Chapter 56 Lost and Found

Usual disclaimers: Most of the characters in this chapter are owned by a lot of other people and not by me, except an occasional NPC. As usual, concrit and suggestions appreciated.

He was awakened by a strangled scream, and after a moment, he realized it had come from himself. He sat up in a cold sweat and put his head in his hands, shuddering both from the sweat, the autumn coolness, and from the fleeting memory of a dream, though nightmare would be more accurate. Karnwyr sat up whimpering and licked Bishop's hands then his face, and he threw his arms around him and buried his face in the wolf's fur until his shivering stopped.

He glanced out of his good eye at the elves lying deep in their reverie, glad he hadn't roused them, though the badger raised his head and hissed before snuggling back next to Elanee. The thought flashed in his mind that the druid might have done something to him during her ceremony and that he would be cursed to remember that place in his dreams for the rest of his life, like he hadn't had enough nightmares of Red Fallows Watch. He shuddered again and swore. But he discounted that. Vindictiveness described him, not her. Her god, on the other hand...Karnwyr whimpered again, and he ruffled the wolf's fur, already growing thick for the winter. "Gonna be a cold one," he mumbled.

He lay back down and tried to return to sleep as random thoughts flowed through his mind. "Sure hope the pansy's spell fixes my eye too...Don't know about the pointy ears though. Fuck me, it's cold. I can feel the cold in my wrists and my shoulder...maybe younger isn't such a bad idea...ten years off and fix all the damage I've done to my body in thirty years...or is it thirty-one? Does it count if my birthday came and went while I was dead? Not that anyone ever gave a damn about my birthday."

He shuddered again at the thought and coughed, and Karnwyr stretched out beside him to share his warmth. He felt chilled to the bone despite the cozy fire still burning in the fireplace. He tried to think of anything but there. He cursed again as he turned over and pulled up his blanket then put his arm around the wolf. "Not ten years though. I never could grow a decent beard until I got to about twenty five...anyway, could I even grow one with pointy ears? The worst part is having to bow and scrape to one of the gods...thing is before I thought religion was all so much bullshit to fleece the sheep, and know I know better...yeah, about the gods anyway, not so sure about religion. And not just a half-assed going through the motions at the shrine either. I know now that won't work, especially with the darker gods. Plenty of their followers there wailing about why they didn't come for them...What if whoever I choose to bow and scrape to leaves me to Kelemvor anyway?"

He glanced over at Elanee, lying still on a fur with Naloth beside her. "Serve them right if I choose Malar. Now that's a religion for hunters. I hear they even have wild hunts where the prey is criminals...like me. But if the gods need us so bad, you would think they'd choose us. It's like they don't give a damn."

Karnwyr sat up, looked at him and snorted, then grumbled, "Rest, pack brother."

He whispered, "Sorry, boy, forgot you could hear me," and sighed as the wolf wiggled in closer and with his arm around the wolf, tried to surrender to sleep once again. "Wolf...maybe that's it, give up being human at all. I could still talk to the druid. Wonder if there's a wolf god. But no, I like being a man. Wolves never get laid unless they lead the pack." Karnwyr growled at him. He tried to shut off his mind and after a few minutes drifted off to sleep, the wolf's presence calming him and his heat chasing off the chill.

Once they awakened and Sand's conjured buildings dissolved into the mist, Bishop agreed with Elanee's suggestion that his new form should be half elven. Even Sand had been persuaded by then it was for the best so the ranger wouldn't be recognized and all Sand's work undone. Bishop asked to be about five years younger then reminded Sand that he wanted his best nine inches restored too, a request that caused Sand to roll his eyes and mutter.

Casavir looked up from brushing Thunder's glossy black mane. "You will still be recognized if you return to your former ways, Bishop." But after a moment during which the ranger didn't respond with a curse or even a gesture, but instead looked at the ground, Casavir felt ashamed. "Forgive me. I sound as if that's what I expect, and I'm not giving you a chance. I'm not making this any easier for you."

