"Glad homeagain, Nihmedu." Though the kanqat stood on the other side of the mica, his voice was as clear as his image. He was Orem Arvaeyn, a classmate from the Academy of Arms who-like nearly everyone else-was rising much faster than Galaeron. Orem looked past Galaeron to sneer at the humans. "I see you have crypt breakers. Shall we expect the rest of your patrol soon?"
"No, Kanqat They won't…" The words caught in Galaeron's throat, but he forced himself to meet Orem's gaze. "I couldn't recover their bodies."
The kanqat's face grew even paler. "I see." He studied the prisoners, clearly trying to reconcile the fact that they were mere humans with Galaeron's loss, then asked, "This happened in the Desert Border South?"
Galaeron nodded, confident any account he gave would only make him look worse. "If you please, my scout needs care."
"Of course." The kanqat looked away and nodded, then he stepped aside as the mica barrier rose out of sight. As Galaeron's pony passed by, Orem said quietly, "No need to be short, Galaeron. Not that you'll get one now, but I always thought you merited a better assignment."
Surprised by the kanqat's unexpected kindness, Galaeron pulled aside and let Ehamond lead the others ahead. "My thanks, Orem. Your words may be the only kind ones I hear tonight."
"You were the best of our regiform, Galaeron." Orem shook his head. "You just shouldn't have been so arrogant. There's more to this business than spell and steel."
"Arrogant? What is true is not…" Galaeron caught himself then nodded his agreement. "Good advice given too late, I'm afraid."
"It may serve you tonight, if you keep it in mind," said Orem. "Nothing would take the tomb master more by surprise."
"This is a matter for more than the tomb master." Galaeron glanced at Vala and Melegaunt, who were sitting on their horses bound, blindfolded, but far from frightened. The humans play only a small part in this, and none at all in the deaths of my guards. IT! need to speak with the Hill Elders at once." "At once? This morning?" Galaeron nodded.
Orem studied the empty saddles behind Dynod and Nimieye then said, I'll arrange it"
Galaeron offered his thanks and resumed his place then led the column down a hanging gorge into the forests of the Upper Vale. The trees were ancient and enormous, mostly spear spruce tall enough to scratch the sky. The trail descended sharply, winding through ravines and around craggy outcroppings where the treetops grew thin enough to show streaks of distant cliff.
Though Galaeron was free to remove the humans' blindfolds at any time, he did not He was convinced that Melegaunt had some way of seeing other than eyes. The wizard sat in his saddle easily, holding his body upright and still even when his black mount slipped or stumbled. In contrast, the other humans rode comfortably but loosely, swaying to every twist in the trail. Vala's jaw remained clenched and tense, her red lip raised in an indignant sneer.
Her patience lasted only a quarter hour, until the trail left the steep slopes of the Upper Vale and descended into the terraces of the Vine Vale.
"How about these blinders and bindings, elf?" she demanded. "I can tell by the wind we're out of the Passing."
"The blinders, yes." Galaeron stopped and motioned Nimieye forward to remove the blindfolds-actually leather half-hoods enchanted to confuse the wearer's sense of direction. "The bindings remain."
"What?" Despite the question, Vala did not seem overly surprised. "I should have known not to trust an elf." "I promised nothing." "It was implied," Vala snarled.
"Careful, child. We are in no position to lecture Galaeron about his ethics," said Melegaunt. He let Nimieye remove his hood then locked gazes with Galaeron. "Much will depend on whether he blames us or simple accident for the loss of his patrol."
"Then we are lost," said Vala. "Men make better scapegoats than misfortune."
" Tis so, but I think our friend smarter than that." Melegaunt continued to watch Galaeron. "What say you, elf? Will you call us crypt breakers and thieves, or victims like yourself?"
"That's for the Hill Elders to decide," said Galaeron. "My duty is only to tell what happened."
The answer was a dodge, for the truth lay somewhere between the extremes laid out by the wizard. The humans had broken an elven crypt, but the ones inside had been nobles of the much despised Vyshaan clan, and even then nothing had been stolen. And while the humans had resisted the patrol's attempt to capture them, they had risked their own lives to avoid injuring elves. Given these facts, Galaeron's attitude would carry more than a little weight with the Elders.
What Galaeron did not know was how much to trust the humans. There was an undeniable aura of darkness about Melegaunt, and it had crossed Galaeron's mind that the battle in the Vyshaan crypt might be no more than an elaborate ruse to sneak a powerful and evil wizard into Evereska.
Melegaunt smiled crookedly at Galaeron's response then watched as Nimieye removed the hoods from Vala's followers. The three men-Vala had introduced them as Burlen, Kuhl, and Dexon-blinked and glowered at Galaeron, portending the black look Vala shot him when her own hood came off.
"Mind how you tell your tale, elf," she said. "Helm has a memory for word breakers."
"That might concern me, were I a word breaker or a human." Galaeron was beginning to feel a very humanlike anger at the woman. "As it is, I'm a tomb guard holding a band of crypt breakers in custody, with no reason to trust them."
The woman opened her mouth to retort, but Galaeron cut her off by glancing over to check on Takari. The scout was still slouched in front of Ehamond, not quite slumbering, but in some state far deeper than Reverie. It was a bad sign, for elves did not sleep unless they were ill or badly wounded. Galaeron started down the trail at a trot, determined to have Takari in a healer's hands before Eastpeak's shadow left Moondark Hill.
Despite the many concerns facing him-or perhaps because of them-Galaeron found himself bitterly disappointed by the humans' indifference when Nimieye removed their blindfolds. This section of the trail was the most striking part of the return to Evereska, with a vast staircase of vineyards descending toward the city in a series of mist-shrouded terraces, and not one human had stopped glowering at him long enough to notice the view
In the bottom of the valley lay a rolling patchwork of fields both gold and black. From Galaeron's perspective high in the Vine Vale, these farmlands formed a deep crescent in the bottom of the valley, with the thousand foot cliffs of the High Sharaedim ringing it on the exterior and Evereska looming up in the center. Though the city was often described as walled-usually by bombastic humans who based their "eyewitness" accounts on tales bribed from elves half-drunk on the Halfway Inn's potent elquesstria-the walls were in fact the smooth-polished cliffs of the Three Sisters, the largest of the dozen hills upon which Evereska rested.
Behind the cliff tops rose hundreds of towers, soaring up out of a thick bluetop forest to make the city look like a many-spired crown. Most spires rose to twice the height of the surrounding trees, some even higher than the peaks of the High Sharaedim. Their exteriors swarmed with lines of antlike figures, residents of the city going about their daily business with no thought as to how strange it looked from below.
Such was the magic of Evereska, jewel of the mountains, and Galaeron considered anyone who failed to gasp at its wonders worthy of doubt. He led his prisoners down the Vine Vale terraces via a series of gentle switchbacks, then traveled down a narrow lane to the walled pasturelands that surrounded Evereska. As they approached the boundary, Galaeron spoke a word of passing. The gilded gate swung open, admitting the column into a rolling meadow dotted with boulders and bigcone firs. Like many of Evereska's defenses, the gate's purpose was not obvious. While it was not magical, it marked the perimeter of the city's most priceless treasure and best-kept secret, the mythal.