in acquiesce.

With a swirl of its rotted black cape, the ghost of Royus Adarbrent faded away from view. Where he had stood, the snow was smooth and white and free of any marks.

“That’s it? That’s all?” Rampage Stunk bounded up to them. “You ruin my business with your tricks. You try to steal my tomb! And you just get banished from your family plot!”

“This tomb was never meant to be yours in the first place,” returned Lord Adarbrent hotly.

“You miserable old man,” screamed Stunk. “If that ghost won’t kill you, I will!”

He charged at Lord Adarbrent, dragging a dagger out of his belt.

“Stop him!” Sophraea yelled at the topiary dragon. Frost flew as the creature swept its tail in a wide arc. The prickly end crashed against Stunk’s shins, tripping him into the snow.

The rest ofthe Carvers swept past the topiary dragon to encircle Lord Adarbrent, creating a wall of solid Carver flesh between him and the furious Stunk.

Sputtering, the fat man struggled to his feet.

“I will destroy you!” he screamed at Lord Adarbrent. “And your friends! I’ll ruin you all.”

As Rampage Stunk continued to rant, Sophraea helped Gustin to his feet.

“Do you have any spells left?” she asked him.

“A light to see us home,” he answered with a quick hug. “And a whirlwind spell. Although, after all that knocking about, I might not be able to manage more than a small breeze. Maybe you should give me another kiss, just to warm me up.” .

“That’s enough of your teasing,” Sophraea answered him, although she almost kissed him despite the fact her entire family was watching this exchange closely. “It’s time to go home. But I don’t want Stunk following us.”

“I can help with that,” Gustin told her.

Rampage Stunk was still screaming at Lord Adarbrent. Leaplow growled and raised his big fists to bloody the nose of Rampage Stunk. Sophraea stepped in front of her brother to face down the furious merchant and his tide of threats.

“Get out of my way!” yelled the fat man, rocking back and forth in his wrath.

Sophraea stared him down. “Do you know where you are?”

Rampage blustered back, “What do you mean?”

“You are in the City of the Dead, it is night, and there is only one family in all ofWaterdeep who can always find their way home from this place in the dark. And we are not going to help you!” Sophraea announced.

With that, Gustin loosed his whirlwind to make snow swirl even thicker around Rampage Stunk.

The Carvers disappeared from Stunk’s view, hidden behind a curtain of snow.

Sophraea grabbed Gustin with one hand and Lord Adarbrent with the other. With the rest of the family following her, she turned toward Dead End House. The snow fell heavily all around them, muffling their footsteps as they swept around the corner of the Deepwinter tomb.

In the light kindled from Gustin’s magic, Sophraea saw the shallow steps that led up from the path to the hole in the wall carved out long ago by her family. With a sigh of relief, she led her friends and family safely out of the City of the Dead.

The shouts and screams of Rampage Stunk escalated behind them, but none of the Carvers looked back. Crashing sounds drifted across the silent graveyard as the fat man blundered down one path and then another.

“Will the dead claim him?” Gustin asked.

“No,” said Sophraea, seeing again all the ghosts of the City of the Dead. Some still drifted along the pathways. There was mischief in the darkness but no malice, no hatred, anymore. “They may tease and trick him, as they will any who wander unprotected, but they will not seek blood tonight. I am sure of it.”

Briarsting and the topiary dragon escorted the Carvers as far as their gate.

“Try to keep him from falling into an open grave,” Sophraea said to the thorn, as the sounds of Stunk’s blundering grew fainter and farther away.

The little man shook his head at her. “You need a harder heart, girl,” he said, “or all your enemies will outlive you.”

“There’s nothing finer than a tender heart,” Gustin answered him.

Sophraea blushed as Briarsting responded, “Yes, but you think she’s perfection already. Keep her safe, wizard!”

“I’ll keep myself safe,” Sophraea answered with her usual spirit.