Bishop didn't reply other than to shrug. There was no point anymore in baiting the paladin. The others probably hadn't noticed since they saw him every day, but he could see the pain he had endured in the past two months written on his face, as if the two months without her had been years. It was frightening, the thought of having someone get under his skin that bad. It had come dangerously close to happening to him twice, with her, and before that with Malin. After a few minutes he looked up at him and made a small attempt to bridge the gap between them.

"For what it's worth, I don't remember anything but what I already told you, besides the others in the Wall goin' on about the Betrayer's Crusade. They were...excited...hopeful...they thought Dee was there to lead it and set them free, or whoever was inside of her was, because she was in the Wall too. I remembered that last night. The only other thing I remember is that she reeked of bear. Not that you would probably notice, but I notice those things...it wasn't just her bear though. More like the king of bears, or a bear god, if there is such a thing. She's got herself a powerful enemy, but I got the feelin' she's got powerful allies besides the hagspawn."

Casavir nodded, looking only slightly less miserable than he did whenever someone mentioned her name. "Brother Ivarr and I are also of the opinion that whoever took her was very powerful, possibly a lich or even a demi-god. Someone the other gods cannot interfere with, at least overtly. But thanks just the same. It is good to know she's not alone. Perhaps these clues will aid us yet."

Sand was carefully laying out the spell components he would need. He frowned and asked in what was intended as an aside to Elanee, who was making a porridge for breakfast, but loud enough for Bishop and Casavir to overhear, "It occurs to me that Karnwyr might draw attention to him as well. He was his constant companion, and while one wolf looks like another to most, I fear there are enough people at the Keep and in Neverwinter who would recognize him."

Elanee listened as she stirred the pot and added some dried berries. "Yes, that is a problem. You could always change the color of his fur too. I would still recognize him, as would another druid or ranger, but I doubt anyone else would." She turned to Bishop. "And Karnwyr's name is common enough among elven and half-elven rangers. It means "Lone Wolf" in my Copper Elf dialect, and the word is similar in other elven dialects...'karunwyr, 'karnawere'. You see how similar they are?"

Bishop did not know that, and he looked at the wolf in surprise. He had just known that 'Karnwyr' was his companion's name when they met five years ago, and then he hadn't been sure if that had been communicated to him by the wolf. Suddenly he was sure of it. "What do you say, boy? Do you want to be a black wolf, or red, like the leaves? Even white. That would make it easier to hunt in winter."

Karnwyr didn't have an opinion on the matter. "Color of fur doesn't matter. Make my fur the color of yours, pack brother. That way I can hide with you."

Wolf had been listening and shyly interjected himself into the conversation. "I think it's enough to say that we just met you out here and Karnwyr bonded with you. But I guess they're right and it might make people ask too many questions about the new ranger."

So in the time it took for Casavir, Wolf and Neeshka to feed and groom the rest of the horses and saddle them for the journey back, Sand had finished his casting. He caressed Karnwyr's fur lightly as he used his paint cantrip to make a few artistic changes, pleased at the deep russet color of the bulk of his fur, leaving the underside a creamy white and adding some golden highlights above his eyes and on the tips of his ears. "Pity I don't have another Permanency spell memorized. I can make Karnwyr's new color permanent later, however."

Bishop merely grunted as his mind was occupied as he stared at his image in a mirror that Sand had produced from one of his many pouches. He closed his right eye experimentally to judge the vision in his left eye. It was perfect. Better, in fact. The color of his hair and eyes were identical to what they had been. It was still his face staring back at him for the most part, right down to the stubble, though that was finer while his face was thinner and more angular. He was younger too. He turned his head to look at his right ear, lying flat against his head, but now with a gentle point at the top. He stroked it lightly, and shuddered as he felt a tingle throughout his body. He had always wondered if those stories about elves' ears were true, and now he knew they were. He resisted the urge to go behind some nearby rocks and relieve himself so he could check that out too, but he trusted Sand not to leave him shortchanged.

Wolf brought him over a bowl of porridge. "Here you go, Bishop." The boy blanched and covered his mouth, nearly dropping the bowl.

