by Dave Gross
"You fool," she had seethed. "You fool! What were you thinking?"
But she hadn't even given him a chance to explain, just pointed a finger at him and hissed, "You will not see me or know Shar's favor again until I send for you!"
His heart had gone cold. All he'd been able to do was stare as she turned and vanished into the shadows. He hadn't seen heror Bolansince. He had not been summoned to the Sharran temple. Starne, Talisk, and Baret had taken to shunning him. Even Jarull had seemed distant. And when he tried to work the orison that Variance had taught him at his initiation, there had been nothing. Not after a thousand desperate prayers and hours of sitting in the dark. Shar had not answered him.
If Variance wanted to see him He looked up at Jarull hopefully. The big man's face twisted.
"Hope is for the ignorant and the weak," he said in disgust. Keph flinched, and Jarull pointed and said, "There's a bookbinder's shop a street along that way and one level up. Go in. Variance is waiting for you."
Keph scrambled to his feet and ran in the direction his friend pointed.
He found the shop easily enough. It was closed for the night, of course. No light showed around the heavy shutters that covered its windows. Keph swallowed and reached for the door handle. The door was unlocked. He pushed it open and stepped inside, closing the door swiftly.
The shop smelled of leather, paper, and glue. Variance stood over a table on which half a dozen books were laid out. A single candle was set on the table as well, though its flame seemed writhed in shadow, dimming its light to the barest dull glimmer. The light certainly wasn't enough to read by. It came to Keph that Variance didn't need the light. She belonged to Shar. She lived within the darkness. The candle was there for him, a reminder of his weakness.
"Writing," Variance said without looking up, "is a marvelous thing. Someone can write down a thought they had or a story they heard or a description of something they experienced, and that thought or story or experience is preserved. It will last as long as the writing itself lasts. If the writing is copied, it can last even longer. Through writing, even the humblest man or woman can become, in a way, immortal. Without magic. Without the favor of the gods."
She reached out and turned a page in one of the books.. Keph waited in silence while Variance turned another page, and another. He wanted to fall down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He didn't dare. What would another misstep cost him? He waited and the hollow in his heart seemed to grow into an empty, desolate void.
Just when it seemed he had to cry out or go mad, Variance finally looked up.
"And now," she said, "you begin to understand Shar's great sorrow. She may be the Mistress of the Night, but she is also the Lady of Loss. When Selune kindled fire in the darkness of creation, she did so without thought for her sister. Ever since that first dawn, Shar has ached for the simple peace that Selune tore from her." Variance stepped away from the table. "Do you understand, Keph?"
He nodded. He could feel tears on his cheeks. Variance studied him. When she spoke, her voice was soft.
"What were you thinking when you attacked that half-elf?"
"I wanted to hurt her," Keph said. The words burst out of him. "I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me. She mocked me with what I didn't have, so I wanted to take it away from her." He wiped at his face with the heel of his palm. "I wanted to honor Shar with Lyraene's loss!"
"Ah."
Variance turned and began to close the books on the table. Keph clenched his jaw.
"I'm sorry, Variance!" he blurted. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to"
She turned on hini sharply.
"Now," she hissed, "you dishonor Shar! The agony of an enemy's spirit, that is joy to the Mistress of the Night. Regret" She slammed the cover of the final book. "Regret is no honor. Especially false regret." She glared at him. "Everything that you did to Lyraene, you did deliberately."
Keph stumbled back. "No…" he gasped. Variance raised her eyebrows. Keph's hands curled into fists. "I mean, yes. Yes, everything was deliberate. But I didn't mean to dishonor Shar!" He sank down to his knees. "Please, Variance. Forgive me!"
Variance's pale face was cold. "Shar does not forgive."
Keph felt his heart drop out of his chest.
