"It's…" Lewan struggled to find the right word, then decided simple was best. "Evil."
Talieth threw back her head and laughed. "Evil? Your dear master never killed?"
"Never for coins!"
"Never?" She gave him a hard look, the demeanor of a queen displeased at an errant servant.
"You mean Kheil," said Lewan. He chose his words carefully so his voice would not tremble under Talieth's gaze. "You-"
"I know Kheil killed for coins," said Talieth, her voice rising to cut him off. "And many times for far less than that. That man loved blood like some men love wine. No, I am speaking of your Master Berun. He never killed? Nor once?"
Lewan scowled. "Nor for coins."
"Then for what?"
"To protect himself," said Lewan. "To protect others. He-"
"Others? What others?"
"Villagers sometimes hired him to track bandits," said Lewan. "He guarded caravans on the Golden Way a few times."
"And he did this for free?" said Talieth. "Out of the kindness of his heart? Or did he do it for coins?"
Lewan turned his gaze away, unable to stomach her smug expression.
Talieth's voice softened. Not all the way to kindness, certainly, but she no longer seemed on the edge of anger. "Don't misunderstand me, Lewan. You have a code by which you live. Which you honor. I respect that. But we, too, have our code. Do not despise us. Do not judge what you do not know. Would not even your master say such behavior is foolish?"
Lewan could sense the wrongness of her words, but he couldn't reason his way around them. The seed of doubt was not yet sprouted, but it had been planted in fertile soil.
"Chereth," Talieth continued, "what interest he and my father shared… I have no idea. But I do know that something happened between them. Again, here my knowledge is incomplete. All I know is that whatever happened was bad enough that my father sent men to kill the druid. Sent"-Lewan caught the faintest hint of a break in her voice — "Kheil. And you didn't send Kheil for a quiet kill. No. You sent Kheil when you wanted a message sent. When you wanted bloody murder and everyone to know about it. My father sent Kheil and a band to the Yuirwood. They… did not succeed."
"Kheil was killed."
"Yes," said Talieth, her voice carefully controlled. "And I thought him truly dead. I went nearly mad with grief myself. Had I known…" She stopped long enough to compose herself, then continued. "But several years ago, Chereth came here. To the Fortress. He came to kill my father, and it says something about the old druid's power-and perhaps my father's early madness-that he came so close to succeeding. Many of our people died. More than a few of Sauk's scars were earned that night. But my father finally managed to subdue the old druid, and he has held him captive all these years. I only knew that Chereth was the man responsible for the death of the only man I ever loved."
Despite his anger and confusion, Lewan kept his face carefully neutral. It seemed obvious to him that her father was mostly to blame for Kheil's death, but she was well into her tale-telling Lewan things he'd never heard-so he did nothing to contradict her prejudiced view.
"Having the druid here in the fortress only reawakened my grief. I might have killed Chereth myself had my father not protected him. Make no mistake. The old druid was a prisoner. Never unguarded. But as long as he behaved himself, my father would allow no one to harm him. No one except my father. I told you that my father's hunger for power often knew no caution. Though he was once a devoted priest of Bhaal, after the death of his god, he… broadened his interests, studying the arcane, searching lore wherever he could find it. Even this fortress, the place you now sit, is ancient. Built by the Imaskari thousands of years ago, and it holds many of their secrets still."
"And your father," said Lewan, "he used these powers on Chereth?"
"Used them on him, with him-perhaps even for him," said Talieth. "As I said, my father's hunger for power knew no bounds. He coerced knowledge from the old druid, by kindness or by torture. My father is an expert at both. But he also found ways to use the druid to leech the powers of the earth itself to serve him. This, I believe, is when his madness fully bloomed."
"I still don't understand," said Lewan. And he wasn't sure he wanted to. None of this had anything to do with him. His master was dead. If Chereth truly were alive, the best Lewan could do for him was to escape himself, perhaps seek a circle of druids somewhere, and tell them of the old half-elf's plight. One half-trained novice could do nothing against such powers.
"Tell me," said Talieth. "Did you feel the earth tremble not long ago?"
"Yes," said Lewan. "It's why I went out on the balcony. I thought it might have been a landslide."
"No, Lewan. You've lived in the Endless Wastes most of your life. You do know that Sentinelspire is a volcano?"
"Yes. But she hasn't erupted for thousands of years. The Firepeaks-"
"Are nothing compared to Sentinelspire," said Talieth. "Yes, the mountain has slept for untold thousands of years. My father believed that the Imaskari found a way to put her to sleep, to channel her energies elsewhere."
"Elsewhere? I… I don't understand."
"The Imaskari were masters of magic. But they were particularly knowledgeable about the other worlds beyond our own, and their wizards found ways to open doors to those worlds."
"You mean portals."
"You know of them?" said Talieth, sounding both surprised and pleased.
"My master told me of them. Sauk said that we were to take one here, before…" Lewan's voice caught in his throat.
"Yes, let's not get off on that path again," said Talieth. "The portals. Some can take a traveler hundreds or thousands of miles as if walking from one room to another. But others… others can lead to other worlds altogether, some so deadly that the very air is poison, the seas fire."
Lewan could not imagine why anyone, even a wizard, would wish to go to such places.
"The Imaskari," Talieth continued, "found ways to use this art for their benefit. This fortress is perhaps one of their greatest achievements. You've seen the greenery throughout our home? The fountains? The great fall over the western wall?"
"Yes."
Talieth gave him a self-satisfied smile. "We're in the Endless Wastes, Lewan. Where does all this water come from? Snowmelt off one mountain? You say you've lived in the wild for years. Surely you can see that no amount of snowmelt could account for such abundance of water in the Wastes."
"I hadn't really thought about it," said Lewan.
"No? Well, I can tell you that no amount of melting snow could provide enough water for that fall year round. The water all around you, feeding the vines and flowers and greenery, growing our food, filling that pitcher before you… very little of it came from rain or snowmelt. No. Deep beneath the fortress, and in hidden caves farther up the mountain, are the Wells."
"Wells? Like water?"
"Some, yes. The Wells are simply what my father named them, but in truth, they are portals to other worlds. Some are portals to realms of purest water, and the Imaskari found ways to channel that for their benefit. But not just water, Lewan. Have you noticed these slots throughout your room?"
She walked to the nearest wall and pointed where the wall met the ceiling and the floor. Horizontal slots were cut in the stone. Very narrow-even a mouse would have trouble squeezing through. Lewan could not guess their purpose.
"I hadn't noticed them," said Lewan. "I woke only moments before Ulaan came with my clothes."
"Ah," said Talieth, and her smile turned mischievous. "And she does command one's attention, does she not?"
Lewan blushed. "I dressed myself after she left the room. She returned long enough to offer food. When she left, I dozed some before the earthquake woke me. I went out to the balcony. I… I never spent time examining the room."