Sand arched a delicate eyebrow and set down his own bowl. "Oh dear, that will be a problem. Don't make me cast another geas on you all so that doesn't happen again."

Bishop shrugged, surprised at how calm he was, and amazed at how delicious this simple porridge tasted. But everything was like that so far. Even water tasted sweeter than the finest wine. It was all so alive. He reluctantly swallowed and replied. "Hmm. I could say I'm closely related to Bishop...so it's my name too. No one knows it wasn't my last name. I never talked about that with anyone, not even Dee. So I could be his bastard half-brother. Hunter Bishop. It's true, in a sense, so it shouldn't be too much of a strain on Casavir, and it's also true that there's no telling how many bastard half-brothers I have besides the two I know about."

Casavir paled thinking how enmeshed he was becoming in this plot. "It is a gray area, Bish...Hunter. I fear at times I've gone too far in this passive deceit for the sake of my wife. Perhaps Tyr is testing me." He immediately sent a silent prayer to Tyr for guidance. Restore my heart and my spirit, oh lord. Show me your path so that I might not stray from your righteousness.

Neeshka frowned and set her bowl down and put an arm around him, finding the itching merely a nuisance. "Remember what you said about justice, Cas. How you felt that something had offended Tyr's sense of justice? Maybe this is your part in making whatever it is right. Now stop brooding and eat. You've lost weight, and that's not going to make her happy when we get her back. And we will get her back."

He smiled at the tiefling and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Neeshka, you've been a good friend to both of us."

When it came time to leave, the others thanked Bishop, expecting he would go his own way if that was what he wanted. Yet even though they all made ready to leave, they found something that needed to be done in removing traces of the camp, or double then triple-checking that the horses' saddles were fastened correctly. And Bishop was still with them too, as if he too was stalling. Karnwyr made no effort to go either. No one was more surprised than he when Bishop finally drawled, "Hmph. May as well stick around in case I remember something else." It was as good an excuse as any.

Karnwyr was delighted however, and ran around him barking then jumped up and licked his face. "Good, you stay with pack, brother. Stronger, safer that way. It good pack." Apparently he wasn't much of a lone wolf after all despite his name.

He half-heartedly tried to fend off the wolf's affection. "If you say so, brother."

Elanee felt a growing sense of responsibility for Bishop for giving him life, and determined that she would do what she could to see him healed, which she knew would be no minor task. "You're welcome to come with me, Hunter. I could call you Celaes. That's "hunter" in Elven. I want to ride through the hills to observe the condition of the land after the fire." They were both saddened by the aftermath of the forest fire, the devastation of which had been worse since it had been magically caused and burned hotter, and worse still because of the blight left in the King of Shadows' wake. "You can take my horse. I won't need her for a while."

He tried to be non-committal, but she could tell he was relieved to have something to do. "Sure, why not. Hope I haven't forgotten how to ride."

So the companions parted company, the rest heading back to Crossroad Keep with Wolf and Neeshka taking turns scouting ahead. Sand sprung nimbly onto his horse's back then turned to Casavir. "I keep thinking that phrase 'Betrayer's Crusade' sounds very familiar, but I have no idea where I heard it, or more likely, read it. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait to get back to see if Aldanon is back at the Keep." He shuddered at the thought. "However, I might have more success researching it with the Loremaster at the library at Oghma's temple."

Casavir nodded. "I will accompany you then to Neverwinter once we ask if there's been any word at Crossroad Keep. Perhaps Judge Oleff knows what it means, and we might ask at the Academy as well." His heart felt lighter now that he had a direction and a purpose. He felt a peace that he knew came from Tyr, answering his earlier prayer. If not for the grace of Tyr, he might have run mad from grief and worry. He offered another brief prayer of heartfelt thanks then gently nudged Thunder to catch up with Sand.

