"Take that!" one of the armored knights shouted, swinging a strangely mottled warhammer at one of the bushes. Branches snapped and splinters flew as the bush toppled to the ground. At the same time, another bush snaked out a sinuous branch to wrap around the hammer-wielding stranger's ankles, intent on dragging him to the ground. But the moment the branch touched the knight, it was instantly transformed into sticky blue cobwebs. The magical bush shuddered and contracted.
The knight spun around to attack another thornbush. Only then did Daile catch a glimpse of his face. She gasped in astonishment.
"Kern!" she cried out.
The strangers halted momentarily in their fighting, looking up at Daile and Gamaliel in surprise.
Daile hadn't seen the young man in many years, not since he visited the Valley of the Falls with his parents one summer, but she could never have mistaken him. It was Kern Desanea, son of her father's close friends, Tarl and Shal of the city of Phlan.
"Gamaliel, can you call off Evaine's defenses?" she asked desperately.
The great cat shifted back into his barbarian form and regarded her for a scant second before nodding. "Surrahk!" he cried. Immediately, the thornbushes shuffled obediently back to the hedge, sinking their roots into the soil once more. They quivered briefly, then were still.
The four wanderers lowered their weapons gratefully.
Kern's eyebrows knit themselves in concentration. "Daile?" he asked tentatively.
She laughed in answer, throwing her arms around him in a joyous embrace. He returned the gesture warmly.
"Daile, what are you doing here?" he asked, taking a step back to look at Daile.
"Saving you, it would seem," she laughed. "It's a good thing we came along when we did. I'd hate to be the one to have to tell Tarl and Shal that their son was beaten in battle by a rosebush."
"At least they wouldn't have to send flowers to the funeral," Listle added with a snort. The young paladin-aspirant shot the elven mage an annoyed glance.
Kern's armored companion stepped forward then, raising a gauntleted hand.
"It has been some time, Gamaliel."
The knight's voice carried a tinny echo that made Daile's heart skip a beat in her chest.
"It has indeed, Miltiades," Gamaliel answered, a rare look of wonderment crossing the usually stoic face of the barbarian. "Evaine will be pleased to see you again, as am I."
Slowly the knight raised the visor of his ornate helm.
Daile clamped a hand over her mouth in horror. It wasn't the face of a man she found herself staring at, but instead a hollow-eyed skull wearing a perpetual, lipless grin.
"Don't worry," the silver-eyed elf whispered to Daile with a conspiratorial wink. "He's much friendlier than he looks."
Daile could only nod, hoping the elf was right.
Evaine had forgotten just how much she liked Miltiades. The travelers found her sitting by the hearth, wrapped in a soft patchwork quilt. To her delight, Miltiades knelt before her and bowed his head.
"It is good to lay sight on you once again, fair sorceress," he intoned.
She clapped her hands together, laughing aloud for the first time since her fateful spirit journey with Shal. Momentarily, color stole back into her pale cheeks. "Nobody calls me 'fair sorceress,' Miltiades," she gently chastised the paladin.
"Then they do you a disservice, my lady," he said quite seriously.
Listle leaned close to Kern. "You know, you could probably take a few lessons in gallantry from Miltiades," she whispered.
"I'm gallant!" he whispered back defensively.
"If you say so."
There followed a great deal of catching up between old friends, as well as a fair number of introductions among new. Much to Kern's chagrin, Listle and Daile took an instant liking to each other. In moments, they were whispering and giggling, casting glances in his direction. The gods only knew what they were talking about, Kern grumped to himself. Two against one was entirely unfair.
Ren's booming laughter soon filled the sorceress's house. Like Daile, Evaine had noticed that the two years since Ciela's death had not been kind to the ranger. But the arrival of their old friend Miltiades brought some youthful animation to Ren's bearded face. For that, Evaine was grateful.
While the others talked, Sirana wandered about the wood-paneled main room, idly examining curious sculptures and old, gilt-edged books, just as any guest might. But Evaine had the peculiar feeling that Sirana's actions were not quite as offhand as they seemed. It was as if she was surveying the room, trying to calculate Evaine's power as a sorceress from the objects she possessed. Evaine decided to keep an eye on the beautiful wild mage.
However, Evaine had something more important to be concerned with for the present.
She found Kern in a small, sunlit side room.
"I figured that if I wasn't in plain view, Listle and Daile might not have such a good time talking about me," he explained a bit sheepishly.
Evaine, sitting in a chair opposite Kern, smiled. There was something unassuming yet compelling about the handsome young man. Evaine was quiet for a moment, gathering her strength for the question she knew she had to ask.
"Tell me, Kern, how is Shal?" she said finally.
Kern swallowed hard. "Well, she's alive."
Evaine let out a deep breath of relief, closing her eyes for a moment.
"But just barely," Kern went on. "She hasn't woken, Evaine, not since that… journey you two undertook. I don't know what happened during the spell-I don't really even understand what it was you two were trying to do-but ever since that day, Mother just lies there, growing paler and thinner."
Evaine shook her head. That the wizard of Denlor's Tower lived still was no minor miracle and was in itself a great testament to a strong spirit. The attack of the pool's guardian had left Evaine feeling sapped of all strength. Even now, nearly a tenday later, her joints still throbbed, and dark circles lingered under her eyes. Yesterday, she had attempted to light a candle with a routine incantation and had fainted from the excruciating pain that had surged through her body.
"We are lucky Shal is still with us," Evaine said, glad for the warm winter sunlight streaming through the window-panes. "You have a very dangerous enemy, Kern Desanea."
"I know." His shoulders slumped slightly, a troubled look crossing his broad face. "I… I hope the journey the two of you took wasn't for nothing."
"It wasn't," Evaine said firmly. "Don't think that Shal would do anything differently if she was given a second chance, Kern. She knew the risks involved when she agreed to the spirit journey, and she accepted them. Shal was prepared to live or die with the consequences of her actions." She gazed at Kern intently. "You must accept risks that are no less dangerous."
The young paladin stared at her. "I will do my best," he managed to say.
"Good," was Evaine's only reply.
Night descended swiftly this time of year, and it was already dark outside when everybody gathered around the oaken table in the comfortably cluttered main room.
"Shal and I made some important discoveries on our spirit journey," Evaine began. She clasped a mug of fragrant rose-hip tea in her hands. "First of all, whoever he may be, Kern's antagonist is not allied with the evil force that is warding Tyr's hammer in the ruins of the red tower. Instead, I think it's quite likely your enemy hopes to use you to obtain the hammer, Kern."