his own wine. “I can’t overthrow her by myself, and I can’t wait for the help of the high mages.”
“And so one old loremaster will have to serve in place of a circle of Evermeet’s most powerful mages.” Quastarte set down his cup. “All right, then As I see it, Araevin, you need the Gatekeeper’s Crystal.”
“The same device Sarya used to open Nar Kerymhoarth, and free her fey’ri legion? It’s powerful enough to destroy the Waymeet?”
“I suppose it might be, but that’s not what it’s for. The Gatekeeper’s Crystal is the key to the Waymeet.”
Araevin looked at him with a blank expression.
The loremaster shook his head. “See, that’s what you get for drinking your knowledge from ancient loregems. If you had studied honestly, you would know this. The Gatekeeper’s Crystal is not just a weapon, Araevin. It is intimately connected to the Waymeet. Now, we never had the whole crystal at Tower Reilloch, only one of the three shards, so I never had the opportunity to experiment with it. But we learned long ago that the crystal we guarded drew its power from the Waymeet.”
“I never knew,” Araevin said.
Quastarte sighed. “Trust me, I understand. I did not know that the Waymeet itself was a mythal of old Aryvandaar until you told me just now, and I have had centuries to figure it out.”
“Sarya Dlardrageth holds the Gatekeeper’s Crystal. I doubt she would let me borrow it to deal with the Waymeet.”
“She had the crystal when she rent the wards of the Nameless Dungeon, yes. But she has it no more.”
“How do you know?” Araevin demanded.
“It’s the limitation of the crystal. When its full power is employedas Sarya did when she opened Nar Kerymhoarthits component shards fly apart and scatter themselves across the face of the world. She has not had the crystal since the day she freed her fey’ri.”
Araevin leaped to his feet, and gathered up his rucksack. “Thank you, old friend. I think you’ve given me more hope than I’ve had in a long time.”
Quastarte rose more slowly. “If you intend to assemble the Gatekeeper’s Crystal again, start at the Nameless Dungeon. When the weapon shatters, it often leaves one of its component shards near the place where it was last employed.”
Araevin clasped Quastarte’s arm. “If you could neglect to mention to the high mages that I was here, I would appreciate it.”
The old loremaster gestured at the forested hillside. “I went for a long walk in the woods on a fine summer day, and that is all. No one needs to know any more than that.”
CHAPTER TWO
21 Flamerule, the Year of Lightning Storms
At sunset of the day following his illicit visit to Evermeet, Araevin rode into Highmoon, the chief settlement of Deepingdale. It was a handsome town that climbed a small hill alongside the East Way, the road that skirted the southern flanks of the great forest. Stands of trees hundreds of years old shaded much of the town, and lanterns suspended from the branches gave the place the look of an elven townwhich was not far from the truth. Those few elves of Cormanthyr who hadn’t Retreated had lingered in the forests near Deepingdale, befriending and mixing with the humans of the Dale. Only in Aglarond had Araevin encountered a land where elf and human ways were so intertwined.
He stopped by an inn advertising itself as the Oak and Spear, and swung himself down from his saddle with a pat for his horse’s neck. The Oak and Spear at least seemed to be doing a fair business; music drifted from the taproom’s open door into the warm night. Araevin led his horse into the stable, took his saddlebags, and headed into the common room. A single lutist strummed her instrument softly by the cold fireplace. Few Deepingdalesfolk were drinking that night; most of the able-bodied men were standing guard at the Dale’s borders or serving with Theremen Ulath up in the forests around Lake Sember.
“About time you got here!”
Araevin
“And so one old loremaster will have to serve in place of a circle of Evermeet’s most powerful mages.” Quastarte set down his cup. “All right, then As I see it, Araevin, you need the Gatekeeper’s Crystal.”
“The same device Sarya used to open Nar Kerymhoarth, and free her fey’ri legion? It’s powerful enough to destroy the Waymeet?”
“I suppose it might be, but that’s not what it’s for. The Gatekeeper’s Crystal is the key to the Waymeet.”
Araevin looked at him with a blank expression.
The loremaster shook his head. “See, that’s what you get for drinking your knowledge from ancient loregems. If you had studied honestly, you would know this. The Gatekeeper’s Crystal is not just a weapon, Araevin. It is intimately connected to the Waymeet. Now, we never had the whole crystal at Tower Reilloch, only one of the three shards, so I never had the opportunity to experiment with it. But we learned long ago that the crystal we guarded drew its power from the Waymeet.”
“I never knew,” Araevin said.
Quastarte sighed. “Trust me, I understand. I did not know that the Waymeet itself was a mythal of old Aryvandaar until you told me just now, and I have had centuries to figure it out.”
“Sarya Dlardrageth holds the Gatekeeper’s Crystal. I doubt she would let me borrow it to deal with the Waymeet.”
“She had the crystal when she rent the wards of the Nameless Dungeon, yes. But she has it no more.”
“How do you know?” Araevin demanded.
“It’s the limitation of the crystal. When its full power is employedas Sarya did when she opened Nar Kerymhoarthits component shards fly apart and scatter themselves across the face of the world. She has not had the crystal since the day she freed her fey’ri.”
Araevin leaped to his feet, and gathered up his rucksack. “Thank you, old friend. I think you’ve given me more hope than I’ve had in a long time.”
Quastarte rose more slowly. “If you intend to assemble the Gatekeeper’s Crystal again, start at the Nameless Dungeon. When the weapon shatters, it often leaves one of its component shards near the place where it was last employed.”
Araevin clasped Quastarte’s arm. “If you could neglect to mention to the high mages that I was here, I would appreciate it.”
The old loremaster gestured at the forested hillside. “I went for a long walk in the woods on a fine summer day, and that is all. No one needs to know any more than that.”
CHAPTER TWO
21 Flamerule, the Year of Lightning Storms
At sunset of the day following his illicit visit to Evermeet, Araevin rode into Highmoon, the chief settlement of Deepingdale. It was a handsome town that climbed a small hill alongside the East Way, the road that skirted the southern flanks of the great forest. Stands of trees hundreds of years old shaded much of the town, and lanterns suspended from the branches gave the place the look of an elven townwhich was not far from the truth. Those few elves of Cormanthyr who hadn’t Retreated had lingered in the forests near Deepingdale, befriending and mixing with the humans of the Dale. Only in Aglarond had Araevin encountered a land where elf and human ways were so intertwined.
He stopped by an inn advertising itself as the Oak and Spear, and swung himself down from his saddle with a pat for his horse’s neck. The Oak and Spear at least seemed to be doing a fair business; music drifted from the taproom’s open door into the warm night. Araevin led his horse into the stable, took his saddlebags, and headed into the common room. A single lutist strummed her instrument softly by the cold fireplace. Few Deepingdalesfolk were drinking that night; most of the able-bodied men were standing guard at the Dale’s borders or serving with Theremen Ulath up in the forests around Lake Sember.
“About time you got here!”
Araevin
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