Bishop kept an eye on Elanee as she flew ahead. Naloch rode along in a saddlebag Elanee had made so he could look out as they rode and ignored Bishop for the most part. Karnwyr loped alongside the horse, running off from time to time to explore an interesting scent or dig for something. Bishop chuckled watching him. What was it about canines and digging. He inhaled deeply the crisp autumn air, which tasted fresh and sweet to him despite the ash the horse kicked up as they picked their way down a hill through the stumps of trees.

They traveled for nearly an hour. She seemed to be heading towards a willow tree in the distance, which stood out in stark contrast to the blackened landscape of stumps surrounding it. A flock of ravens had already claimed it as their home, some of the only wildlife he had seen all morning. They flew out and circled Elanee's hawk form, their raucous cawing shattering the silence. She landed next to the tree and resumed her elven form, and the ravens settled back in the tree, though one appeared to be talking with the druid.

Bishop dismounted and ambled over to Elanee, who was examining the tree. He put his hand on the rough bark. He whistled, the sound strange to his ears. "Odd that it hasn't lost its leaves yet. But this is no ordinary tree. I can feel some kind of magic. Is there a dryad here?" He frowned, thinking that his voice sounded different too, but after a heartbeat, he decided that was a small price to pay for a fresh start. He looked puzzled as he turned back to Elanee. "Weird. It feels...angry."

Elanee smiled at him as she walked around the tree. "Very perceptive. She will get over it if she releases her hate and anger...But besides the ravens, notice the other life that has returned. Thankfully there are no destructive insects, and there's a healthy growth of fungi among its roots." She put her hand on the tree and murmured, "Isn't this a more peaceful life than the one you knew before? You can grow tall and strong and be queen of this new grove if you give up your bitterness."

Bishop arched an eyebrow. He knew who it was and what Elanee had done, though he didn't know exactly how he knew. But he did. He nodded his head in both acknowledgment and approval. "Wouldn't an arrow through the throat or between the shoulder blades have been easier? Or let her rot in Nasher's gaol?"

Elanee didn't answer. She had walked off and was sprinkling seeds around the field, and he went to join her, taking a handful and scattering them randomly to the wind. When they had finished, he watched as she cast a spell that accelerated the growth of the plants. Then she called down a rain storm. Within minutes, green shoots grew into trees and bushes and other plants, which filled the field. They sprouted leaves that within a few minutes turned orange and brown and fell to the ground, and a few minutes later, new vibrant green leaves sprouted and fresh wildflowers appeared, and the cycle began again. After ten cycles or so, the spell ended with the last shedding of the new grove's leaves. Bishop watched in wonder as Elanee beamed at her work, and then he helped her as she began to collect seeds. "Never really appreciated druidic magic much before now, but I gotta admit I'm impressed. It feels different here now too, more peaceful."

She smiled at him. "It's not me, it's Silvanus's work though me. It's easy enough to take the life of one who has taken so many lives of others, and she did deserve death for what she did. But isn't it better to allow that person to pay Nature back? That's what we druids think, and it's certainly better than letting her rot in a gaol."

He looked back at the willow tree. "It can't be that easy. Sounds like some powerful magic to me."

She sighed. "It is indeed. But then I've grown powerful in the past two years. I've been made the archdruid of the Neverwinter Wood, and beyond, as far as the edges of Merdelain. Such power comes with the office, along with a great deal of responsibility. But such powerful magic cannot be cast often, even by an archdruid. For one thing, I had to sacrifice some of my life force to power it."

He muttered, "Your god has some pretty heavy requirements."

She shook her head emphatically. "My god, no. Silvanus would never require me to do this. It was my idea. Mind you, it's not something I'm going to do very often, but then again I hope I don't have to."

He helped her sort the seeds they had gathered. "You've given me a lot to think about."

She handed several pouches to him. "Glad to help, and I mean that, Hunter, or should I say Celaes? And you've got a home near my new sacred grove if you want it, if you don't want to return to the Keep or to Neverwinter. There's an abandoned cabin nearby you might like." She pointed off in the distance. "Now let's do something about that hill. If vegetation isn't restored to hold the soil, the whole thing will give way in a mudslide when the heavy rains come, and then we'll lose that creek. Would you like to help?"