"But," added Variance, "she does teach." She reached down and offered Keph her hand. He took it and rose. "If you wish to truly honor Shar, Keph, you must be patient. The Selunites would erase us from Faerun, just as Selune tried to erase her sister's darkness. Think… if you had been patient, if you had taken Lyraene somewhere else…"
"The priest of Selune wouldn't have found us," Keph said. He clenched his teeth and looked at Variance. "But he did find us. Variance, the Selunites"
The priestess silenced him with a gesture and said, "The Selunites don't recognize Shar's hand in what you tried to do."
"But Lyraene or her friends must have told someone what happened," Keph protested. Variance tilted her head.
"Is this the first you've thought of that possibility?" she asked.
Keph blinked, and flushed. Not one guard had so much as come calling on Fourstaves House since his attack on Lyraene. He'd been so terrified by Variance's rage that the fact hadn't crossed his mind.
"Yes," he admitted in a whisper.
"And how would you have dealt with her accusations if you had carried out your revenge to its fullest extent?"
He swallowed and said, "I didn't think of it."
Variance slapped him across the face.
"Shar favors you more than anyone could have guessed!" she cursed. Keph hung his head. Variance forced his chin up. "I have visited Lyraene," she said. "Shar grants me certain powers over the minds of the weak. Lyraene recalls the duel and her injury, but not your malice. She bears anger for you, but not outrage. You're fortunate I was able to reach her in time."
Keph stared into the priestess's cold eyes, then glanced away.
"Thank you, Variance," he said.
"Patience and subtly, Keph," she said, and she finally released him. "Bolan doesn't believe you have the potential to become a priest."
Keph bristled at the comment. "I"
"Hush." Variance silenced him again. "I don't share Bolan's opinions. Shar has great plans for you, Keph. I'm certain of it. Perhaps they will be revealed soon. Until then, you need to bide your time. Let the spirit inside you burn, but give no one cause to guess your true allegiance. Shar's worship prospers in secretthis is the Dark Goddess's lesson. Do you understand?"
He nodded. She touched her fingers to his forehead in silence, then stepped back.
"You have seen me again. Know Shar's favor once more."
It felt like a yoke had been lifted form his shoulders. Keph gasped in joy.
"Hail to the Mistress of the Night!" he sighed.
Variance gave him a cool smile and folded her hands.
"Go," she said. "I told Jarull to await your return."
Keph bowed low before her and turned, walking through the door and back out into the Stiltways. His heart felt as light as it had after his initiation, but without the sense of invulnerability that had led him astray. A mistaken invulnerability! He breathed a sigh of relief for the second time that night.
Jarull was leaning back in a shadow just where Keph had left him. He started upright as Keph approached and his somber expression was shattered by a grin as he saw Keph's face.
"She forgave you!" he whooped.
"She taught me," Keph said, but he returned Jarull's grin and swung an arm around his shoulder. "Let's see if we can find Starne and the others." He looked along the platform toward the Cutter's Dip. "I feel like tonight is just getting started."
CHAPTER 9
Drinking. Singing. Stumbling from tavern to tavern to tavern by night, then by day, then by night again. A fight. Another fight. Just like old times; Jarull by his side. Better because Starne, Baret, and Talisk were there as well.
And better because of the dark secret in his heart: Shar's favor. The Mistress of
the Night's plans for him.
Variance had told him to let his spirit burn. Keph let it rage like an inferno until it seemed as if every tavern in the Stiltwaysand some beyondknew his name and face. Until even Baret, Starne, and Talisk had, one by one, dropped away, unable to keep up. Until it was just him and Jarull striding the nights once again.
"All right, tosspots, up. Up! Time to go home!"
A guard ran a stick along the bars of the cell while another unlocked the door and swung it wide.
Keph opened sticky eyes to the harmony of squealing hinges and groaning drunks. He sat up on the rough wooden bench he'd managed to claim and looked around at the disorderly cell in Yhaunn's north side guard stationa fine place to spend the night. He hauled himself to his feet and joined the other men and women the city guard had brought in during the night before as they filed out the door, then formed a queue to retrieve any possessions they had been arrested with.
