Curse of the Shadowmage Read Online Free PDF

wall. Now their shadows were mundane silhouettes, nothing more. Gradually, she let herself relax into his strong embrace. “I’m all right,” she gasped. “It’s a scratch, that’s all.”
    “But how did … ?”
    Mari thought of the way his shadow had moved … or had it? She had been angry and distracted. Caledan could make the shadows dance on the wall—that was the nature of his shadow magic—but the shadows he controlled did not have physical substance or the ability to harm. Maybe in her rage she had imagined it. She could have scratched her cheek when she fell in her attempt to back away from him. She realized that her anger had receded, whatever the explanation for her injury. All she felt now was a great weariness.
    “Forget it, Caledan.” She took a deep breath. “It’s nothing. Really.”
    Mari pulled herself to her feet. She drew a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her cheek; already the flow of blood had stopped. There were more pressing matters to concern her now. She took her wine-colored cloak from its hook and opened the door.
    Quickly, Caledan stood. “Where are you going?” he asked in confusion.
    “The Barbed Hook. It might have slipped your mind, but we still have a mission to complete.” She gave him a wan smile. “So are you coming or not, Harper?”
    His wolfish visage was unreadable. At last he nodded. “Lead the way.”
    The narrow crag upon which Iriaebor’s Old City was built soared a full three hundred feet above the surrounding plains. Leaving the precarious towers and mazelike streets of the Old City behind, Mari and Caledan made their way down a serpentine road to the sprawling New City below. It was nearing midmorning, and the New City’s broad avenues were crowded with throngs of cityfolk. Iriaebor was prosperous these days.
    And that was precisely why the Zhentarim would love to dig their claws into the city once again. With Iriaebor’s gold draining into their own coffers, the Black Network could fuel their evil designs of domination in a dozen other lands. Mari still wasn’t certain how the strange murders might benefit a Zhent plot to overthrow the city, but she didn’t doubt that they could. The Zhentarim were as insidiously ingenious as they were wicked.
    A thought struck her. Kellen had told them about the apparition he witnessed yesterday, and she wondered if this strange occurrence had something to do with the Zhentarim. Mari had no doubt that Kellen had in truth
    seen the ghost of Talek Talembar. She had witnessed Talembar’s shade once herself, far away in the Fields of the Dead, and Kellen’s description of the ghost coincided with her memories. Yet what did the appearance of the ghost portend? And what of his peculiar message? The old king hath fallen … and a new king doth rise to take his place. Perhaps it was a warning that the Zhentarim plotted against City Lord Bron. The appearance of the ghost had left them all shaken, except for Caledan. He had merely brushed the strange occurrence aside, as he did everything these days.
    As they walked, Mari glanced sidelong at Caledan. For a time, after the Fellowship defeated Ravendas in the crypt of the Shadowking, life with Caledan had been joyous. Then, gradually—so gradually she didn’t even notice it at first—they had slipped back into their old habits, quarreling bitterly as often as they embraced. She sighed deeply.
    Consciously, Mari forced her thoughts to the mission at hand. Morhion had come to the inn yesterday bearing news from their old friend, the monk Tyveris. Tyveris had once been a member of the Fellowship. Now he served as an advisor to City Lord Bron in the High Tower. According to Tyveris, the perpetrator of the unexplained murders had finally been apprehended. Two nights ago, city guards had caught a thief beside the mangled corpse of a petty nobleman. The mystery, Tyveris reported, had been solved. Yet for some reason, Mari did not feel as certain as the monk. It was difficult to