He only thought about it for a moment. "Sure thing, but shouldn't we be getting back? What if there is something I'm supposed to do?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Do you think there is something you're supposed to do to help her?"

He shrugged and looked down, then boldly met her eyes. "No. She just saved my ass from the Wall. But if they figure out who took her, you might need my bow when you go get her back."

Many miles away in the port city of Baldur's Gate, Daeghun Farlong left the modest inn where he found accommodations while he met with the local Harpers. The raven was at his side, his waddling walk accentuated by hops bringing a smile to Daeghun's face despite his sadness. The raven was young and still skittish in the bustling city, but Daeghun's presence calmed him. The brief sea voyage here from Waterdeep gave them time to get to know one another better, but their bond was still fresh. The raven flew up and landed gracefully on his shoulder, no small feat considering the size of the bird, though he was small as far as ravens go. He stroked the side of the bird's head with his slender index finger. "Are you getting hungry, Mas, valael friend? We'll be at my friend's home soon."

The bird responded with a deep, throaty trill. "It is interesting to see so many different two-legged flocks and how they make their nests, but I will be happy when we're back in the forest. And I know you want to see Badger-woman again too."

His cheeks grew warm thinking about Elanee, despite his concern for his daughter. He scolded himself, telling himself he was far too old to behave like a lovestruck boy. But he hadn't felt this way in years, not since the night he found Shayla waiting for him in his room...It occurred to him as he looked down the street that the inn where that happened wasn't far from this very spot either, as if he was coming full circle. He murmured, "Life is strange, Mas."

He hadn't been able to think about that first night with Shayla, or any other night with her for that matter, without ripping open the old wound, until now. He thought back to when he first saw her in a village marketplace during a mission in Zhentil Keep. She was defending a woman being accosted by a pack of local thugs but in way over her head until he and his companions stepped in to help. Esmerelle hadn't liked Shayla at first, yet she talked him into letting her accompany them "to keep the little tin-can brat out of any more trouble until she figures out which end of her sword is the pointy end." He smiled at the memory.

But Shayla was well trained despite having just left West Harbor and despite Esmerelle's skepticism. After observing her in battle he was very impressed with her uncle, who had been head of the West Harbor militia then, without even having met the man. Daeghun could tell he was an old campaigner who had seen at least one unprepared village fall to an attacker and was determined that the same thing wouldn't happen to West Harbor. Shayla told him she and her cousin Georg had been in a friendly competition to become his lieutenant before she took to the road. Thus she definitely knew which end of her sword was pointy, and despite her youth she also had mastered a wicked shield-bash technique.

She was so young...Esmerelle swore she would turn tail and run back home before a tenday was up, but Shayla proved her wrong, and she was still traveling with Daeghun and his company two years later, long after Esmerelle had left them to return to her life on the stage in Neverwinter. The three of them had become close friends by then. He had grown to value Shayla's ferocious fighting skills, her uncanny ability to make anyone feel at ease, and her thirst for justice. But she wasn't afraid to argue with him if she thought he was making the wrong decision.

He also couldn't help but notice that she was an attractive woman, even in her armor. Human women had never interested him, but she was different. Then as the months passed, he caught himself watching her more and more when she wasn't looking (or so he had thought, as she told him later), wanting to touch her thick brown hair or gaze into her emerald eyes, or taste her lips. He found excuses to talk with her just to be with her, and more than once was embarrassed when he realized he was watching her lips, her face, but not listening to what she was telling him.

But he locked his feelings away and refused to make a move in spite of her obvious interest in him too. First off, she was young, he reminded himself again and again, and second, she was human. He had never been one to engage in trysts, and he asked himself what kind of a life could they hope to have together when she would be gone all too soon. He kept this to himself and resolved to make his heart like stone, but he would discover that Shayla had an uncanny ability to read his mind, a skill that would become more evident over their too-brief years together.