There was no sign of Jarull. A hazy memory swam into Keph's mind: a dash away from the pursuing guard, an ignoble tumble as his foot landed in something wet and slippery, Jarull continuing on and vanishing into the shadows. Lucky Jarull.
The guard at the desk raised her eyebrows as he stepped up.
"Good morning again, Keph. Sleep well?" she asked.
"I think a rat crawled into my mouth while I slept, Fris. You should do something about the pests around here."
"Well, we shove them out the door every morning, but it seems like more just crawl in every night." She pushed Quick and a coin pouch across the desk to him. "Twice in three days you've landed here. Let's try to get it back down to once a month like old times, eh?"
"Your concern is noted, Fris."
Keph wiggled his fingers into his pouch. It was a flat and shriveled thing, wasted away by the past few days' activities. He found a couple of silver coins, though, and slid them back to the guard. She made them disappear as the next inmate stepped up. Keph buckled Quick back around his waist and headed for the guard station's big door.
The light of early morning hit him like a god's vengeance. He groaned and threw up a hand to shade his eyes. The air was already uncomfortably warm. It was going to be a very hot day. With luck he would be able to sleep through most of it.
It was a long, painful stagger to Fourstaves House. His head throbbed, his joints ached, and his mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with wool combed from a sheep's backside. At a public well, he stopped, drew up a bucket of water, and tried to rinse the foul taste from his mouth. The rest of the water he poured over his head until he was gasping from the cold. His hair was still dripping when he reached the doors of Fourstaves House, but at least the pain in his head had ebbed and faded.
The stone guard dogs were still as statues by daylight. Keph resisted the urge to kick them anyway and went inside. The entry hall was filled with savory odors that cut through his hangover to make his stomach growl with desire. Following his nose, he stumbled for the dining room.
Strasus, Dagnalla, Malia, Roderio, and Krin Foxrun were all seated at one end of the table. They fell silent as he walked in. He ignored them and walked straight for the covered trays and dishes set out on a sideboard. Conversation returned slowly.
"I think I've found a clue in the coins of the cache," Krin said. "The other artifacts may be ancient Netherese, but most of the coins are more recent and come from one of Netheril's survivor states, Anauria. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find enough information about Anaurian rulers to date the coins accurately, but we do know Anauria fell to ores in the Year of Fallen Guards, 111 DR. No more Anaurian coins were minted after that. Of course, the coins could have been collected after the country's fall, but with so many in one place I would guess that it's more like they came directly from Anauria."
"Good, good," nodded Strasus. "So we have an end date, then." He stroked his beard. "And more than two hundred years before the founding of Selgaunt and Saerloon. What about-?"
"a possible beginning date?" Krin sounded pleased with himself. Keph rolled his eyes in boredom as he began lifting covers and heaping a plate with grilled bread, olives, spiced chicken livers, and boiled eggs. He mouthed nonsense words along with Krin as his brother-in-law answered Strasus. "Among the coins was a sealed pouch containing fifty new gold coins from Calimshan celebrating the ascension of Qysar Shoon III of the Shoon Imperium, an event that occurred in 107 DR, the Year of the Fledglings. The striking on the coins was still sharp. They hadn't been circulated. I think they became part of the cache soon after their minting."
Strasus was stroking his beard so quickly Keph was surprised the whiskers weren't falling out.
"Well done, Krin," the old man said.
"Calishite coins among artifacts from Netheril and a Netherese survivor-state," commented Dagnalla. "That's an odd combination. I didn't think the two civilizations had much to do with each other."
Strasus sighed and shook his head. "I'm certain the tiles from the cache would tell us more, if only I could translate the writing on them. They resist even magical translation." His fingers slowed. "A picture begins to emerge, however. On the eve of Anauria's fall, artifacts of Netherese heritage are smuggled out of the doomed nation. Those escorting the artifacts make for Calimshansome ally there has sent them Calishite coin. They travel east from their doomed nation and south, skirting the settlements growing in the Dale-lands, and head for the docks at a rough quarrying community, perhaps to seek passage across the Sea of Fallen Stars and south…"
"But why abandon their treasures?" Dagnalla asked. "And why avoid the Dalelands?"
