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."— lost in thought."Kelemvor nodded and returned to the feast.When they were done, Adon and Cyric went to work saving what meat they could from the animal, wrapping it tightly for their dinner."I must speak with you," Kelemvor said, and Midnight nodded, following him as they made their way to the road.Midnight had already sensed his intent, and was not surprised when Kelemvor made his request."There must be a reward, or I cannot go with you."Midnight's frustration was evident."Kel, this makes no sense! At some point you're going to have to tell me what this is all about!"Kelemvor said nothing.Midnight sighed."What shall I ply you with this time, Kel, more of the same?"Kelemvor hung his head."It must be different every time.""What else can I give you?" Midnight put her hand up to the fighter's cheek.Kelemvor grabbed Midnight's hand roughly, forcing it away from him as he broke from her embrace."It is not what I desire that matters, only what you are willing to give! The reward must be something of value to you, but worth what I must go through to earn it."Midnight could barely hold back her anger."What we have together is of value to me."Kelemvor nodded slowly as he turned to face her."Aye.And to me."Midnight moved forward, stopping before she came close enough to touch the fighter."Please tell me what's wrong.I can help you —""No one can help me!"Midnight looked at Kelemvor.The same violent desperation she had seen in his eyes at Castle Kilgrave was there now."I have conditions," Midnight said."Name them.""You will ride with us.You will defend Cyric, Adon, and me from attack.You will help in the preparation of meals and setting up camp.You will impart any information you have that is relative to our safety and well being, even if it is only your opinion." Midnight drew a breath."And you will follow any direct orders I give you.""My reward?" Kelemvor said."My true name.I will tell you my true name after we have spoken to Elminster of Shadowdale."Kelemvor nodded."It will suffice."The adventurers traveled the rest of the day, returning to their earlier practice of sharing two mounts.That night, after they set up camp and feasted.Midnight did not go to Kelemvor.Instead, she sat beside Cyric, keeping him company on the watch.They spoke of the places they had seen, with neither ever telling what they had done in those strange lands.Soon, though.Midnight grew tired and left Cyric, settling into a deep, restful sleep that was shattered by an image of a horrible black beast with glowing green eyes and a slavering, fanged mouth.She woke with a start, and for a moment she thought she saw tiny blue-white fires playing over the surface of the amulet.But that was impossible.Mystra's power had been returned to the goddess, and the goddess had been slain.The magic-user heard movement and reached for her knife.Kelemvor stood above her."Time for your watch," he said and vanished into the night.As Midnight sat by the fire, she watched the darkness for signs of Kelemvor, but there were none.A few feet away from her, Cyric tossed and turned in his sleep, plagued by some personal nightmare.Adon found he could not sleep at all.He was disturbed by the secret he had inadvertently uncovered.Kelemvor seemed to have no memory of Adon's presence during his metamorphosis from panther to human.Or was Kelemvor merely pretending not to remember? Adon wanted desperately to confide in someone about what he had seen, but he felt honor-bound as a cleric to respect the privacy of the fighter.It seemed clear that he should let Kelemvor's secret remain just that until the fighter either chose to confide in his comrades or became a threat to the party due to his affliction.Adon stared into the night and prayed that he had made the right decision.Tempus Blackthorne lit a torch before he entered the tunnel, then he wrestled with the supplies he had purchased.The tunnel had been expertly constructed.The walls and ceiling were perfectly cylindrical, and the floor was a long two-foot wide plank.The walls had been polished then sealed with a substance that resembled marble when it dried.Blackthorne still regretted killing the craftsmen and fabricating the story of their accidental death.He wondered if anyone believed him.In the chamber above, Bane was bellowing incoherently in a tongue Blackthorne had never heard before.The emissary listened as he climbed the stone steps carefully and practiced the routine he had helped Lord Bane install as a fail-safe against intruders: right foot on the first step, left on the third.Right foot joining left on the third step.Left up one, right up two, then retracing the steps in reverse, and returning upward once more in a different sequence.Any who varied from this routine would be sliced to ribbons by the traps Bane had created.Blackthorne teetered on one foot as he struggled to keep hold of the packages.He touched the lever on the wall, pulling it back three clicks, forward nine, back two.The wall before him vanished, and Blackthorne stepped through into Bane's secret chamber.The mage turned away from the sight of Bane's dark, bubbling flesh and the froth of blood at his mouth.There was a new hole in the wall beside the Black Lord, and Blackthorne saw that one of the restraints had been torn from the wall.The bed frame had been shattered long ago, and the mattress torn to ribbons.Bane screamed, his body convulsing as the fit grew worse.Blackthorne was attempting to devise a new excuse for the Black Lord's absence when the noises behind him abruptly ceased [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]