The Summoning

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

28 Nightal, the Year of the Unstrung Harp

The celebration was an uneasy one, and not only because Elminster spent the evening glowering at Melegaunt. Galaeron kept glimpsing a dark shape just beyond the glowcircle, a stout little figure that vanished into the shadows the instant he turned to look upon it. Were it not for the agitation of the sentries, he would have dismissed the apparition as the product of a weary mind, but the night watchers kept flitting about up under the stars, swinging from tree to tree or rushing silently along barren limbs to scrutinize something on the ground. Still, they never gave the owl call, so perhaps it was no more than the playmagic of mischievous Wood elf children, and Galaeron was content to take his cue from his mother's people. The moon rose silver and bright, filling the wood with a milky snowlight, and out came the starlutes. The melodies were airy and cheerful, as always among Wood elves. Takari made a show of dragging Galaeron away from his mother-and coincidentally also Melegaunt and Vala- and being the first to dance. Though the song would have been more suited to a feather step, she pressed herself into Galaeron's arms and began a matched gambol.

"Don't overdo it," Galaeron said, struggling to stay in step as they skipped through the moonlit snow. "You still look weak."

"I'm well enough." Takari pursed her lips into a playful pout. "The only wound that troubles me is the one in my heart-the one you put there tonight."

"I'm sorry." Galaeron's apology was sincere, for he had been so absorbed with Elminster, Turlang, and the rest that he had not even thought of inquiring as to whether Takari had arrived. "I should have stopped by your nesting as we came in."

"My nesting?" Takari raked her heel down his shin. "I'm talking about Vala, ore nose! What's wrong with you, taking a human for your mate… over me?"

"Vala?" Galaeron's foot nearly slipped from beneath him. "I haven't taken her!" Takari gave him a doubtful look. "Not even once?"

Now Galaeron did slip, stumbling over a half-buried log and bringing them both down in the snow The fall drew a chorus of laughter, and the musicians embarrassed them further by slipping into a slow meter.

"Not even once," Galaeron whispered, lying in the snow. "Though it's not really your business who I take."

Takari gave him a frisky smile. "But it could be." With that, she leaped to her feet and took a good-natured bow, then stretched a hand toward Vala. "Come help me, human. This one is such a hoof-foot it will take two to keep him in step."

Before Vala could object, Morgwais pushed her out to join Takari and Galaeron, and soon the three of them were whirling around the glowcircle arm-in-arm. Vala could keep even the quickest meter, but her steps were heavy and conspicuous by elf standards. Nevertheless, their antics proved inspirational, and soon the rest of the Wood elves were gliding about the glowcircle in whirling trios, stomping the beat and pumping their knees like centaurs on parade. Even Lady Morgwais joined the merriment, slipping one arm around Elminster's waist and the other around Melegaunt's-no easy task, given the girth of the pair.

Sometime during the festivities, Aris dropped a six-foot boulder next to the Honor Chair and set to work, hammering and clinking to the music. The boulder quickly assumed the rough shape of three whirling bodies, and it was not long before dancers began to spin past to check his progress. The figures emerged as if by magic, the giant not so much giving them form as finding it within the stone, and it soon grew apparent Aris would be leaving his hosts with a treasure worthy of Rheitheillaethor's greatest masters.

Half a night later, the eyes of the humans began to droop, as did Galaeron's. Not wishing to admit publicly that he now felt the need to sleep, he excused himself on the pretext of showing his companions to someplace they could rest- Takari was quick to volunteer her nesting-and they fell asleep to the sound of Aris's clinking and elven star lutes.

Galaeron awoke to darkness and silence, no snoring from Melegaunt's corner, no more of Vala murmuring her son's name in her sleep, no star lutes in the distance, none of Aris's hammering. There was only the breeze rustling against the walls and the creaking trees, and, farther off, the Heartblood gurgling down its channel. A hand touched his shoulder and gave it a tentative shake. Galaeron opened his eyes, then found his dark sight blurred by a thin film of mucus and wiped his eyes. That was one of the many hard things for him to accept about sleeping, the half second of thinking he was going blind whenever he woke.