So she made the first move. Even then, discovering her waiting for him in his bed dressed in only her chemise, his first instinct was to throw her out for her own good, as well as his. But she was undeterred by his objections and found a counter for all of his arguments as she sat there in his bed with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She pointed out that no one knows how long he or she will live, and told him that it would be foolish of them not to make the most of what time they would have together. She chipped away at the wall he built to protect his heart until it crumbled to dust. And suddenly he couldn't imagine living another day without her.

While nothing more than lying in one another's arms talking half the night away happened that night, within a matter of days, they were officially a couple. By then, they were both tired of trying to save the world and ready to give up the adventuring life and settle down. She took him back to her home, a place she had sworn she would never return to, and the Harbormen welcomed him and made him feel like it was his home too. Two months later they were married, with Esmerelle acting as the bridesmaid and Oleff performing the ceremony.

He murmured, "We were very happy, my love, despite my not being able to give you a child of your own." The raven made a low, rattling sound in his throat, which reminded Daeghun of a cat purring.

But they had each other. They discussed adopting a child or two from one of the orphanages in the cities. Esmerelle was an regular visitor to their home while traveling between Neverwinter and Waterdeep, back to her adventuring life. Then came the day she showed up on their doorstep preceded by her huge belly, wild-eyed and bedraggled, looking like all the fiends of the hells were after her. They never asked what she was running from, but he and Shayla both noticed that she seemed like she was looking over her shoulder all the time. He helped Shayla deliver the baby when the time came. Neither of them asked who the father was, and she never volunteered any information. She asked Shayla to promise take care of her daughter if anything should happen to her, as if she expected her death was imminent. But nothing came for her as the months passed and her baby grew into a healthy toddler.

Esmerelle wasn't made for life in a small village that didn't even have a tavern to perform in, and where each day was much like the previous. It was monotonous, which was comforting as an old quilt to Daeghun and Shayla, but like being in prison to Esmerelle. Restless, she decided to travel and seek out adventure again just for a season. He never told Dee that, nor that he and Shayla both knew Esmerelle well enough to know a season would grow into two or three and she would return infrequently, mainly out of guilt. It wouldn't matter. The girl already had two mothers, and now she would have one in Shayla, while her birth mother would become like a glamorous aunt who would blow into the village on the east wind bearing a trunk full of gifts and disappear just as quickly. The only problem Shayla could see would be if Esmerelle showed up one day expecting to take the girl with her.

And then came the battle that changed their lives forever. It happened so fast. Most of the villagers were out in the fields gathering the last of the harvest. When they saw the fiends approaching, Esmerelle ran back to the house to warn Shayla and get her and her daughter to safety in the swamp while he joined the militia in the rye field. But with their home being on the furthest edge of the village and closest to the swamp, the battle between the King of Shadows and the warlock took place practically on their doorstep. Esmerelle and Shayla ran out the door with their daughter and unknowingly ran right into the middle of it.

He had blamed her for their deaths for a long time. If Esmerelle had stayed with him, Shayla might have remained safe in the house. And their daughter wouldn't have been wounded by the shard that ripped through her mother's body and into hers. He had felt that part of him died that day his love died, and he knew to his shame it had affected how he had raised their daughter, being dutiful but never opening his heart to her. And now that it might be too late...Did he deserve another chance at happiness with Elanee when he had failed his child time and time again?

But it had been his daughter's wish to see them joined. Her attempts at matchmaking had been obvious, clumsy, and fortunately few, but nevertheless, he realized now that they had worked. It was like with Shayla all over again, though she and Elanee were as different as night and day. But Elanee was one of his kind, and they served the same god, and most of all, she was even more at home in the wild than he was.

All those years he had known someone was watching the village, but as there was no threat, he had paid her no mind. He knew the druids liked to observe what was happening throughout the land their circle was responsible for. Naevan was the only one of their circle he ever had dealings with. Elanee was a shadow that traveled silently through the swamp, and he only caught glimpses of her, though he could have confronted her if he had wanted to. When he saw her as his daughter rode into town with her company, he thought that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had to force himself to take his eyes off her. But he immediately dismissed his budding attraction. She was far too young for him, or so he thought until he got to know her better and learned she possessed a maturity far beyond her years.

