Author's Note: No big changes, just a bit of tweaking and bolt tightening.

Chapter 9…The Castle Ruins

Carona had ignored the reproachful look Neeshka sent her when she realized Marshal Cormick would be joining them. Like Carona, the tiefling had her reasons for wanting to avoid the scrutiny of the Watch. But they were all glad of an extra warrior when they learned what infested the castle ruins.

"Oh, gods, the smell!" Neeshka cried, once the last of the zombies guarding the castle gates had stopped twitching. "I'm going to be sick. What are they doing here? Where did they come from? You know—I don't care. Let's just go."

Carona was inclined to agree. If the ruins were infested with undead, this couldn't be the lizardfolk lair they were searching for. Nor did it seem at all likely that bladelings camped here. But Cormick frowned as he looked down at the rotted remains.

"There were reports of zombies seen around Fort Locke," he said. "I didn't pay the stories much mind at the time. Frightened people see all sorts of monsters in the shadows. But can this be a coincidence? Or are the troubles here somehow related to those around the fort?"

"The farmer we talked to yesterday felt there was a curse on this castle. There is an unnatural feel to the land beneath my feet," Elanee said. "And it reminds me of the shadow I felt in Eridis and elsewhere in the Mere."

Khelgar strode to the battered, sagging castle door and threw it wide open. "Enough talk," he said. "Let's split some skulls."

In the entry hall, the floor was twisted and warped. Carona picked her way through a ridge of broken marble tiles that shone like great dirty teeth. What could have done this? The streams of light from the holes in the roof made the surrounding shadows darker.

"Hells, hells, hells," Neeshka whispered. "We shouldn't be here."

"Wait outside then," Carona said. Neeshka's hurt look made her scowl. Don't you think I'm scared too? But look at Cormick's face—do you think he'll back out now?

"Wait outside by myself? No thanks."

Skeletal undead roamed the castle halls in random patrols. Khelgar and Cormick didn't have much trouble destroying them. Carona was surprised by Elanee's competence with a blade. She'd borrowed the sword Carona took from the bandit leader and, with the flame enchantment she placed upon it, did a lot of damage.

Neeshka, with her keen senses, was the first to hear the voices. She held up one hand to stop the others. She and Carona, in their soft-soled boots, crept forward. They worked their way closer, down a short hall to a room with no door. Two men were inside. They both wore mage robes. Carona held her sleeve to her nose to try to block the stench. What are they doing? Ilmater's mercy, those are bodies lying on the floor!

She heard the murmur of voices but could not catch their words. The man nearest the doorway turned and looked straight at her although Carona was certain she had made no noise. He was no man at all but a shade or sending—she could see straight through him. He gave her a mocking smile and vanished. The other man wore a blank metallic mask with eyeholes like dark pits. Power rose in a cold wave when he called out the words of a spell.

"Oh, hells, he's a necromancer," Neeshka squeaked and then she was gone. The ring of corpses surrounding the mage began to jerk and rise to their feet. Carona slowly backed away, her sword raised in defense. Khelgar and Cormick pounded past her and the fight began.

Carona waited in the shadows. These zombies were much tougher than anything they'd seen so far. That priest is making them stronger. He'll raise them again and again. Hugging the wall, she worked her way around the room.

It's a serious business, back-stabbing a man, Lewy Jons had told her when she was an impressionable thirteen summers old. You only get one chance. I know you've no love for the Prince of Lies, but when you get behind your mark, pray for Cyric to guide your hand. Strike to kill.

The new sword, meticulously sharpened by Khelgar and delivered with all her weight behind it, slid up and under the priest's ribcage. He was dead before he could finish the words of his spell. Pulling her sword out of his body seemed twice as difficult as thrusting it in. All that was left was to crush, hack and dismember the remaining zombies.

"What in the Nine Hells was that about?" Khelgar asked while Elanee healed his bruises. The zombies hadn't been able to gnaw through his chain shirt. Carona's leather would never be the same though and she hoped she would be able to get the stench out of it. Some of the zombies had been wet and slimy.

"I don't know," Carona said.

The necromancer had lived here for some time, she guessed. This room was the charnel house for the bodies the necromancer staged for his foul rites. There were bits of flesh and bone scattered about, like crumbs from a ghoul's feast. The reek of rotted meat was so thick as to be almost palpable. Perhaps that was why the necromancer wore a mask yet apparently he had used the very next room for sleeping and working. A large heavy desk had been moved next to the bed, whose hangings were torn and half rotted in place. On top of the desk there were a half dozen jars, some made from porcelain and some carved from stone. Presumably they held spell ingredients. Elanee opened a few curiously and sniffed at the contents but she took nothing. Her face was set in lines of careful blankness. This place really upsets her.

Neeshka had no problem opening the locked desk. There was no gold or treasure inside, other than an enchanted amulet and a thick leather-bound book.

"The necromancer's spell book," Carona guessed. "Gods, he wrote small. I can barely read it." Cormick leaned over her shoulder while she flipped through the pages. She found several loose sheets tucked inside. Cormick took them.

"Letters," he said. "Hmm. Who are these Shadow Priests they mention?"