When his sight cleared, he found Takari kneeling beside him, the corners of her cupid's bow mouth turned up in a slight sneer. There was no one else in the nesting.

"The others are outside," she explained, following his gaze. "They needed time to get down quietly, and I wanted to watch you sleep."

Galaeron grimaced. He had seen drool running from the corner of human mouths often enough to know what sleep looked like. "Not a pretty sight."

"Awful," Takari agreed, twisting her nose up. "Why do you do it?"

Why indeed? Galaeron wondered. "A bad habit I picked up from Melegaunt, I think." He sat up and shrugged, then found himself running his palms over his face the way humans sometimes did. He tore his hands down. "What's going on?" "There are beholders coming."

Galaeron was on his feet and instantly awake. "But the owl calls-"

"The night watchers don't know yet." Though Takari wore her tomb guard's cloak, she made no move to rise as he shrugged into his chain mail. "Your frog-eyed friend warned me." "Frog-eyed friend?"

"I think his name was Malik," Takari said. "Why didn't you bring him to the celebration?"

"I didn't know he was still with us," Galaeron confessed, struggling to make sense of what he was hearing. "Did he mention phaerimm?"

"He said there was one. Melegaunt thought it best to leave quietly and draw them into the Dire Wood."

Galaeron nodded, then pulled his cloak over his shoulders and reached for his sword belt. Having seen what the creatures had done to Thousand Faces, Galaeron was not eager to have a battle fought in Rheitheillaethor-not even with the great Elminster there to help.

Takari caught his hand. "Melegaunt said he can go without you. The rest would do you good." "That doesn't sound like Melegaunt. Are you sure?"

"Look at yourself," said Takari, not answering. "You're turning into a human, sleeping half the night and struggling with something inside. Lady Morgwais isn't far wrong, you know Maybe you are falling in love with Vala."

"Hardly." Galaeron's voice was sharper than he meant. He freed his belt from her grasp and started for the door. "But I do need to see this through with the humans. I'm the one who breached the Sharn Wall." "You were doing your duty." Galaeron slipped through the door without answering.

Takari followed him out onto the branch. "And you weren't the only one there."

In the creamy moonlight, Galaeron could see the edge of her leather scout's armor showing above the collar of her cloak. "You're still not strong enough. And if Melegaunt doesn't need me, he doesn't need you."

"He certainly does." Takari sprang off the limb and caught a rope, then slid toward the snowy ground. "Unless you think you can find the Dire Wood?"

Galaeron knew by how she had asked the question that he could not. As an elf, he felt reasonably at home in most forests, but he also knew how maddening it could be to navigate through an endless expanse of trees-especially if one's goal happened to be concealed by protective magic. Offering no further argument, he caught hold of the rope, then started down after Takari.

They touched ground not far from the glowcircle, where Melegaunt, Vala, and Malik stood waiting beside Aris and his sculpture. The statue depicted Galaeron dancing with Vala and Takari, and it was every bit the masterpiece he had expected-if a little embarrassing. Vala's body was pressed close against his, her scabbard and legs almost horizontal as she whirled on his hip. Her chin was raised slightly, as though they were about to kiss, and the smile on her face seemed both beguiling and tender. On Galaeron's other side, Takari was wrapped into his arm, their bodies not quite touching, her head thrown back in wild abandon. Though her mouth was open in laughter, there was a wistfulness to her expression that Galaeron had seen on a Wood elf's face only once, when his mother called the family together to tell how her heart ached to return to Rheitheillaethor.

Galaeron's own smile seemed lost and lonely, his gaze fixed a short distance away Though caught physically between the two women, he was separated from them in mood by a lowered brow and narrowed eyes. The expression made him look sullen and hinted at a darker struggle within, but it was impossible to say whether Aris had actually captured this or whether Galaeron was reading it into the work on his own.

Takari circled the statue for a long time, then finally stopped at Vala's side and took her hand. Vala cocked her brow and looked down at their intertwined fingers, but did not try to free herself.

"It's remarkable!" Takari gasped. She turned to Aris and, finding herself staring at his knee, tipped her head back. "That is the most beautiful stone I have ever seen!"

