X
At the end of the road to Candlekeep, they sat uneasily on the unfamiliar saddles. Neither of them really knew how to ride, but guiding the horses' thoughts with his own helped. Before they set off, they had doused some of the feed with the 'invisibility potions' stolen from the stores. If it came to it, they and the horses would disappear.
Had she forgiven him? Why wasn't she afraid? He thought of how terrified she was, how she had smiled. What other terrors awaited them? She seemed calmer when he was there. Wasn't he a monster? The dark laughter had dulled to silent, sullen anger, but he shut it out. Why had Koveras turned to golden dust? Why had he felt… a connection near the end? She had kissed him that morning when he had asked all these and more. Her eyes were apprehensive, but smiled. An adventure. With pugtails and trollops. No excitement in her words, just sadness, but they promised to leave it all behind, to stay together. It would have to be enough.
The rats had carried the basilisk back to its lair, carried all their friends. They had set a pyre. The flames roared, the air choked out; they set a trail of oil, and left the catacombs in silence. He could not forget the sight, could not still the questions. At least they had each other.
"North or south?" Imoen asked, then after a moment, commented, "I always wanted to visit Waterdeep."
He shrugged. Neither of them had really put any thought into where they were going. He held out his hand; smiling, she took it and squeezed. The realms awaited.