"I have no idea," Carona said. She closed the book. "Here, you better take it."

Cormick replaced the letters and wrapped the book in a bit of cloth torn from a blanket on the filthy bed. "Maybe this will make some sense to the Many-Starred Cloaks in Neverwinter. May I have the amulet as well?" he asked. She handed it over reluctantly. It was probably worth some coin.

She squatted by the body of the man she had killed. He wore no jewelry. With distaste, she patted down his stiff, filthy robe but found no pockets. Her hand hovered over his mask. What face does he wear? Is it monstrous? When she touched the mask, a shock of cold energy ran through her fingers. Hearing her exclamation, Elanee hurried over.

"Be careful," the druid warned. Carona cradled her half-frozen fingers and gave her a wry look. "That is a focus for this priest. It allowed him to amplify his power over the undead."

"Now can we get out of here?" Neeshka said. "Before something worse happens? This place gives me the jitters."

"I feel the same," Elanee said. "No good can come from tampering with the natural order of life and death. Whatever reason this Shadow Priest has for doing so cannot be a good one."

"Well, yeah, Elanee, thanks for pointing that out," Neeshka said, rolling her eyes.

Carona moved closer to Cormick. She leaned forward and he dropped his head to better hear her quiet words. "That shade I saw—he spoke with a Luskan accent."

A worried look was Cormick's only reply.

At the end of a long corridor, guarded by ghouls and zombies they found a room barred from the outside and locked as well. When they finally got the door open, they found a group of unarmed lizardfolk, who stared at them fearfully.

"What did that priest want with you?" Carona asked. One of the lizard warriors mimed a blade across his throat and pointed to one of the dismembered corpses out in the hall. "What, he was going to make zombies out of you?"

"Yes."

"A lizard zombie," Neeshka said in an undertone. "Now that would be something to see." Elanee shushed her.

"Are you from the tribe that has been attacking Highcliff?" Cormick asked. The warriors exchanged glances.

"Come now," Carona said. "We just saved you from a horrible fate. Is it too much to expect an answer to our questions?"

More silence.

"Fine. I'll lock you back in and you can stay here until the necromancer returns," she lied. "He's going to be pretty anxious to make new zombies to replace the ones we destroyed getting here." She beckoned for the others to follow her out.

"Wait." She turned and raised her brows. "We have not attacked the people of Highcliff."

"Ah. But you sank the boats? Burned the farms?" Their silence was answer enough. "Why?" she asked. "What are you trying to accomplish?"

"Only our chief can answer such questions," one of them said at last.

"Then take us to him."

"No. He will punish us for bringing warm-bloods to our lair."

"Maybe he will," Carona said. "But will he turn you into zombies? It's your choice."

"Are you crazy?" Neeshka hissed as they followed the group of lizardfolk out of the ruins. "Five of us against an entire tribe? They'll kill us and eat us for dinner."

"So far they have only damaged property. They've been careful to avoid any acts of war," Carona said. In a lower voice, she added, "I think their numbers can't be great."

"I agree," Elanee said. "Something has driven them here from the Mere. I suspect they do not want to be driven away again. And if they choose to clash directly with humans—well, history suggests that they will not prevail."

Instead of leading them to the lizardfolk's lair, three of the lizardfolk waited with them on a rocky beach near the lane that led back to Highcliff while the others went to fetch their chief. With the shorter days of the season, the sun was already beginning to dip down toward the horizon. Carona wondered if the lizardfolk planned to wait until dark and then ambush them. That would be annoying.

"Where did all those zombies come from?" Khelgar asked, after he had tired of pacing back and forth.

"The Shadow Priest made them, gravel-head," Neeshka said. "Do I got to spell it out for you? Were you too busy playing with that great big axe of yours to figure that out?"

"Where did all the bodies come from in the first place, goat girl?"

"This castle fell in a battle with demons," Cormick said. "It was part of the same war that almost destroyed West Harbor when you were a baby," he said to Carona. "Many Greycloaks were killed here. They were probably buried nearby."

"That was some twenty years ago," Khelgar said. "Might explain where all the skeletons came from. But zombies now, don't they have to be made from fresh corpses? Isn't that why they were keeping them lizardfolk alive?"

"I don't know," Cormick said.

"Well, that's what I think," Khelgar said. "And if I'm right then I want to know where all the fresh bodies are coming from."

It was a good question and she could see that Cormick was sharing her thought. He drew her aside to speculate. Could this Shadow Priest—and judging by the letters they found, he was part of some sort of cult—be responsible for the missing travelers? And was there any relationship between these priests, the migration of lizardfolk and the increased bandit activity in the Mere and beyond?

"Does this tie in with the attack by bladelings on West Harbor?" he asked. "Galen seems to think they are following you, Carona. He says they are searching for a relic of some sort." He nodded his great shaggy head towards Khelgar. "Your friend there says you carry it in your pocket."

"He talks too much."

"And you talk too little. You're more like your father than you like to admit."

"Daeghun is not my father. He made that perfectly clear on many occasions."

"Struck a nerve, did I?"

"I don't have to answer your questions, Watchman."