This drew a meager smile from the stone giant. "The beauty was in the dance." Though he did not speak loudly, his deep voice rolled through the trees like thunder. "It is only a small matter to capture what one sees."

Melegaunt held his finger to his lips. "Quiet, or we will be what is captured." He turned to Takari. "Unless Elminster left?"

"Have no fear of him," said Malik. "Elminster will not be waking soon."

Melegaunt's face grew alarmed. "What? You didn't do anything-"

"Me? An assassin?" scoffed Malik. "I cannot even tell a decent lie! I mean only that he is asleep in the stormlodge."

"Asleep?" Melegaunt frowned at this. "You're sure it was Elminster?"

"Of course I am sure," said Malik. "I saw him myself, tucked under his furs with two women." "Triplewild will do that to a man," chuckled Takari.

Galaeron was not quite so amused. "Elf women?" A cold anger was welling up inside him. "Which women?"

The jealousy in his voice drew a frown from Takari. "Not your mother. I saw Lady Morgwais leave for her nesting alone."

"That means nothing." The words slipped from Galaeron's mouth almost before he realized he was speaking. "She might have sneaked back."

Takari's scowl changed from disapproval to shock, but it was Melegaunt who spoke.

"Careful of that shadow, my friend." He nodded to Takari. "Perhaps we should go, if we want to lay another trail for the beholders."

"Fine by me." Takari continued to look at Galaeron. "I think Galaeron has had his fill of Rheitheillaethor."

She led them away from the river, passing close enough to the stormlodge that Galaeron could hear wet human snoring. He veered over to look inside, but felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You are doing yourself harm," said Melegaunt. "Suspicion is the food of wrath."

"If Lady Morgwais is not there, my suspicions will be allayed."

"They won't" Melegaunt released Galaeron's shoulder, leaving him free to do as he chose. "You'll doubt what you saw, or you will think that even if she wasn't there when you looked, she could have been there the night before. Doubt is the way of the shadow, and it is a powerful way indeed. Only trust can defeat it."

Melegaunt walked after the others, leaving Galaeron to his decision. "Go ahead and look," said Malik, coming up behind Galaeron. "In my experience, you cannot watch a woman too closely. They are all faithless harlots who will betray their husbands every chance they have." "And you know this how?" asked Galaeron.

"As 1 told you, by my experience," said Malik. "My own wife I always kept safely locked in my house in Calimshan, and still she betrayed me at the first opportunity."

'Truly?" Shaking his head at the strangeness of human customs, Galaeron started after the others. "Then I shall take a lesson from you."

Malik looked puzzled, but fell in at Galaeron's side. "I suppose there are things a man does not want to know about his mother."

"Fortunately, I am an elf." Though Galaeron resented the human's witless slighting of his mother, he held his tongue for fear of giving his shadow another foothold. "My mother's decisions are her own to make. She and my father have not shared a house for thirty years."

Malik nodded knowingly. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must be hard for your father to see your name besmirched in such low fashion."

"Besmirched?" Galaeron felt himself growing angry over the disgrace-and knew instantly that the ire was not his own. No elf would consider it dishonorable for a woman to follow her heart. "It is not the same with elves as humans. There was no dishonor in her decision."

'Truly? I was not aware that elves were so free with their women." Malik looked into the dark forest, muttering something about there being no honor among fools.

They passed the village boundary, where the night watchers were observing from their perches in the trees. Takari offered no explanation for their furtive departure. Inhabitants and guests of Rheitheillaethor were free to come and go as they wished, so long as they did nothing to betray the village. Nor did she or Galaeron return the waves of farewell that came their way. With humans present, it would have been unthinkable to betray the positions of the sentries.

A hundred paces beyond the village, Galaeron asked, "Didn't you have a horse, Malik?" "Her name is Kelda."

Malik opened his hand to display a set of reins, and suddenly the mare was behind him, her breath shooting white plumes over her master's shoulder. Galaeron looked back at the silvery snow and was astonished to see a long line of hoof prints alongside their own.

"I am beginning to see how you sneaked into Rheitheillaethor," said Galaeron. "Very impressive." Malik shrugged. "It is a gift of the One." The One?"

