Ah, Silver Lady-Tam’s hands itched to take up the chain, to show that brooding bastard what his veiled threats were worth, whoever he was. Not here, he thought. Not now. Not with so many bystanders. Maspero gave him a smile full of violence.
Priorities, he reminded himself-Netheril came first.
“Are you planning on dragging us out of here?” Pernika folded her arms and regarded him lazily. “Maybe not all of us are afraid of shadows.”
“Oh, ye gods!” Brin cried. “Just leave them here then, and let the ghosts turn them in circles until Shade can sort them out. It’s stupid to stand here arguing.”
We haven’t got as many allies as we thought, Brin had said, and now Tam was cursing himself for not hearing the boy out then and there.
“What ghosts?” Dahl demanded.
“Two of them,” Brin said. “At least. They look exactly like Tam and Havilar. You think you’re having a conversation all normal and … mostly normal, anyway. And then they’re suddenly trying to coerce you into going and using Tarchamus’s Book.”
“Oh,” Farideh said. She blushed when all eyes turned to her. “I didn’t know there was one that looked like Havi. I’ve seen her too.” Her eyes slid to Havilar. “Unless you were adamant I read the Book?”
“Are you serious?” Havilar cried. “It’s bad enough Brin couldn’t tell, but you’re my karshoji sister.”
“Perhaps they’re very convincing,” Mira said quietly. She chewed her lip.
“You’ve seen one too,” Tam surmised.
She hesitated. “Do you remember chasing Maspero and me from the door? Chiding me about my scholarly pursuits?”
Tam’s eyes narrowed. “What door?”
“The door we discovered shortly before you hauled us back here,” Mira said. “The door, which I intend to open before I leave here. It may lead to the location of Tarchamus’s spellbooks.”
There was so much of her mother in that face-the set of her jaw, the purse of her mouth. It was a stark reminder that she wasn’t a child anymore. There was a balance to be struck if he wanted her to follow him out of this place, he knew.
He also knew there was no time left for cajolery.
“What do I have to say to make it clear to you that you are in danger like you’ve never been before?” he demanded, low and quick. “Do you want to hear what they will do when they find you in their way? Do you want to hear how they will hunt you down? Do you want to hear how the shadar-kai amuse themselves with captives? Because, Mira, I wish I didn’t know. Don’t make me tell your mother I left you to die at the Shadovar’s hands.”
Mira’s expression betrayed no fear. “So you’d rather I left the spellbooks to them.”
“Pack everything up,” Tam said. “This isn’t a discussion.”
“I think you’ve made your point, Harper,” Maspero said. “And you’re free to go. We’re not leaving until we have those spellbooks.” He looked over at the twins, Brin, and Dahl. “And if any of your charges would rather stay and assist us, they’re welcome to.”
“Could we not just send word to Everlund?” Dahl asked.
“Do you think I haven’t tried?” Tam asked. “The wards on this place block any such magic. If the sending’s going through, the replies aren’t.”
Dahl folded his arms. “Well if there’s a ward that can block sendings, I assume that held true for the Netherese who came before us too. Which means Netheril doesn’t know-”
“We can’t be certain of that. They might have found a way around them. They might have had compatriots in the woods. They might have agreed to report back at proper intervals and now that they aren’t, Netheril will come looking.”
“Shouldn’t we at least see if we can find the spellbooks?” Farideh asked. “Isn’t that why we stayed in the first place, to keep those things from Shade?”
Tam regarded her levelly. “Do you want to protect the spellbooks, or are you looking for something else in the arcanist’s hoard?”
She flushed angrily, and folded her arms as well.
Havilar sighed. “If Farideh’s going to stay, I have to too.”
“What is wrong with all of you?” Brin demanded. “Have you not been listening?”
Havilar shrugged. “Fari’s staying.”
“Well, I’m not,” he said. “There are dead shades in the stacks, imposter ghosts on the prowl, illusions sucking people in-”
“We’re worrying about illusions now?” Dahl said.
Brin scowled at him. “They’re powerful. They pull out old, dreadful memories and twist them around. Make you think you’re in another time and place.”
“Very frightening,” Dahl said dryly.
“Watch your mouth,” Maspero said.
“You too?” Tam asked.
Maspero eyed him a moment. “Thought it was just the spirit of the place or something, rattling my thoughts. Had me thinking of a girl I knew as a lad, Blind Jhaeri. Pretty thing, quick with a lock.” He looked away and nodded to himself. “She died of some sickness that swept the docks one summer. Haven’t thought of her in ages, and all of the sudden, I’m caught up in an old argument.” He met Tam’s eyes. “Glad to hear I’m not the only one.”
“The Book mentioned traps,” Mira said. “Illusions to drive off people who weren’t worthy. Could it be that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tam insisted once more. “The ghosts are a danger, the illusions are a danger, the traps are a danger, and it may well be that whatever killed our shade and his comrades is some other horror we haven’t discovered. And none of that matters if Netheril is looking for their lost agents.”
“And if they aren’t?” Mira asked.
Tam bit back a curse. “Humor me. Please. Come back out onto the surface and we’ll contact Everlund and Waterdeep. We’ll see what they say.”
“And then?”
And then, he thought, I do not care how old you are, I will drag you out of this place myself if you won’t come. What deal had she gotten tangled in to be under the thumb of someone like Maspero?
“And then,” he said out loud, “you’ll have better information.”
She bit her lip again, staring down at the mess of their camp. “Leave the heavy supplies,” she said finally. She looked up at him with those clear, dark eyes. “We’ll be back soon enough.”
It wasn’t what Tam had hoped for, but at least she gathered up her personal items, and the rest of them did the same. They put out the coals of the cookfire, bound up their bedrolls, and gathered their haversacks.
Silver Lady, he prayed. Don’t let us be too late.
Farideh came to stand beside him. “Do you think,” she asked, “we ought to take the Book? It seems like the worst thing to leave in a wicked person’s hands, after all.”
Tam hesitated. If the ghosts were pushing them toward the Book, would they know once someone removed it? Would they try and stop them? Or would the Book?
It had insisted it didn’t know the location of the spellbooks. Would it say the same to Shade?
“Come with me,” he said. She followed him through the winding aisles, back toward the Book’s alcove. “Shall I pretend your interest in staying is all altruistic?” he asked. “Or are you going to tell me what you’ve been up to?”
Silence. “Is there something wrong with being interested in rituals?”
“You had a map of the Hells,” he noted. “There is something wrong with tampering with that sort of ritual.” Silence again. “Did you never think,” Tam said, “that you might be better off without that devil? That his death might be a blessing?”
“If he dies,” Farideh said tightly, “then I lose everything.”
“It might feel that way now-”
“No,” she said, stopping as they reached the Book’s resting place and facing him. “If he dies, I lose everything. I lose my pact. I lose my powers. I lose the protection I have against other devils. They’ll seek me out. They’ll seek out Havilar. I’ll lose her too. Lorcan isn’t perfect, I know that. But he’s worlds better than being helpless and at the mercy of uncountable devils.”