He realized with a start that he had arrived at his destination while his mind was on love lost and found. When he first arrived Daeghun had made contacts with a few old friends and acquaintances, some who were very old now, but so far his search had been fruitless. No one had any news of his daughter, but they promised to pass the word along and send him word at once if they heard anything. His ship that would take him back north was not due to sail until the next day at highsun, and so he and his raven companion had accepted an invitation to stay with the family of another Harper he had traveled with many years ago, rather than stay at the inn.

Much time had passed since he had last seen Barton, whom he had known around the time he also traveled with Oleff. The last time he had seen him was at his wedding to Shayla. He only recognized his old friend now because of his bright green eyes and his booming laugh that hadn't been diminished by time, though his coal black hair was now white as snow, and his heavily lined face was a map of all his life's experiences. Daeghun smiled as he watched Barton bounced one of his grandsons on his knee as other children ran in and out of the room, interrupting their conversation. Daeghun thought wistfully that he couldn't wait until his daughter had children of her own, and that thought threatened to lead him down the path to despair. But he would not give in to it.

They were finished with supper and were talking over tea and fruit. Barton's wife Faelyn had found an extra chair to serve as a perch for Mas so he could join them at the table, to the delight of the children as he picked up pieces fruit from his plate with his beak and tossed them into the air before catching and swallowing them. He looked over and cawed at the sound of a bird's wings flapping outside the kitchen window. A minute later, someone knocked on the door. "No bird that, is a shapeshifter," Mas informed Daeghun.

One of Barton's sons opened the door, revealing a man who Daeghun guessed was a druid from his plain green robe and the strands of mistletoe woven into his shoulder-length blond forebraids. Barton's son listened to him for a moment then turned to the others. "Father, he says there are two people at the Harper Hall who have come all the way from Rashemen who Daeghun needs to talk to."

The druid stepped into the room and approached the elf. "Are you Daeghun Farlong? It may be nothing, but these two said they are taking a letter north to the temple of Tyr in Neverwinter, but they wouldn't let any of us see it. They were directed to us because one of them, Calishamite from his garb, mentioned "wendersnaven" two times to one of our contacts in the market, and we were trying to determine whether they were serious or only looking for adventure."

Daeghun stood, looking alarmed. "Wendersnaven? They wouldn't know that unless..."

The druid nodded. "That's why he and the Shou lass with him were directed to the hall. We asked him what that meant. The boy doesn't know what it means, though He said the woman who paid for them to bring the letter was askin' about the Wendersnaven in the marketplace in Mulsantir, and that his father made him memorize the word before he left Rashemen and told him to be sure to ask in the marketplaces if anyone could tell him about them. We suspect his father must be a friend of the Harpers or at least recognized that it was a code."

"I must go speak with them at once." Daeghun made a hasty apology to his hosts, but Barton insisted on accompanying him. Mas squawked and flew over to Daeghun, alighting on his shoulder.

The druid, who went by Red Oak, led them to a hidden side entrance at the hall then down the stairs. He knocked four times on a door at the end of a corridor, which was opened by a young human woman Daeghun had met the day before. He was shown into a comfortable sitting room, where two other Harpers were finishing supper with the two travelers in question, who looked like two boys to the causal observer. Daeghun hurried across the room, not wasting time with formalities. "Red Oak told me you have word of my daughter?" The Calishamite boy looked him over skeptically. Daeghun corrected himself. "My foster daughter, Dierdre Farlong." He added a brief description of her and Cillian for good measure. "Please, tell me what you know of her."

The Calishamite boy smiled toothily. "Indeed, that was the name she gave, and that is the northwoman exactly, and her bear, though now she also travels with the great bear spirit Okku, who had come to the city with his mighty army to kill her because of her curse. The entire city watched their battle from the city walls! It was a most glorious battle! Oh, if you could have seen it! But then she defeated him instead." He flushed as his companion hissed his name and nudged him, and he realized the elf was staring at him in horror.