Malik pretended not to hear the question, which only raised Galaeron's curiosity to the height of suspicion. He began to imagine the little man being the agent of some powerful archwizard or merciless tyrant-or even of the phaerimm themselves-but of course that was ridiculous. Malik hardly seemed able to attend to himself and his horse, much the less the business of some powerful and nefarious master. Such suspicions could only be the work of Galaeron's shadow.

They continued in silence for some distance, then Galaeron said, "Thank you for coming back to warn us about the beholders. If we can spare Rheitheillaethor their depredations, you will have the gratitude of every elf in the High Forest."

"You must think nothing of it," said Malik. "It was no great trouble. Because you cannot see a man does not mean he is not there."

Galaeron spent a few moments sorting through the statement, then asked, "You were with us the whole time?"

"A little distance behind," said Malik. 'Talking trees have always made Kelda nervous."

Galaeron frowned. "If you were with us, then how could you know the beholders escaped Turlang?"

"I don't know they have," answered Malik, "only that they will be here soon." Galaeron grew irritated. "How do you know?"

"Because Turlang's followers did not misdirect all of our pursuers," explained Malik. "One of the beholders was a very beautiful and cunning one. It lagged behind the rest and entered the wood a little north of the others and found, er-" He seemed to struggle with the words, then said, Truly, the thing was a genius! I did not see it until it was on me, staring at me with all those wonderful eyes." Galaeron had a sinking feeling. "How did you escape?"

"I, uh… Kelda is very…" Malik struggled to recall, then finally gave up and shrugged. "Why is that important? All that matters is I am here to warn you."

The qualmish feeling in Galaeron's stomach changed to fear, and he felt his hands curl into fists. "And what happened to the beholder? The one with the wonderful eyes?"

"It went after the others, 1 think. It wouldn't have been safe for it to go after you alone."

The grinding of his own teeth filled Galaeron's ears. "And how did you mark our trail?"

"What?" Malik's hand slipped inside his cloak, no doubt reaching for a hidden dagger. "You accuse me of betraying you?"

"Of course not." Certain that the anger he felt was as much his shadow's as his own, Galaeron reminded himself of how the beholder had beguiled Aris in Thousand Faces. Even if Malik had laid a trail, he was not to blame for his actions. "But why do you think the beholder let you go?"

"I see what you are thinking." Malik slipped a hand under his turban to scratch at something on his brow. "I am not that big a fool. Beholders are certainly cunning and handsome creatures, but I am a man of great will and stronger mind. 1 could never be tricked by one." "Oh, never."

As Galaeron spoke, he waved his hand across Malik's face, and taking care not to use Melegaunt's coldmagic, started the incantation of a magic-dismissing spell.

"Murdering sorcerer!" Malik's hand dropped from his turban into his cloak and came out with a curved dagger. "Hold your tongue!"

Galaeron finished his incantation in time to jump back and avoid being sliced open. A torrent of fear and excitement raced through him, and with it came his shadow self, welling up from the darkness deep inside him. He saw his foot lash out and catch Malik behind the knee, dropping him to his back. Then Galaeron was over him, standing nose-to-snout with an angry-looking Kelda, using one foot to pin the little man's dagger hand in the snow.

"Stay your hand, I beg you!" Malik raised his free arm to shield his head. "I swear on my life, I never meant to betray you or your friends!"

Vala caught hold of Galaeron's arm. "What in the name of the Red Gauntlet are you doing?"

Galaeron pushed Kelda's snout aside, then stepped off Malik's trapped wrist. "One of the beholders beguiled him. I had to dispel its magic."

Vala glanced down at the arm she held. "So why do you need that?"

Galaeron looked down and was astonished to find his hand holding a half-drawn sword.

"By the Moon Harp!" Galaeron swore. He was so shaken he could only stare at the weapon. He had no memory of reaching for the weapon, even less of what he intended to do with it. He let the blade slide back into its scabbard, then began to fumble at his weapon belt, his hands trembling so hard he could not undo the clasp. "I could have killed him!"

