By the time the Mirtul turned to Kythorn, Lidia had passed along news of her encounter with Baron Ployer to Aerie, Minsc, and Yoshimo. She also received her permanent assignment in the City Guard: the night shift, with four days of work followed by one day of rest.
Before he returned to his post near the Promenade, Lieutenant Aegisfield had learned she could turn forces of darkness with a word. And, while she didn't yet have the skill to counter vampires and their spawn, she did have a bonded axe with a serious grudge against undead, which gave her better odds than most.
She accepted the change in schedule without any fuss. It wasn't as though she was getting much sleep anyway.
Towards the end of the last watch of this night, the Guard had received word of a battle a street or two removed from Ophal's Ring. Five or six from the Night Watch had rushed from the edge of the district at once, with Lidia following closely behind one of them.
But, by the time they'd arrived, two men in the Shadow Thieves' jacks-of-plate were dead, their faces paper-white and agape, their bodies already tensed in rigor mortis. It was as though their souls had been so frightened they had forsaken their bodies.
There was no sign of their aggressors anywhere, but everyone present, about half-dozen in all, knew who had done this to them.
"Damn guild war," muttered one under their breath.
One of the older members of the Night Watch, a grim-faced halfling woman, pushed her way forward. She caved in the corpses' chests with a truncheon. Then, she drove two wooden stakes into their hearts, pushing past their cratered ribs until the stakes nearly touched the earth.
Another guard cried out, "They're dead, isn't that enough?"
The woman pulled back one of the corpses' hoods, wordlessly revealing two puncture wounds on one of the Thieves' necks. The wounds had already stopped bleeding, dark red and clotted with hardly a smudge.
"A few more hours and they'd have joined the vampires' ranks," she said.
Nearby, underneath one of the magelights, one of the victims' compatriots was still among the living. But he clasped his hands and curled up in a fetal position, rocking back and forth.
He was muttering something as he rocked, oblivious to the world around him. Lidia approached him, but she didn't catch much of what he said except these snippets of verse:
"Step in shadow, left a husk, killed in moments after dusk.
Step in shadow, you are prey, pray you live to see the day."
She was somewhat at a loss. Nothing in her training had taught her how to deal with madness. On the other hand, it was unlikely he'd been suddenly possessed by Cyric or some similar ailment — his mind had probably been shattered from watching his fellows attacked, killed, and drained of their blood.
Finally, she decided to try removing his fear. She sat before him, raising her hand over his face, and focused, closing her eyes for a moment.
This did nothing. He only started shouting louder and laughing incoherently: "Run you can't, the war will find! Run you can't, the war will find!"
Another of the guards said to her, "We can't leave him here; he won't last until morning like this."
"I'll take him to the hospital," she said. "I know the way."
The man took some convincing, but he eventually followed close behind her of his own accord, keeping away from the center of the street and murmuring the same verses to himself, over and over. Now and again, she wondered if the man would run off, but he seemed to understand that she was trying to get him out of danger.
Eventually, they went together to the roof above the Coronet, in front of Ganthet and Sebire's hospital. Lidia rapped on the weathered front door a few times.
After a few minutes, Sebire finally answered. She'd been awakened from her rest — she'd thrown on an apron over her nightgown, and her silver-streaked, coarse black hair was in disarray.
But she was as courteous as ever. "What is the trouble, child?" she asked.
"Someone's lost his mind, I think, from witnessing some nearby people die to vampires," Lidia said.
The man behind her had resumed curling into a ball and rocking on the wooden slats, chanting the verses louder: "See the flow from wound and neck! Was that your friend? Well, best you check!"
Sebire studied him from a distance for a moment.
"The mind is much harder to heal than the body," she said, "but for this poor soul, we'll do what we can. He may recover on his own — I've seen it happen before. What he may need more than anything else is a safe place to go, and at least we can give him that."
There was little else Lidia could do, in other words. As Sebire gently guided the man inside the hospital, she started to leave, hoping the priest was right.
She stepped warily. Among the weathered wooden shacks that lined the Coronet roof, there were many crevices an unfriendly face could hide, a dark patch where a vampire could take shelter—
She heard someone murmur her name and held still.
The voice spoke her name again, a little louder this time.
She craned her neck in its direction. She thought she saw a deep blue hood in the small space between the hospital and the house next door.
Then a dark hand gestured to her, the palm briefly flashing in the dim light before disappearing into the shadows again.
She looked behind her, over both her shoulders, then hunched over and crept forward.
"I was wondering when you'd stop by," a familiar voice quietly said.
She didn't speak the voice's name aloud, not here in the open air. "I'm on patrol," she replied. "Can it wait?"
"This is urgent," he said. "I don't know how long I have until they find me here."
She removed her room key from a hidden pocket. "This will get you into the back of the tavern. I'm in Room H. Before you go in, let Bernard know you're with me. As soon as my shift ends, I'll come find you."
The dark hand took the key and disappeared into the patch of shadow from which it had emerged.
As soon as she finished her patrol with the Night Watch, Lidia went straightaway back to the Coronet, entering as quietly as she could; it was just before dawn, and nearly everyone else in the house was asleep.
However, when she opened the door to Room H, Valygar was seated in one of the chairs, his dark blue hood thrown back. He had smears of grease and dirt on his face; he was travel-worn and tired from constantly being on the move and hiding in shadows.
"Not a bad place for the Coronet," he said, leaning back. "Spacious."
"It's a double room; my friend's out," she replied.
One of the beds was occupied by a ginger-haired girl Lidia didn't recognize. Pulling a blue woolen shawl close to her, she was bowed over the edge of the bed like a reed in the wind; she looked as though she'd fall asleep right there. Valygar quickly introduced her as Nalia de'Arnise, a nobleman's daughter who had promised to accompany him on his errand.
