The Summoning (7 page)

Galaeron came up coughing, and found Vala holding her boot coyly in one hand. “What’s the matter, elf?” She gave him one of those hungry human smiles, then tossed the boot on the bank. “Still too dirty?”

“Not at all.” Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, Galaeron turned toward the bank. “My house is not far. We’ll break our fast and see to cleaning your clothes and armor later.”

They all climbed out of the water and bundled their armor inside their cloaks. Without their clothes, the humans looked a lot less intimidating and drew far fewer sneers, and it was not long before they reached the summit of Goldmorn Knoll. Located well into the interior of Evereska, the knoll was not as high as the Three Sisters nor as large, but it was home to a sizable grove of rare sycamore trees that had left Cormyr during the Time of Troubles and sought refuge in Evereska. Galaeron could not help smiling when he recalled the sight of that endless line of trees marching past his camp along the Desert Border and vanishing into the Sharaedim. He came to the base of Starmeadow Tower—before the sycamores arrived, it had stood in the heart of a favorite meadow for stargazing—and pointed at a hole-shaped doorway seventy feet above.

“There is my home. If you are ever lost in the city, ask for Treetop in Starmeadow, and you will be returned here.”

Treetop,” repeated Dexon. The burly human craned his neck, watching a pair of elves crawl past the doorway head-down. “Where’s the ladder?”

Galaeron smiled. “There is no need for ladders in Evereska.”

He tucked his armor under one arm, then pressed one palm and the sole of the opposite foot to the wall. Thanks to the magic of the mythal, they held fast to the stone, and he began to climb.

“Always use bare skin. Never wear gloves or shoes.”

Vala and the others watched him warily for a few moments, then finally pressed their own palms to the wall and started to follow. They were even more delighted than at the pond, and it was not long before they were embarrassing Galaeron with excited whoops and yodels.

Only Melegaunt, who in truth looked like he needed to use more muscle and less magic, did not seem to relish the experience. He stood on the ground for several moments trying to cast a flying spell, which failed as utterly as had his

drying magic, then he finally gave up and clambered up the wall. By the time he joined Galaeron and the others beside the door, he was huffing and puffing so heavily he could hardly speak. Galaeron showed the humans the safest way to enter and leave a door hole, which was to approach it from the side rather than clamber over the bottom, and entered.

Inside Treetop was airy and light, all smooth curves and softly glowing walls. A staircase swirled down from the upper floors, rounded a corner in the foyer before them, and flowed into the lower house. Along the walls sat benches of white marble and tables of translucent alabaster, often with a delicately embossed vase or ethereal statuette placed carefully on top.

Galaeron’s youngest sister, eighty-year-old Keya, appeared in the doorway.

“Galaeron!” She rushed across the room in a streak of long blue hair and gold-threaded gown and embraced him. “Glad homeagain! This past year has seemed a tenwinter!”

Happy for a change to hear nothing about his lost patrol or how his chances with the tomb master are better than he thinks, Galaeron dropped his armor and hugged her to his chest.

“Keya! More the lady each time I see you.” He held the embrace for a moment, then disengaged himself and turned to present his companions. “The Hill Elders have asked me to care for these guests.”

“I know.” Keya took one look at the looming mounds of hairy flesh and said, “I’m sure one of your tunics will fit the woman.”

“Vala,” said Vala. She offered her free hand and studied Keya as though sizing up an object of prey. “Well met.”

Keya retreated from the stocky appendage in contusion.

“You’re to clasp it,” Galaeron explained. “A human gesture of friendship.”

Keya looked up at Galaeron, her gold-flecked eyes clearly asking if such a thing were truly necessary.

Galaeron took her hand and placed it in Vala’s. “You’ll have to forgive Keya,” he said, laughing. “I’m afraid my sister has never heard humans called anything but thieves and murderers.”

“Sister?” Vala’s expression softened, and she pumped Keya’s hand warmly. “Don’t you believe everything Galaeron says about us. 1 hope you and I will be great friends.”

“I’m sure that would be, urn, interesting. I’ve never had a human friend before.”

Keya turned to the men and reluctantly offered her hand to each in turn, looking slightly puzzled as they blushed and struggled to cover themselves. Even Melegaunt seemed embarrassed, though he did a better job of hiding it than most.

“I can probably find a cloak that will fit the plump one, but these others…” Keya shook her head. “I doubt our blankets are large enough to go around their shoulders.”