"Yes, and you would have been lost." Melegaunt slipped past Vala and stood beside Galaeron. "Did I not warn you about using magic?" "1 didn't use coldmagic, only my own."

"No magic is your own," Melegaunt said. Despite the sternness of his words, his voice was soft. "All magic is power borrowed, and ever has unearned power opened the door to ruin."

Galaeron's hands finally stopped trembling long enough to undo his belt.

"Leave it," Melegaunt said. "Better to reach for a sword than a spell."

That is easy for you to say." Malik pushed himself upright. "You are not the one he attacked."

"At least his sword is still in its scabbard," said Vala, eyeing Malik's dagger. "I would say neither of you had his wits about him."

Malik seemed as surprised as Galaeron to find a weapon in his hand. He shrugged. "A man must defend himself."

Aris and Takari arrived, Aris kneeling down behind Vala and still looming over the group, Takari stopping at Vala's side and raising her brow at the sight of Malik's horse. Before standing, Malik gathered a fold in his robe and drew his dagger through it to dry the blade. As it emerged, Galaeron noticed a resinous smear on the face of the blade. "Malik, did you mark our trail with a blaze?" "A blaze?" Malik asked. "What is that?"

He opened his robe to put the dagger away, but Takari snatched it from his hand. She ran her finger over the sticky resin several times, then held it to her nose.

"This blade has sap on it." Takari looked as though she might sheathe it in Malik's chest. "You've been cutting bark."

Malik's eyes bugged out like a pair of bird eggs. "By the Black Sun-the beholders! I marked our trail for them!"

"The Black Sun?" demanded Vala, who looked like she might kill Malik before Takari had the chance. "You worship Cyric?"

Malik winced, then closed his eyes and nodded. "But I beg you, do me no harm! It is not on his account I betrayed you."

"No one will harm you," said Aris. The giant stood the little man on his feet. "I myself have felt the beguiling magic of beholders." Malik dared to look up. "You will protect me?"

"The blame is not yours," said Aris. "Their magic is powerful."

"But he did cut Turlang's trees-and we brought him into the forest," said Vala. She looked to Galaeron. "What will that mean for your mother?"

It was Takari who answered. 'Turlang will never trust Lady Morgwais's word again, but if the village attends to the wounded trees and doesn't let them die, 1 think he will permit us to stay."

"Permit you to stay?" Galaeron drew a calming breath, then turned to Malik. "When was the last time you saw the beholder?"

Malik thought for a moment, then shuddered. "After the dancing ended. They are waiting up…" He paused and looked ahead, searching the forest for a familiar landmark, then gestured vaguely ahead. "Up where the trail turns toward the village. I, uh, 'blazed' that trail, too."

Takari glanced at Galaeron with a question in her eye, but he gave a quick shake of his head and looked away Both knew exactly where Malik meant, but Galaeron did not want to tell the humans about the trailmaze-not when he had already done so much to endanger Rheitheillaethor.

"There's nothing to be done about the blazes now," said Galaeron. "And every minute we hesitate only makes it more likely they'll try to find the village itself. We have to leave another way and draw them after us."

Takari pointed at Malik. "What about that one? You are responsible for him by the pledge that Lady Morgwais vouchsafed to Turlang."

Vala set a hand on the pommel of her darksword. "I can think of a solution."

"That would not be fair," rumbled Aris. "I do not know about this Black Sun he worships, but he has been a true friend to me." "Then I suppose we have no choice except to take him along," said Melegaunt. "We certainly can't leave him running lose in Turlang's forest"

"No?" The smile that creased Malik's face was suspiciously broad-or so it seemed to Galaeron. "May the One rain a thousand blessings down on you all!"

"I'd leave well enough alone, were 1 you," growled Vala. "Aris only owes you one life, as best I can figure."

Galaeron fell in at the end of the line behind Vala, then suggested to Melegaunt that he and Aris follow a few dozen paces behind Takari As they angled off to the north, Galaeron looked behind them and saw the trail Malik had blazed. Within a few hours, someone from the village would discover the atrocity and dress the wounds with special salves to aid the healing bark, but the damage would never fade. For as long as the trees remained standing, the long line of blazes would point straight toward the Heartblood River, where Rheitheillaethor stood hidden on the bent shore. Not for the first time, he wondered just how high a price he would be forced to pay to save Evereska.

