Early the next morning, Minsc left the Coronet towards Ribald's place, accompanied by Aerie and Lidia at his request.
"If Dynaheir were coming home to Rashemen," he had explained, "only the other witches could touch her. With no other witches, perhaps you could help?"
The day promised to be pleasantly warm as the sun arose over the eastern foothills, its light shining through the morning air as it would through a clear glass.
Already the day's business was beginning. A cacophony of crowing roosters echoed throughout the River District, early-morning message runners and deliveries on various pack animals were winding through the streets, and the guards changed from the night watch to the day.
In fact, it took the three of them much longer than usual to cross the great bridge over the Alandor River, so clogged it was with people and animals going towards the Promenade and the other southern districts.
None of them were in much of a mood to say anything at all, partly because of the occasion and partly because of the noise of the crowd around them.
But Larry spoke up, muffled partly because of the sheath he rested in: "Boss, hey boss — we should start killing something. Just to get things moving along. Please?"
This garnered several stares from passersby, their expressions ranging from uncomfortable to downright hostile.
"Larry, it's not the time," Lidia said.
"Pretty please? We could whack something eeeevvvvillllll..."
"Very soon," Minsc said, "we'll find a suitable evil to fight, for fair Dynaheir! How do you like the sound of that, Larry?"
"Just keep swinging hard, beefy." The sword punctuated that with a guttural laugh.
The shops inside the Promenade itself were still largely closed, but the plain, heavy wooden door to the Adventurer's Mart was unlocked, a small light shining through a barred window about five feet from the ground. Ribald's shop was open, and he might be expecting them.
Minsc opened the door. The shop was lit, but empty and silent, except for Ribald dusting a shelf full of tonics.
He'd already rearranged some of the displays in his store since the last time they were there: laying out sets of camping gear for adventurers planning their next expeditions, refreshing the shelves of specialty potions behind his desk in the back, and marking down the previous winter's stock. Somehow, the store had morphed into a different kind of chaos.
He noticed them at once, bounding lightly down the ladder. "Welcome, welcome," he said, clasping his hands, the wrinkles around his face folding in a well-practiced courtesy. "And right on time, too."
A slight elven woman, not much over five feet tall, descended down the short stairway from where the magical scrolls were kept in the back, brushing aside a skirt with a thin hand — the skin was the color of bitumen and was painted with fine-lined, flowing white scrolls down to her fingertips. Though she wore a simple, dark red dress and let her long white hair down, she carried herself like a princess. However, she lacked a princess's detachment — her amber-colored eyes flickered with a mind at work in her wide, expressive face.
"This is Liriel Baenre, formerly of Menzoberranzan," Ribald said. "She's willing to do the rites needed to send your friend's spirit home."
"I'd hoped not to have to do everything by myself," Liriel said. "Are they here to help?"
"Honored wychlaran," Minsc said with a bow, "that is why they are here. I would have brought more of your sisters, but Boo couldn't find any. So there is another witch, little Aerie, and a sister in battle here named Lidia. I hope that is enough."
"It should be," Liriel said. "At least, it will have to be — my group and I are leaving for Eshpurta tomorrow."
"Are you…are you one of the witches of Rashemen?" Aerie asked the drow uncertainly.
"Do I look that much like a human?" Liriel laughed a bit to herself. "They'd likely still call me an outlander. But I accompanied a warrior on his dajemma, took part in the wychlarans' councils, and once touched spirits of Rashemen. For our purposes, that is enough."
She directed Lidia and Aerie towards an empty back room containing only a long wooden table. Laid out on the beams was a bale of straw, a ball of twine, and a pile of roughly-woven linen cloth.
"Let us begin," she said.
As Liriel broke apart the bale upon the table, she explained the task to come. Since Dynaheir's body could not be recovered, they would hold her funeral in effigy instead, creating a human figure from bundles of straw. And since Dynaheir's death was violent and premature, they would partake in several rituals to cleanse her spirit and guide it back towards her home.
"It's as good a time as any for this," Liriel concluded. "The Rashemi believe that spring is the best time to placate the unburied dead, as they can cause great mischief upon travelers, crops, and livestock, among other things."
Aerie carefully wound a bundle of twine around a large handful of straw, then wove one set of ends. While her thin, pale fingers were working, she was clearly lost in thought.
A question finally arose from Aerie's lips: "Lidia, you're the only one here who knew Dynaheir. She seemed both powerful and wise, but what was she really like?"
Lidia looked up from binding together a thick bundle of straw for the effigy's torso. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…did she make jokes, or do anything for fun, or did she like Boo…that sort of thing."
"I'm not entirely clear on this," Liriel said, "but invoking the memory of the dead seems to fit the occasion. If we err, I should be able to make up for it by pouring out a little extra firewine on the straw."
Aerie laughed nervously, and Lidia said: "While we were in camp, Dynaheir insisted we keep everything clean, tidy, and in order — she thought Boo was dirty and wished Minsc wouldn't keep him so close. She rarely made a joke, but when she did, she could get her point across with only a look. She held her secrets and the secrets of the Rashemi witches close, but when Imoen expressed regret about not paying more attention to her magical studies, Dynaheir offered to give her some basic lessons."
Lidia swallowed hard. "And…she stood between us and Irenicus, defying him with her last breath."
A memory came to her, unbidden. They'd just returned from dealing with the remnants of Sarevok's loyalists in the Iron Throne, which had tried to buy and drain the mines in Nashkel. It had been cold that night, but each member of the Company had been frozen in place, not because of the chill, but because Irenicus had trapped them with a spell in an instant, leaving all of them save Dynaheir completely helpless —
Words broke through Lidia's thoughts. "Are you all right?" Aerie asked.
Lidia looked down at the effigy's torso. Her palm had clenched around it, bundling and bending the straw in her hand. She gently smoothed it out and continued to work, saying nothing more.