"Oh yes, you do, Carona," he replied, his serious face becoming yet sterner. "People died in West Harbor, people I cared about. I thought you cared about some of them yourself. Wasn't Aimee Fern your friend? And the gods know you spent enough time hanging around that foul outlaw Lewy Jons when you were a kid, although why Daeghun allowed it—"

"Like Daeghun ever cared what I did as long as I was quiet about it," she said scornfully. "If you want to know about this thing, this relic that I'm carrying, ask Daeghun. He's the one who's been hiding it all these years. He gave it to me hoping I would draw the bladelings far from your precious West Harbor. Maybe he'll tell you more than he told me. He always liked you better."

"Daeghun cares for you," Cormick said. "You've never been fair to him, Carona, or you would have seen that for yourself."

"You think so?" What's wrong with me? I sound like a whining baby. "Well, that doesn't matter. The point is that I don't see how what happened at West Harbor could have anything to do with these Shadow Priests. But anyway, it's not my problem. That's for you Watchmen to worry about. I just want to get back to Neverwinter and get on with my life."

Cormick gave her a dissatisfied frown. Carona turned away before he could launch into one of his lectures about what one owed the gods and one's fellow man. He hadn't changed. His stubborn adherence to duty over all else was one of the things about Cormick that had always driven her half wild. No wonder Daeghun liked him so well. His duty had driven Lorne away and—she slammed the door shut on that thought.

Soon a delegation of lizardfolk approached and she was able to stop pretending to ignore Cormick. The one Carona assumed was their leader wore a necklace of what looked like lizardfolk claws. He spoke Common with careful diction and explained that if he made life difficult enough for Highcliff, the townsfolk would go away and leave them in possession of the land. It was such a pathetic plan that she was hard-pressed not to laugh. She did shake her head a little.

"These townsfolk do not think like you," she said as diplomatically as she could. "If you burn their houses, they will build new ones. If you sink their boats, they will build new ones. If you threaten them, they will hunt you down."

"We have not threatened," the chief said. "We have hurt no one—but we could. Know that we could have killed if we had chosen to do so."

"We know this," Carona said. "You have acted wisely. And that is why we come to you with words instead of weapons." She laid her hand on Cormick's arm. "This is an important warrior come from the great city of Neverwinter to negotiate a peace with your people." Cormick narrowed his eyes but did not contradict her. "The destruction of the ships and the houses of the people here must stop. If it stops, there will be peace between humans and lizardfolk. If the destruction continues, you will be pitting yourself not just against those of Highcliff but against the warriors of Neverwinter as well. This is not a battle you can win."

The chief stared down at Carona impassively but she could tell by the restless movements of his followers that her threat had struck home.

"Humans do not make good neighbors," the chief said at last. "Always, there is aggression. It is best for the humans to leave this land to us. We were here first."

Carona gave him a skeptical look. If this place had originally been settled by lizardfolk, it was news to her. "It is best for you to find someplace where humans do not already live," she countered.

"There is no such place. We have looked. This is where we wish to stay."

"Then you'd best find some way to become good neighbors," she said. "The people here will call for the aid of the Neverwinter warriors if they must but they will not leave." As the chief continued to look down at her, she added, "You know this to be true."

Slowly, reluctantly, he bowed his head in imitation of a human nod. "What do you promise, then, warm-blood? Will my clan be free to live here in peace as 'good neighbors'? Or will we be hunted down like vermin at the whim of the humans here?"

"You will be left in peace."

"And does your warrior from Neverwinter swear this is so? Such promises have been made to my people before. We have little faith in the honor of warm-bloods."

"We swear it," she said, pinching Cormick's arm before he could speak.

"If you break your word, we will break more than boats next," the chief warned.

"If there are problems, you will bring them to the elder of the town, who will see that peace is restored," she replied.

Carona was braced and ready for Cormick's angry words as they walked back along the road to Highcliff.

"It will never work, even if Elder Mayne agrees to what you promised—and I doubt that he will. And I don't appreciate you dragging me into your lies and false oaths."

"What lies?" she asked. "Aren't you supposed to be looking into this sort of thing? If Elder Mayne hasn't already sent to Lord Nasher for Greycloaks to get rid of the lizardfolk I'll buy you a steak dinner. They might be marching south from Neverwinter as we speak."

"Like the Watch, the Greycloaks are stretched thin already. There's no one to spare."

"Then that's all the more reason for Mayne to agree to what the lizardfolk ask. But honestly, let Nasher keep feeling the pinch and he'll manage to scrape up a squad or two from somewhere. You can't tell me he is happy at the loss of trade from the south. Not with all the problems with the Lords' Alliance and Luskan right now." Cormick gave her a frustrated look.

"Yes, but this peace you promise is no long-term solution. There is a lot of resentment in the town against the lizardfolk. There are going to be problems. You know that, as well as I do."

"We don't need a long-term solution. We just need to get by for now. If there are problems later on, well, they can be dealt with—later on." And by someone else.

"You know, you really ought to apply to Nasher for a post, Carona. Maybe he'll give you charge of the Watch. You sound just like my captain."