A few minutes later, they crossed into a region of impenetrable thorn hedges and hidden precipices where the only safe footing was down the center of the snowy path. A bewildering array of forks and branches split off the main trail, winding along the rims of hedge-capped abysses and down bramble-walled tunnels, but the humans failed to notice any of the alternatives. The labyrinth's magic worked counter to intuition. Instead of presenting the intruder with a bewildering array of choices, the trailmaze allowed intruders to see only the path they happened to be following at the time. All of these trails twined back on each other in a tangled snarl of endless loops, slyly feeding the interloper from one circle to another without his knowledge. Though Rheitheillaethor suffered few invaders, those who did assault the village were usually found in the maze, either dead of starvation or trapped in the bottom of a hidden pit. At last, they emerged from the trailmaze, the humans none the wiser. The gray light of a winter dawn was brightening the sky behind the eastern treetops, filling the forest with shadows so faint they almost did not exist. They traveled a little more than a mile, then Galaeron called to Takari with the wit wit wit of a cardinal. She responded with a buzzing chick-a-dee call, and Galaeron knew she had located their foes. He studied the wood to the south and saw nothing except an endless tangle of snow-caked branches. Along the Desert Border, he might have hoped to match Takari's sharp eye-but here in her home, he would have to leave matters in her hands. He told her as much by repeating the cardinal's call twice more, and she led the way onward.

They traveled in single file, stepping only in Takari's tracks to avoid snapping an unseen stick or rustling a jumble of twigs. Aris's footfalls were as silent as Galaeron's, but Malik and his mount were by far the quietest in the group, Kelda placing her hooves more like those of a unicorn than a horse. There was more to Malik than being a simple Cyric worshiper, Galaeron felt certain-but he did not dwell on his suspicions, lest he invite a badly-timed attack from his shadow self.

The morning shadows were just growing darker when Takari began to move more rapidly, leading them just fast enough so that it became difficult to travel without making noise. Melegaunt sent a shiver up their spines by stepping on a stick and filling the air with a low crunch. Vala slipped on a slope and fell to her knees with a soft thud and muffled curse. As they crossed a broad creek, Aris broke through the ice, and a loud splash purled through the trees. Galaeron did not need to look to know their foes were following somewhere behind. Takari had increased the pace to attract their attention, and now she was leading them closer to the Dire Wood.

The sun finally made a full appearance, an orange disk hanging low in the trees, shining down into the forest and striping the snow with trunk-shadows as long as some roads. Takari began to vary the pace, slowing for a time and wandering an erratic course, then plowing ahead in a sudden, steady surge. Galaeron knew without looking that their enemies were preparing to attack, trying to slip unseen along their flanks to cut the party off. Takari was using the same trick that a band of Darkhold Zhentarim had once used against Galaeron's patrol, feigning fatigue and poor discipline so the pursuers would hold their attack in hopes of catching the quarry at rest. Galaeron tried to help by acting the part, gulping down handfuls of snow and quietly instructing the others to do likewise. Once or twice, he even lagged behind, trying to convince the beholders that with enough patience, they might pick off a straggler and make their job that much easier.

At last, the forest seemed to thin ahead, the barren trunks of the sugar maples and shadowtops giving way to a broad, blurry expanse of white. At first, Galaeron thought they might be coming to a meadow or snow-covered lake, but as they drew closer, the pale blur resolved itself into a wall of albino oak trees. Amazingly, they were still in full leaf, and they were completely white, from the bases of their alabaster trunks to the height of their blonde crowns. Galaeron could even see a few ivory acorns hanging from their white stalks.

Takari gave a series of sharp siskin shicks, and Galaeron realized he was looking at the Dire Wood. He had expected it to be darker, more ominous-twisted, somehow, and tangibly evil. Instead, it looked like something out of an elven myth, beautiful and illusory and ancient beyond the ages. Galaeron answered with his cardinal's wit wit wit, and Takari stopped, nocking an arrow and spinning to fire in the same quick motion.