“But let me help with that task, it’s been so much fun these past few tendays,” Gustin whispered in her ear, making her blush even harder.

“Hey,” said Leaplow, “what are you saying to my sister? Do we need to have a talk?”

“No!” said Sophraea so emphatically that the rest of the family laughed. She shoved Leaplow up the stairs. “You leave Gustin alone! No fights! No bets! No wrestling matches! He’s a friend!”

The rest of the family chuckled as Sophraea scolded her brother all the way into the center of the courtyard.

Once everyone was through the Dead End gate, Astute Carver dragged a few boards from the wreckage left from their battle and propped the lumber before the opening. The black-and-white Carver cat twined around his legs in greeting and then slipped past him to sniff at the temporary barrier.

“We’ll need to reforge the gate,” said Perspicacity. .

“In the morning, Brother,” answered Judicious with a pat on his shoulder. .

“In the morning,” agreed Astute in his usual calm voice.

“Sophraea Carver, your skirts are soaked through,” said her mother. “Come inside, and tell us your adventures.”

“Yes, Sophraea,” said Bentnor. “Where have you been, little cousin?”

And suddenly she and Gustin were surrounded by her swarm of a family, big, warm, and loving. Exclaiming, arguing, hugging, as they recounted their battles with Stunk and the dead.

“Stunk thought he could steal our ledger!” yelled one cousin.

“He thought he could control the City of the Dead, buy and sell tombs in it like houses in Waterdeep!” shouted an aunt.

“Guess he knows different now,” said several Carvers together.

“Come on,” said Sophraea to Gustin, “let’s find something to eat.”

“Maybe your grandmother can make soup and toasted bread,” Gustin responded.

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Leaplow said, clapping the wizard on the back and making Gustin stagger. “I could eat a whole loaf! With cheese melted across the top! Fighting always makes me hungry.”

The next morning, Sophraea stood in the snow, watching her uncles rehang the Dead End gate. Perspicacity had forged extra flourishes and twists to the iron bars and Judicious had supplied a beautifully polished brass knob and lock. Astute and Sagacious helped them hang it while Vigilant gave them plenty of advice.

“Well, doesn’t that look fine,” said Gustin, making his way carefully across the slippery cobblestones. Although the storm had passed, the air was still unusually cold and the snow was very heavy on the ground.

Sophraea nodded. “They thought they’d do it a little fancier, knowing it wouldn’t be broken any time soon,” she explained. “No signs of haunts during the night?” he asked. “None at all. Everything has been quiet.”

“There you are! I thought you were going to sleep the day away!” A voice sounded high above their heads.

Sophraea looked up. Briarsting stood on the wall between the graveyard and Dead End House. A Carver cat walking along the wall hissed at him but turned tail with a mew when the little man poked his sword at it.

“What are you doing there?” Sophraea asked.

“Waiting for you two. You left some trash in the City of the Dead last night,” the thorn replied. “We’d consider it a favor if you’d get it out.”

“Stunk,” said Sophraea.

“And others,” answered Briarsting. “A few of his guards made it as far as a public gate last night, and the City Watch dragged them

out this morning. But Stunk and a couple of others are still up in the north end.”

“We’ll help,” said Sophraea, her always troublesome conscience pricking her to find the fat man and lead him out of the City of the Dead.

“Best we come with you,” said Judicious, when she explained to her uncles why she needed them to open the gate just after they had gotten it hung to their satisfaction.

“I’ll go with you too,” said Gustin.

“Do you have any spells today?” she asked him.

“Lots,” he said, sending a spark flying off his fingertips. “I had a wonderful supper last night, a good sleep in a soft bed, and a fine breakfast complete with your grandmother’s rolls!”

“I noticed you managed one more than Leaplow,” Sophraea teased as they went down the stairs into the City of the Dead.

“I felt I deserved it,” answered Gustin without shame.

