Lidia was caught between two choices: to stay or go.
The Company had lingered in Anath's cave for some time now, but without the light of day, it was difficult to tell how long. They'd trimmed the small oil lamp once and refilled it twice, taken some food, and had a few turns trying to heal Yoshimo.
The trouble with him was no longer the open wound or even the loss of blood; both were stabilized and beginning to fully mend. But he was unable to move far from where they'd laid his bedroll, and speaking for him became something of an effort, one that grew more tiring as the hours wore on.
"Perhaps something within his life force has gone awry. With all these abominable parodies of life afoot, that would hardly be surprising," Anomen said, after examining the patient again.
Lidia weighed this. If that were the case, Anomen would likely have to work another restoration spell, which would put both him and Yoshimo out of commission for another day or so. The longer they were in the middle of the woods, the more likely it was that the camp would be attacked again, whether by wolves, shadows, or Anath bringing back her next meal.
On the other hand, if one of them couldn't move, they were pretty much stuck here anyway.
"Do whatever you can," Lidia said to him. "The rest of us can work around it. I'm not about to leave anyone behind."
While Aerie and Anomen were trying to determine whether and how Yoshimo could be helped, Valygar, Lidia, and Minsc were taking the watch, two at a time, with staggering shifts of about four hours each.
Lidia went to take Minsc's spot next to Valygar, who for about two hours had maintained a vigil a couple paces back from the entrance of Anath's cave. Here, the surface was covered with dead soil spilling in, until it gave way to rock.
A long silence passed between them for some time.
"You haven't told me much of yourself since we started traveling," she finally said.
Valygar replied, "I have little to say to anyone, usually, and that is by my design."
She glanced behind her. The others were far enough away that the two of them could talk privately if they wished.
"Still, you once mentioned that the Cowled Wizards were looking for you," she said. "If I do make an enemy of them as a result of associating with you, I'd at least like to know why."
He considered this for a moment. "A bold question, but a fair one, and something I cannot easily answer. By your leave, I would first like to know what your interest is in the Wizards."
This seemed reasonable enough to her. She said, "They arrested my closest friend for casting a spell in self-defense."
"You are not Amnian, but you seem to be devout." He seemed almost incredulous. "Why would you befriend someone who practices magic?"
She knew that Amnians kept a much tighter rein on magic and those that wielded it, but she still found the question rather strange. Still, she gave no sign that she thought so. "I was raised by the mage Gorion in Candlekeep. It's a library in the heart of a fortress — most of the people I knew there practiced magic in some way."
"Gorion's Company," he said to himself, and sighed. "I had been wondering about this group's name, and now I know why I was loath to ask. My life appears to be entwined with foul sorcery, and there seems to be no escaping it."
She furrowed her brow. "Do you mean to say that all magic is evil? I've seen both the Art and the Power do good and save lives. I myself would be dead many times over without it."
"I have heard it said that magic is only as poor as its user, but I do not believe," he said. His voice grew to a level of passion she had never witnessed in him. "It spawns as much danger as it cures. Everything would be better done by hand, or not at all."
"These seem like strongly held beliefs," Lidia said. "I'd like to know why."
A flash of uncertainty seemed to cross his face, until he said,"Another time, perhaps. It is tied to why the Cowled Wizards are hunting me, and I will not speak of it now."
He studied her for a moment. "Candlekeep…you are a long way from home, then, and you've traveled more than I. Perhaps there are facets to magic that you are more familiar with. Gods know, I've talked enough." He gave something of a self-deprecating laugh. "Tell me more about your friend."
She thought back, then said, "My friend Imoen and I and I were fleeing a mage that had captured and experimented on us. If you wanted an example of a corrupt sorcerer, he would serve you well. As for Imoen — she's a picklock with some spells, and she was trying to escape this mage when the Cowled Wizards took her. I don't know what happened to her or where she's gone, and the only ones who could find out are the Shadow Thieves. Gaelan Bayle approached me, and claimed if I proved my good faith and handed over some coin, they could find her."
"Careful how you speak of the Thieves," he said. "Are you certain someone wasn't trying to fool you?"
"I don't think so," Lidia said.
"As you say. Forgive my skepticism. Making good in Athkatla is a complex and deadly dance, and the Thieves don't simply take their partners from the street. Still, if you hope to see your friend again, I suppose you shall have to…pay bail." For the first time, a smile twitched at the corner of his dark brown lips.
She laughed. "So, on top of undead shadows, wolf-people, wolf-vampires, the cold, the dark, and the Shade Lord, I'll have to watch out for bad puns, too."
Valygar said, "Thank you for indulging my curiosity. Have a little more patience with me, and I will return the favor in time — perhaps after we discover and end the Shade Lord, if we can."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the faint blue light glowing upon her axeblade again.
"Something's coming," she said.
They both fell silent, and to her ears she heard a faint whisper — not a nearly-distinct voice like Azuredge's, but rather like that of the wind brushing on leaves, passing through without a touch. She could have sworn that it sounded almost mournful.
Inexplicably, the sound froze her blood. Not out of any perception of danger, but a sudden overwhelming terror that lit her nerves and caused her heart to race. It was affecting Valygar, too: he took a long stride backwards into the cave, his hand upon the hilt of his curved sword.
But in the midst of the storm her body raised, her mind remained serene, shielded by divine power against unthinking terror. She looked for the whisper's source, her eyes now tuned to the blackness.
In the distance, as though it were lit with its own unearthly glow, the specter of a lean woman in a long white robe appeared, her stringy black hair trailing behind her. She hovered above the traces of dirty snow and dead undergrowth, floating among the trees, with no feet to touch the ground.