"Run for the white trees!" Galaeron shoved Vala forward. "Melegaunt can use his magic there."

Takari's arrow hissed past Galaeron's head and thudded into something soft. He pulled his bow from his back and dived over a log, then came up with his own arrow nocked and pointed in the same direction.

A shrieking beholder hovered seventy paces distant, its eyestalks spraying colored rays in every direction, the fletching of Takari's arrow protruding from its big central eye. Galaeron leveled his shaft at the same target-then, twenty paces ahead of the creature, glimpsed a plume of snow rising from the ground as some invisible foe raced for the Dire Wood. In a breath, Galaeron adjusted his aim and loosed the arrow.

The shaft flashed across the plume at about rib height, then drew a startled cry before it ricocheted away and sank into the snow. Galaeron uttered a curse on all phaerimm, then leaped up on the log behind which he was hiding and pointed in the direction he had fired.

"Watch over there!" he yelled. "The phaerimm's invisible, with an arrow shield!"

He was rewarded for his bravery by a black flash from one of the beholder's eyes, but he was already diving for cover behind a snowy boulder. The log he had been standing on shriveled into a mass of rotten pulp, then the eye tyrant screeched again as another of Takari's arrows sank into its body. Galaeron nocked another arrow and hurled himself from his hiding place, aiming as he rolled. A cone of golden light flashed from one of the beholder's eyestalks, and the boulder dissolved into dust. Galaeron loosed his arrow at the creature's big eye and saw it sink out of sight. This time, the beholder did not cry out. It simply dropped into the snow, its eyestalks drooping over its body like so many withered vines. Galaeron and Takari each planted a guarantee arrow into the lifeless orb and darted to new hiding places, and only then did they raise their heads to take stock-Malik and his horse were nowhere to be seen, of course. Aris was charging in the direction Galaeron had pointed, swinging a ten-foot deadfall log back and forth in a noble, if somewhat misguided, effort to smash their invisible foe through sheer chance. Vala and Melegaunt were running in the wrong direction, charging through the snow toward Galaeron and Takari.

He waved them back, only to have them stop and gesture him in their direction. He tried again, this time more urgently. Once Melegaunt reached the Dire Wood, he would be free to use his shadow magic-and if they stood any chance at all of escaping the phaerimm and its minions, it was the arch-wizard's magic.

Vala ignored him, instead pointing her darksword at the fallen beholder. "It was only the scout," she yelled. "Now, will you two stop clowning around and get your pointy ears over here?"

When no rays of any color leaped out to silence her, Galaeron dared to look behind him. Much to his relief, the rest of the beholders were a hundred paces distant, coming up fast, but still fist-sized spheres weaving through the trees. Behind them hovered the tornado-shaped figure of a phaerimm, no larger than Galaeron's thumb, yet terrifying enough even at that distance.

A dull thump echoed through the wood as Aris connected with their invisible foe. To Galaeron's amazement, the stone giant did not instantly erupt into a pillar of flame or drop dead with a gaping hole through his torso. Instead, he gave a deep groan of satisfaction and started forward again, shaking the snow from the trees around him as he beat the ground with his makeshift club. "Aris!" thundered Melegaunt. "Stop that at once!"

A series of colored flashes filled the air in front of Galaeron as the approaching beholders began to test the range of their eye rays. They were not close enough to strike yet, but it would not be long before the beams began to hit. Seeing that the foolish humans were determined to enter the Dire Wood together or not at all, he whistled to Takari and turned toward them. Even at their best pace, he doubted they would be fast enough to outrun the beholders' eye rays, but with a little dodging and weaving, they stood a reasonable-well, acceptable-chance of reaching the wood alive.

As Galaeron and Takari approached, Vala grabbed their hands and pulled them behind a tree. The beholder rays were starting to blast through the forest around them now, boring holes through massive shadowtop trunks and withering whole maples. Turlang would not be happy about the damage done to his forest, but as long as Melegaunt did not use his shadow magic within the wood, the treant would not hold them-or Lady Morgwais-responsible.