“Their waists will do, I think,” said Galaeron. “Is Father here?”

“In the contemplation.” Keya gestured through an archway toward the back of the house, then looked to Melegaunt. “He asks you and Melegaunt to attend him at once. A messenger has arrived from Lord Duirsar.”

“From Duirsar?” Melegaunt allowed himself a superior smile, then started for the archway. “Come to his senses, no doubt.”

“If you would be so kind, Keya ” Galaeron said.

He motioned to Vala and her men, then went after Melegaunt. He steered the wizard through the circular great room, where the family took its meals on the rare occasions when there were enough of them to fill it, then stepped through a broad archway into the contemplation. His father was standing at the back of the tome-filled chamber, staring over the treetops through a theurglass window. A white snow finch sat on his outstretched finger, chirping and tweeting rapidly—no doubt passing along the latest gossip from

Cloudcrown Hill, where the palaces of Lord Duirsar and the great nobles sat scattered among the trees.

Galaeron cleared his throat. “Father? We’ve arrived.”

His father turned at once, a broad grin bringing a little light to his morose eyes. With silver hair and sagging shoulders, he seemed older and smaller than he had the last time Galaeron had been home.

“My son. Glad homeagain.”

The bird chirped a greeting as well, though Galaeron was not versed in peeptalk and could only return it with a polite bob of his head.

Galaeron gestured to Melegaunt. “Meet Melegaunt Tanthul, a human wizard of strange magic and no small power.”

Galaeron’s father inclined his head. “Welcome to Treetop, uh, Wizard Tanthul.”

“1 am a prince in my own city,” said Melegaunt, noting the elder Nihmedu’s uncertainty about how to address him. “But in truth I’ve been away so long I have all but forgotten the fact. Call me Melegaunt.”

“And 1 am Aubric.”

“Well met, Aubric, and my thanks for opening your home to us.” Melegaunt peered around the contemplation, his eyes sliding past the Reverie couch and reading stand as he searched for another person. “I was given to understand there is a messenger?”

Galaeron’s father raised the snow finch on his finger. “This is Manynests, attendant to Lord Duirsar.”

Manynests chipped in greeting, then launched into a long series of tweets and whistles.

“Lord Duirsar sends his greetings and salutations,” translated Galaeron’s father. “He reports that Evereska’s wizards—: A peep from Manynests prompted him to correct himself. —that our high mages required over an hour to solve your shadow maze.”

Melegaunt’s eyes widened. “Only an hour?”

The bird began twittering again, and Galaeron’s father

translated, “Lord Duirsar was surprised that it took them that long. He sends his compliments and inquires whether you would be willing to supply them with the passwords for the traps in the dwarven workings. As entertaining as the high mages find your work, there is a certain element of time involved.”

“Yes, of course.” So shocked was Melegaunt that he dropped onto the Reverie couch, drawing a wince from both Nihmedus as his hairy rear touched the pristine marble. The first is purpledusk, the second darkmorn.”

“Purpledusk and darkmorn?” Galaeron’s father repeated, translating for Manynests.

When Melegaunt nodded, the bird peeped its thanks and took wing, darting through the theurglass window almost before the elder Nihmedu could utter the command word rendering it permeable.

Galaeron went to Melegaunt’s side and said, “You surprised me, but it’s good that you did not try to use the passwords to coerce your way into battle.”

Melegaunt’s eyes were still round with shock. “It wouldn’t have been much of a coercion. If it only took an hour to break the shadow maze, they would have been through the other spells by midmorn.”

“Still, it speaks well of your intentions that you did not hesitate,” said the elder Nihmedu. “Manynests will report your cooperation, and that will count for much when the Hill Elders discuss the matter of your crypt breaking.”

“I hope it will count for as much as Lord Imesfor’s anger,” said Galaeron. “I happened across Zharilee and Gvendor when we bathed, and the Golds have already begun to discuss Louenghris’s death.”

A cloud came over his father’s eyes. “I doubt Louenghris’s death will count against the humans. Manynests tells me that Lord Duirsar is already thinking of suspending Lord Imesfor from any deliberation related to his son’s death. Your fate is a different matter. Kiinyon sent young Imesfor to the Desert

Border for a reason, and he’ll blame you for any ill will that befalls the tomb guards because of the lad’s death.”

“Hell blame me for any trouble he can,” said Galaeron. “He’s already made that much clear—and perhaps I deserve it. I did lose two thirds of my patrol.”