He stood and bowed deeply and asked for forgiveness, but Daeghun urged him on. "Please, I must know where she is no matter how bad the news." The Harpers in the room filed out to give them some privacy, though Barton told Daeghun he would wait outside.

The boy bowed again. "I am Omar, first son of Azim and Mavish, and this is my friend Jade. Your foster daughter asked my father if he could send her missive on when he returned to the west so that her loved ones would know eventually what became of her if the bear god ate her. Oh, but he didn't. Everyone thought she would eat him instead, being afflicted with the spirit eater curse, but she spared him, though some still thought she should be cast from the top of the city walls onto the rocks below."

He flinched as his friend nudged him again. "So anyway, the Thayan mage with her told her she should send her missive anyway in case she cannot find a way to end the curse and well, she dies." He sidestepped another nudge from his companion and regretted that he took after his mother and spoke bluntly. But the elf had a right to know it all. "She paid my father a goodly sum for his trouble, and so my he sent me with Korbuin the carpet monger, who was leaving the next day, rather than have the message be delayed until the rest of my family was returning in the spring. And so here we are."

But their story didn't add up. "You got here all the way from Mulsantir that fast? And yet you have no horses."

The boy looked from his friend to the elf. His friend shrugged and replied, "We had help."

Guessing that no more information would be forthcoming, Daegun changed the subject. "Could I see this missive then? I would like to read it."

Omar shook his head sadly. "Would that I could, but I cannot give it to you. I am sorry, but I was paid to deliver it to the temple of Tyr in Neverwinter so that it might be forwarded to the lady's husband, and I gave my solemn word to my father that I would see it done as she wished." But after another nudge and a whisper from his friend, he thought better of it. "I suppose I would not be breaking my vow to let you see the letter." He reached into his pack and pulled out a leather folder and carefully withdrew a thick letter inside and held it up for Daeghun.

It only took Daeghun a second's perusal to know it was from her. "Yes, that is her hand, and it's addressed to the High Justicar. I know him well. I traveled with him when he was not much older than you. But her husband might be at Crossroad Keep rather than at the temple of Tyr. If it would set your mind at ease, you may travel north with me and I will take you to the High Justicar. There is a ship leaving tomorrow bound for Waterdeep then on to Neverwinter, and I can arrange your passage."

Omar whispered to his friend, who whispered back. They continued in this fashion for a few minutes, testing Daeghun's patience. Finally they made a decision. "We were planning to leave tonight after we bought fresh provisions. We were thinking perhaps you could travel with us instead."

Daeghun was about to object and point out that it would be much faster to go by sea when the boy knelt and untied several cords that were binding what looked like a carpet. He rolled it out as Daeghun looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Let me explain, sir. Our caravan was attacked by bandits, and the gods allowed me to save the life and the money box of Korbuin, the carpet monger. He told me he could not let a debt like that stand. So he pulled this out of one of his wagons and took us far away from the camp and showed us how it works. You see, sir, it flies!"

Daeghun raised an eyebrow. "I have heard of such carpets. I wouldn't be surprised if it's sentient. That was quite a generous gift."

Omar showed how two straps attached to the long fringe on one end were used to guide the carpet. "Indeed, but such carpets are very common in Al Quaddim, where Korbuin was born. He told us he had kept it for an emergency if he needed to make a fast escape or to sell for a magnificent sum when he was ready to retire after this run, but now it is mine. I think...we should all three be able to fit on it if we lash ourselves to it and to each other so that no one falls off."

Lotus muttered, "You were the one who almost fell off, twice."

Omar shrugged. "That is why another person would be helpful, so we can have one asleep and two awake. You should be familiar with landmarks even from the air, and that will save us time if we don't have to stop and ask for directions."

Lotus muttered again, "Not like you ever stop to ask directions. I'm the one who stopped here."

Omar ignored her and continued. "If we take turns sleeping and steering, we should reach your northern city in but a few days!"