"Clearly it's dangerous for both of you in this city." Lidia said, "What are you doing here? Do you need help?"
Valygar leaned over, staring at the floor, then looked up. "I've mentioned before the Cowled Wizards are hunting me," he said. "It's far past time you knew why.
"I'm sure you've seen the planar sphere nearby. My ancestor, the necromancer Lavok, built the sphere and disappeared with it over five centuries ago. No one had seen it since that time — at least until it knocked out a city block last midwinter.
"The Cowled Wizards want to enter the sphere. They believe my body is the key to opening it, alive or not. They tried to force my cooperation, and I was forced to defend myself and flee. They've been hunting me ever since.
"My family swore an oath to kill Lavok if he ever reappeared, but I can't fulfill it without aid — especially since the Cowled Wizards would oppose me. If you're willing to join me in exploring the sphere, you're welcome to any treasure that might lie within."
"Why is your family determined to kill him?" Lidia asked.
"Lavok was already centuries old when he left Athkatla; he extended his life by stealing the bodies of his kin," Valygar said. "I am the last of the Corthala line. If he lives, you can imagine my concern."
She thought on this a moment. "One other question, then. Will this be us alone, or should I reach out to anyone else?"
Valygar's response was caught in a long, hesitant pause. He was torn between his desire to keep his mission as secret as possible and his hope of coming out of it alive.
"I'd prefer not to get the Order involved, if at all possible," he finally said. "See if a couple of solid people from your company would join: those you trust to face unknown dangers and stand against the Wizards."
"All right," Lidia said, "I'll see who I can find."
Some hours later, after catching some sleep, she went out to find where Minsc and Aerie had spent much of the last few days.
It took some time to pick her way through the winding streets, but she found the Five Flagons more or less where Bernard said it would be: the next district south, not far from the great bridge over the Alandor, surrounded by slatted houses on a tight bend in Cloth Row. The tavern announced itself with an old wooden shield hanging from a bracket on the wall, painted with the outline of five lidded pitchers with a handle and spout.
While the bar was still getting ready to start serving, the halfling at the bar knew both Aerie and Minsc and directed Lidia downstairs to the theater.
As she passed through the stairwell, the magelights on the wall flared awake, bathing the somewhat rickety steps with warm golden light, flickering like tongues of fire.
After she passed what was presumably a ticket booth, she found herself in a cold, large empty room that felt like a cave stripped bare of its gems and water-borne formations. Two dozen long wooden benches, alongside a number of wooden chairs, were stacked to one side of the stone floor. The centerpiece of the room was the wooden stage, lying in repose and stretching far back behind drawn, red, threadbare curtains. Every now and again, a draft rustled the cloth, opening to darkness.
The room seemed to loom overhead. All of Lidia's footfalls faintly echoed.
There were a few signs of life here, though: towards the front of the stage, two of the magelights hanging from the ceiling flickered in their sconces. And a few people were here, possibly getting ready for the next show.
Sitting on a staircase, the exit for stage right, were two men deep in discussion. One, standing next to a sheaf of papers he had laid down, had a wide, expressive face, thick black eyebrows, and did as much talking with his copper-colored hands as he did with his mouth.
The other was listening to him, his long, pointed ears pricked up through his silvery-blue hair. He was taller than the first and leaner, but he was strong, to judge by the way he carried himself. A dancer, maybe? Lidia wondered.
"We can get by on a thousand gold pieces," the first man said. He extended his hand forward as he talked, as though he were hoping his palm would be filled then and there. "Of course extra would make it that much more presentable."
"Alas, I cannot afford even one thousand gold currently," the taller man said. "I believe Miss Raelis took charge of the Sigil Troupe's proceeds before they departed this plane."
The other suddenly curled and tucked away his fist, as though he were ashamed of asking. "Ah. I thought…Well, no matter. We shall have to get some of our items on credit and pay the actors from the proceeds. This production will be very bare-bones indeed."
Meanwhile, Minsc sat on the stage towards the center, hunched over his sword. Aerie was nearby, watching his efforts with some amusement, her legs hanging down over the edge. She greeted Lidia enthusiastically.
"Good to see you both," Lidia said. "What's Larry got to say today?"
Aerie said, "Minsc has been trying to get that thing to talk for the past few days — Yoshimo said it had a secret of some kind."
"Really? What kind of secret?"
Aerie shrugged. "I didn't get the chance to ask. It's been a few days since I've seen him. Heard anything from Jaheira yet?"
Lidia shook her head. She'd been waiting on some word or sign from her, but she was beginning to wonder if recovering the holy symbol had even worked.
Aerie bit her lip. "I…I wish there were more we could do…"
"Just keep an eye out when you can," Lidia said. She looked up towards the red curtains veiling the stage. "What have you been doing here?"
"Taking stock, seeing what's in the back, tidying, things like that. Haer'Dalis — we helped him while we were investigating Mekrath — he's taken over this playhouse, he keeps saying this play is going to be legendary. Even though we've got barely anything at all."
Though Aerie was speaking of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, her eyes were shining, and she kept sneaking glances toward the taller man at stage right.
"I've… I've always wanted to be part of a play," she added. "I'm sure… I'm sure it doesn't sound very exciting to you, but…"
"It sounds like you're having a wonderful time," Lidia said with a smile.
"I'm… I'm sorry we haven't checked in for a while," Aerie said. "I hope work is going well; I suppose you didn't come here just to talk."
"It's all right. Actually, a mutual friend of ours is calling in a favor and wondered if you could help."
"It's going to be a dangerous favor, isn't it?" Aerie said, her nose wrinkling slightly.
Lidia laughed. "How did you guess?"
"No one ever seems to ask you for any other kind."