"If they were traveling in secret, they might have wanted to avoid anyone who could seize their treasures," suggested Roderio. "And when they had to meet with other people in Yhaunn, maybe they hid their treasures with the intention of retrieving them later, but were unable to go back."
"Possibly. But why were they going to Calimshan?"
Keph dragged a chair away from the table with a loud, penetrating scrape.
"Most importantly," Keph said, "why bother asking?"
He set his laden plate down and dropped into the chair with a satisfied groan. Malia gave him a look of disgust.
"Some people want to know things, Keph," she said. "Things other than what the inside of a jail cell looks like and how much ale they can drink before they throw up."
"Knowledge for knowledge's sake, then?" Keph asked. He impaled a liver on his fork and gestured with it. Spice-stained sauce splattered across the table. "Nothing purely practical, like unlocking the secret of some forgotten Netherese magic, for instance?"
Strasus looked at him with a long face. "Wouldn't that be a good thing to know?" he asked.
His voice was slow with the infuriating patience of an adult talking to a child. Keph's lips curled. He popped the liver in his mouth, and talked around it as he chewed. "How much ale you can drink before you throw up is a good thing to know, too."
Roderio flushed, blood showing bright red through the pale translucency of his newly healed skin. "Charming as ever, aren't you, Keph?"
"I have to keep up with you, Rodo."
His brother's face looked ready to bleed. Keph held back a satisfied smirk as he tucked into his breakfast. He glanced up at his family. Malia, Krin, and Roderio were staring at him. Strasus and Dagnalla were looking at each other, their old hands clasped.
"Go on," Keph mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Keep talking. It sounded really interesting. Hmpkno, that's not right…" He swallowed. "I'm sorry, I meant to say it sounded really dull."
Roderio flung his napkin onto the table. "No," he said, "I think we're finished. I have research to work on."
"New potions?" Keph asked.
Roderio shot him a burning glare and turned away sharply to stride out of the room. Krin and Malia glanced at each other, then rose as well. They left without saying anything. Keph looked at his father and mother. "Well?" he asked.
Emotion flickered across Dagnalla's face. "Keph," she said, her voice and eyes w
eary, "you look terrible."
"I've been working on my own research, mother. Comparing the insides of jail cells."
Dagnalla closed her eyes for a moment.
Strasus leaned forward, admonishing, "Keph…"
Keph paused in his eating to ask, "Are you going to lecture me now?"
"No."
"Good."
He went back to eating.
"Keph," Strasus said with a sigh, "Hane Cartcoster came to see us yesterday evening. She's still looking for Jarull. She'd heard that he's been seen around Yhaunn with you, but he hasn't been home for more than two ten-days now. Do you know where he is?"
"No," Keph answered, and for the moment at least, it was the truth.
"Hane is worried about him."
"Hane is always worried about Jarull."
"I know," agreed Strasus, "but this time she's really worried, and I think for good cause. She asked us to try locating him with magic. We couldn't find him."
The food in Keph's mouth turned dry and bitter as ashes. He choked it down and looked up slowly.
"If you ever" he spat, "tried doing that to me, I would never forgive you. Never!'
"Keph, are you listening to us?" said Dagnalla. "We couldn't find Jarull. If you have seen him, then"
"I heard you." Keph dropped his fork onto his plate. The ring Variance had given his friend, he guessed immediatelyit must have carried some kind of protection against divination magic. He glared at his parents. "Did you hear me? I don't want you casting your magic on me like that."
"You wouldn't want us to look for you if we thought you were in danger?" Strasus asked. He took Dagnalla's hand again, and his mouth went hard. "No, Keph. I'm not going to promise you that. We're not going to promise you that."
Keph clenched his teeth and grumbled, "Because you think I need your help? Because you don't think I can take care of myself?"