Great drifts of snow still decorated the tombs in the City of the Dead. The place was hushed and subdued after all the excitement of the night. The guardgoyles perched on the edges of mausoleums had tucked their heads beneath their wings. The weeping warrior once more covered her face with her hand. The perpetual flames burned low and steady while the fountains burbled softly under their crusting of ice.

Sophraea let her vision expand until she could see all the City of the Dead. Wherever she looked, she saw only peace and stillness. The noble dead were quiet and content at last.

“It’s really a pretty place,” observed Gustin as they crunched through the snow.

“It’s beautiful in the spring,” answered Sophraea. “When the trees bud out and the new leaves appear. And summer, well, in the summer, it’s the coolest and most lovely place in all ofWaterdeep. Families come in the summer, just to walk along the paths and admire the flowers.”

“You know, I still haven’t seen the monuments at the south end,” Gustin said. “The famous ones that everyone is supposed to go look at.”

“I’ll take you,” Sophraea promised.

“Good,” said Gustin, tucking her hand through his arm.

The topiary dragon bounded up to the party, sending sprays of snow over all of them with enthusiastic sweeps of its tail.

“Call it off, call it off,” sputtered Sophraea, wiping snow off her face for the second time.

“Sorry,” said Briarsting. “The old boy had an exciting night and he hasn’t quite calmed down yet.”

Sophraea’s uncles were inclined to pause and admire the shaping of the topiary dragon.

“Didn’t Fidelity work on this one?” Judicious asked his brother.

“Think so. There’re sure to be details in the ledger. I’d forgotten that there were any left in the graveyard. Thought that they’d all gone to seed long ago,” answered Perspicacity. “Nice to see that this one survived.”

Sophraea urged everyone on.

“We should find Stunk,” she said.

“If you say so, pet,” answered Perspicacity.

Following Briarsting’s directions, they discovered Rampage Stunk at the far north end of the City of the Dead. He lay curled against a tombstone and whimpered when Sophraea placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder.

Although he had only been lost for one night, the fat man’s ruined physique bore the marks of magical mischief.

“Not everyone was completely in their graves when he blundered past them,” explained Briarsting. “Nothing deadly, but the ghosts never did like him trying to empty out those tombs.”

Rampage Stunk’s once black hair had been stripped of its glossy

dye and was completely white. The merchant’s face bore numerous small scratches, as if he’d been dragged through bushes. Most strange of all, he appeared to be half his original weight, and apparently he had aged by many yean.

“Saer, saer, can you get up?” Sophraea tugged at the merchant’s clothing, only to have the rich cloth tear away under her hands. Looking closer, Sophraea saw that all of Stunk’s clothing was as rotted as if it had been buried for several years.

“I don’t think he knows us,” said Gustin, peering closely into Stunk’s face. The merchant mewled under his examination, turning his head away and hiding it in his hands.

“Will he be all right?” Sophraea asked. She had not meant for so terrible a vengeance to fall upon Stunk.

“There’s healing for such things,” said Gustin, straightening up. “But it will take some time. He’s still alive and that’s a greater mercy than he was prepared to show Lord Adarbrent or your family.”

“There’re some others over here!” called Briarsting.

Poking under snowy bushes and peering around tombstones, Sophraea discovered the remainder of Rampage’s thugs in various states of distress. Although not as bad as Rampage, they were all relieved to be found.

“Can you show us the way out of here?” asked one redheaded goon in a very small voice.

“Yes, yes, not to worry,” answered Judicious. “Just help us carry this poor fellow away.” He heaved Stunk up on his shoulders.

“We’ll take him home,” Judicious said to Sophraea. “And explain to his lady what has happened. I know her. We’ve built coffins for her family for years and done all their burials. She did not marry well, but she is a lady for all that.”

“I’ll go home,” said Sophraea, “and let the others know.”

“Do you want me to go with your uncles? I might be able to make some suggestions to the lady for her husband’s care,” said Gustin.