As Aris approached, a golden ray caught him square in the leg. The beam would have taken the torso off a normal man, but it merely drilled a melon-sized hole through the stone giant's thigh. He let out a great bellow and collapsed, shaking the ground beneath their feet as he crashed down behind Melegaunt. "That will do!" yelled Melegaunt, directing himself to Vala.

Vala grabbed Galaeron's hand and pressed it into Takari's, then looped her own arm through his and grabbed hold of Melegaunt's with the other. The archwizard locked her hand in the crook of his elbow, then pressed his other palm to the giant's biceps and began the incantation to a shadow spell.

Galaeron jerked free of Vala's grasp. "What are you doing? If he breaks his word to Turlang-"

"Look to the shadow, elf!" Vala grabbed hold of Galaeron again, then used her chin to gesture along the length of the trunk-shadow in which they all stood. "He's drawing his magic through the Dire Wood."

Galaeron looked in the direction she indicated and saw that the tree's shadow extended clear through the ring of white oaks. Though he wasn't sure Melegaunt was living up to the letter of his pledge to Turlang, there was no time to debate the matter. A half dozen beholders appeared to either side of them, lacing the air with gleaming beams of destruction.

The rays shot past without touching anyone in the party, and only then did Galaeron notice how dim and hazy the eye tyrants appeared. Several of the creatures passed by within an arm's reach of the party and did not seem to notice them.

"Don't lose touch with me," warned Melegaunt. "At the moment, we are only shadows to them… and that is all that protects us."

"Then let's get out of here," said Takari. "The Dire Wood is not a hundred paces away."

"And may as well be a hundred miles," said Aris. "Look ahead."

An ankle-high curtain of black fire had arisen at the edge of the white forest. Though Galaeron guessed the flames would be invisible to anyone outside the Fringe, he saw no reason it could not be dispersed by a wizard of Melegaunt's power.

"We cannot hide in the shadows forever," he said. "Dispel it and let us be on our way."

"Gladly-were that not what Elminster expects," said Melegaunt. "Elminster?" demanded Aris. "But he was sleeping-"

"Mystra's Chosen do not sleep," interrupted Melegaunt. He pointed in the general direction of the giant's feet and ran his fingers through the motions of a detection spell. "And they most certainly do not snore."

A ghostly figure in a floppy hat appeared twenty paces beyond Aris's feet. He was slowly creeping toward the Dire Wood, peering over his shoulder at the main body of beholders, then farther back at the hovering phaerimm, and finally at the eye tyrant scouts still passing back and forth through the shadow where Galaeron and his companions stood hiding in Melegaunt's spell.

A knowing twinkle came to Elminster's eye, and he started toward their hiding place. Melegaunt finished his spell, directing a finger in the archmage's direction. Almost at once, the beholders swung their eyestalks toward Elminster and began to assail him with rays both black and golden. Without exception, the attacks exploded into harmless starbursts against the archmage's spell shields, but the flurry was enough to stop the old man in his tracks. He lowered his bushy eyebrows, and Melegaunt uttered another spell. Instead of stopping a foot short, as had all the other attacks, the next beam-a golden one-struck the ancient wizard broadside and sent him cartwheeling across the snow.

"What are you doing?" Galaeron came near to releasing Takari to grab Melegaunt's arm. "You'll get him killed!" "Hardly."

Elminster tumbled to a stop and came up glaring in Melegaunt's direction. He raised a shaming finger-and the phaerimm came floating up, waving all four arms in his direction.

Elminster vanished in cloud of crimson flame, and Melegaunt immediately uttered the reverse of a teleport spell.

In the next instant, Elminster's ancient figure appeared fifty yards to the east, cloaked in fire and shaking a long finger of flame. Though the gesture was directed roughly in Melegaunt's direction, it was easily ten degrees to the left, leaving no doubt in Galaeron's mind, at least, that the greatest mage in all Faerun could not see through the simplest of the shadow wizard's spells.

The phaerimm streaked off toward the archmage, whistling something angry in its breezy language that drew the beholders after it. Elminster turned and fled, covering his retreat with a wall of scintillating colors. The phaerimm and beholders paused long enough to dispel the wall, then flew after the archwizard. Melegaunt smiled. "Now we are ready for the Dire Wood."