“And did more good than you will ever know.” Melegaunt stood. “I don’t mean to speak immodestly, but had you left me to the phaerimm, it would have been a great loss to the world.”

“Because?” asked the elder Nihmedu.

“Because it would have been a cowardly thing to do,” Melegaunt dodged, no more eager to reveal himself to Lord Nihmedu than to Galaeron. “And your son is no coward. Under the circumstances, he did all that could be asked and more. Kiinyon Colbathin will come to understand that, if he and the others are lucky enough to survive.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about.” Galaeron’s father clasped both Melegaunt and Galaeron on the shoulders and steered them toward the great room. “Kiinyon Colbathin always survives. Now perhaps we should break our fast. With the passwords in hand, the high mages are likely to have the phaerimm destroyed by midmorn, and 1 don’t want you facing the Hill Elders on an empty stomach.”

23Nightal, the Year of the Unstrung Harp

The high mages did not have the Sharn Wall patched by highsun of the twenty-first They did not have it repaired by dusk, nor even deepnight. Grateful for Melegaunt’s earlier aid, Lord Duirsar kept the Nihmedus informed via his bird messengers. Kiinyon lost a company of tomb guards when they bypassed Melegaunt’s second trap and surprised a pair of phaerimm. The high mages slew the two monsters in a flurry of lightning and fire, but the battle left them so exhausted they had to retire to the surface.

Melegaunt sent word to avoid attacking the phaerimm directly, as they could often absorb magic and fling it back at the caster, or use its energy to heal themselves. Lord Duirsar thanked him for the advice and said he would pass it along.

By the time more high mages and another

company of tomb guards teleported from Evereska, half a dozen phaerimm had slipped into the dwarven workings and vanished. Two more companies of tomb guards were teleported in from the Greycloak Hills to track these down. One company was never heard from again. The survivors of the other returned with the good news that they had wounded one of the creatures.

Melegaunt offered to bring Vala and her men and join the battle. Lord Duirsar thanked him for his interest, but said it would be better for them to remain in Evereska. All Evereskan tomb guards were told to report to the College of Magic and Arms. Galaeron was not included in the alert, and Takari had already left for the High Forest. Ehamond and the others were attached to someone else’s patrol.

Kiinyon Colbathin reached the Sharn Wall with ten tomb guards and two of his three high mages. After examining the hole, the mages concluded they needed a third to repair it. Kiinyon, who understood the intricacies of high magic no better than any non-mage, flew into a rage. While he screamed, two phaerimm emerged from beneath Anauroch. During the battle, Kiinyon stumbled across a darksword and used it to slay both phaerimm, freezing his hand but saving one high mage. Before retreating, he had the four survivors of his patrol search the tunnel for more darkswords. They recovered sixteen, which Vala requested be returned to her, as they were family heirlooms passed down for five generations.

Unimpressed by the pedigree, Lord Duirsar nevertheless promised to return the weapons after the battle. Until then, he hoped she would not mind if Tomb Master Colbathin put them to use—and was there anyway to keep the hilts from freezing the hands of those who wielded them? Sadly, there was not The magic was attuned to the family that owned it Melegaunt offered again to join the battle with Vala and her men. Lord Duirsar thanked him for the offer and noted he had suggested the same thing to Kiinyon and the Highest Mage, whose name was never revealed to a human. After

much discussion, it was agreed they would keep the offer in mind, though for now they feared a mixture of fighting methods would cause more problems than it cured. The Vale Guard, the Feather Cavalry, and the Army of Evereska were all placed on alert. All tomb guards capable of teleporting themselves were ordered to report to the Vyshaan cairn at once, and the remainder were ordered to ride for it. There were no longer enough wizards to transport them by spell.

Galaeron tried to relieve his frustration by taking Vala and her humans on walks through Evereska. They visited the Floating Gardens of Aerdrie Faenya, the Groaning Cave, the Tower Higher than Eastpeak—from the top of which they could see the Vyshaan cairn and the elf army encamped around it, or so they fancied. Finding Vala much more open around him, Galaeron asked again where her home was and what her relationship to Melegaunt was. She went so far as reassuring him that his people had nothing to fear from hers. The Granite Tower was far, far away and hardly strong enough to pose a threat to Evereska—and that was all she was going to say on the matter while she remained a prisoner. Galaeron decided it would have to be enough.