he was breathing, and Steorf began ministering to him immediately. In a few moments, the cleric started to come around, and Steorf guided him to a chair.
“I’m fine now,” he assured Steorf and Tazi. “That was much more draining than I’d anticipated. I don’t think I’ll have the energy for my obligations on the fifteenth, but somehow I think Mystra will forgive me.” >
“It looked like you were struggling the whole time,” Steorf observed.
“Something very strong was trying to prevent me from completing the spell. You,”he turned to look at Tazi”have a very powerful enemy.”
Tazi, who had returned to sit by Ebeian, answered, “Yes, I do.” She began to play with the emerald ring on her left hand. “I’ve faced him before and won, though. I can do it again if I have to.”
But her voice lacked conviction even to her own ears. Steorf, assured that the cleric had recovered, moved to stand near Tazi again.
“I didn’t see any of this,” he offered. “Not Ciredor’s hand, not Fannah’s part in it…” he trailed away. When she didn’t say anything, he tried once more. “What do you want to do now?”
Tazi stroked Ebeian’s face.
“I wish I could’ve asked him one more thing,” she whispered, “but I wasted that.”
The glow was gone from his body, and Tazi could see that all that was left of him was a shell. Ebeian was gone forever, his soul stolen away. She got up and faced Steorf.
“What would’ve been that last thing?” he asked her.
Tazi just shook her head.
‘“I’ve lost him, but I’ll be damned if I let that bastard take Fannah, too.”
Steorf nodded slowly and asked, “What do you plan to do?”
That simple question stopped Tazi in her tracks. Her momentum was cut short, and she floundered.
“There’s someone I have to speak to,” she finally said and turned to leave, everything else forgotten.
Steorf started to follow.
“No,” she said, stopping him with a light touch other hand on his thick chest. “I need you to get Fannah and bring her back to my rooms at the Kit. Don’t leave her side for a moment. Where I have to go now, I have to go alone.”
With that, she slipped into the night.
CHAPTER
STORM WEATHER TOWERS
Tazi held her fist poised in the air. She chewed her lip for a moment, trying to decide if this was the right course of action.
I can’t see any other way, she said to herself.
Having made up her mind, she brought her fist down on the thick door. One rap, silence, then two raps.
“Come,” a deep voice invited.
Tazi swung open the heavy door to Erevis Cale’s bedroom. She had been there just a few times before. The only other semi-private room in which she ever spent time with Cale alone was in his pantry, occasionally sharing some brandy with him. Of the two rooms, Tazi preferred the pantry. His bedroom was decidedly uninviting.
The only light in the room came from a tarnished oil lamp on Cale’s oak night table. Tazi found her eyes
had a hard time adjusting to the dim lighting. She understood that Cale didn’t need much light as he kept his furnishings to a minimum, more austere than even her elf friend. Aside from his long, wrought-iron bed and night table, there was just an overstuffed leather chair and a pine trunk near the foot of his bed. Tazi’s eyes lingered for a moment on the trunk and found, despite the way the night had passed, that she couldn’t resist a quick smile at an old memory.
When she was about twelve years old, Tazi began to cut her thieving teeth. The most obvious place to start practicing, she discovered, was at home. With so many rooms and so many people coming and going from the household, there were many opportunities for her to acquire the odd, sundry bauble. One of her mother’s jewels here, a silver candlestick there… and so it went.
She worked her way through most everyone’s quarters, and when the items went missing, the staff took the brunt of the blame. No one suspected
“I’m fine now,” he assured Steorf and Tazi. “That was much more draining than I’d anticipated. I don’t think I’ll have the energy for my obligations on the fifteenth, but somehow I think Mystra will forgive me.” >
“It looked like you were struggling the whole time,” Steorf observed.
“Something very strong was trying to prevent me from completing the spell. You,”he turned to look at Tazi”have a very powerful enemy.”
Tazi, who had returned to sit by Ebeian, answered, “Yes, I do.” She began to play with the emerald ring on her left hand. “I’ve faced him before and won, though. I can do it again if I have to.”
But her voice lacked conviction even to her own ears. Steorf, assured that the cleric had recovered, moved to stand near Tazi again.
“I didn’t see any of this,” he offered. “Not Ciredor’s hand, not Fannah’s part in it…” he trailed away. When she didn’t say anything, he tried once more. “What do you want to do now?”
Tazi stroked Ebeian’s face.
“I wish I could’ve asked him one more thing,” she whispered, “but I wasted that.”
The glow was gone from his body, and Tazi could see that all that was left of him was a shell. Ebeian was gone forever, his soul stolen away. She got up and faced Steorf.
“What would’ve been that last thing?” he asked her.
Tazi just shook her head.
‘“I’ve lost him, but I’ll be damned if I let that bastard take Fannah, too.”
Steorf nodded slowly and asked, “What do you plan to do?”
That simple question stopped Tazi in her tracks. Her momentum was cut short, and she floundered.
“There’s someone I have to speak to,” she finally said and turned to leave, everything else forgotten.
Steorf started to follow.
“No,” she said, stopping him with a light touch other hand on his thick chest. “I need you to get Fannah and bring her back to my rooms at the Kit. Don’t leave her side for a moment. Where I have to go now, I have to go alone.”
With that, she slipped into the night.
CHAPTER
STORM WEATHER TOWERS
Tazi held her fist poised in the air. She chewed her lip for a moment, trying to decide if this was the right course of action.
I can’t see any other way, she said to herself.
Having made up her mind, she brought her fist down on the thick door. One rap, silence, then two raps.
“Come,” a deep voice invited.
Tazi swung open the heavy door to Erevis Cale’s bedroom. She had been there just a few times before. The only other semi-private room in which she ever spent time with Cale alone was in his pantry, occasionally sharing some brandy with him. Of the two rooms, Tazi preferred the pantry. His bedroom was decidedly uninviting.
The only light in the room came from a tarnished oil lamp on Cale’s oak night table. Tazi found her eyes
had a hard time adjusting to the dim lighting. She understood that Cale didn’t need much light as he kept his furnishings to a minimum, more austere than even her elf friend. Aside from his long, wrought-iron bed and night table, there was just an overstuffed leather chair and a pine trunk near the foot of his bed. Tazi’s eyes lingered for a moment on the trunk and found, despite the way the night had passed, that she couldn’t resist a quick smile at an old memory.
When she was about twelve years old, Tazi began to cut her thieving teeth. The most obvious place to start practicing, she discovered, was at home. With so many rooms and so many people coming and going from the household, there were many opportunities for her to acquire the odd, sundry bauble. One of her mother’s jewels here, a silver candlestick there… and so it went.
She worked her way through most everyone’s quarters, and when the items went missing, the staff took the brunt of the blame. No one suspected
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