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Authors: Bruce R. Cordell

BOOK: Stardeep
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“Poisoning?” asked the monk.

“They kill our children and steal away tracts of land that are never seen again.”

Concern clutched Raidon’s stomach. He had discovered his mother’s home realm only to find it under attack by vicious invaders. Was she safe?

Adrik looked up from his ravaged, darkening arm. He asked, his teeth gritted against pain, “Where do they come from?”

Kiril gazed at the burning citadel. She said, “No one ever knew. Our sages said they hailed from a spectral reality that underpins our own. But Sildeyuir was disjoined from cosmology when it first took shape. It has always puzzled my folk why the nilshai exert so much effort to enter here, when Faerun is far easier to reach.”

Kiril paused, then continued. “But I know the truth, now. If any of my people were around to hear it, I would explain

that the blood-flecking nilshai are agents of the Traitor, adherents who worship, as he does, the gods-damned aberrations of the primeval world. They are servants of the cursed Lords of Madness who seek to regain the realm denied them by the first gods.”

Adrik grunted and said no more. Raidon took it as a warning, considering that the voluble sorcerer typically would have launched into a dozen questions. The monk tapped Kiril on the shoulder and said in a quiet voice, “This man requires a healer’s craft.”

Kiril frowned and hesitated, but she said, “Aid can be petitioned from a place near here.” Adrik smiled despite his pain.

They crested another ridge. Raidon supported the ailing sorcerer. Before them stood an elegant tower of pale white stone and glass. A sturdy granite wall ringed the structure. Blue lamps gleamed from the windows and the treetops surrounding the tower.

“Healing can be had in Tower AerilpeV’ murmured Kiril. “Also, Lord Ilsevele has shown sympathy to the Keepers of the Cerulean Sign in the past. Now that the nilshai ate unmasked as agents of the Traitor… everyone needs to know.”

They followed the path down the silvered slopes of the grassy hillside, crossed a river on a bridge of luminous stone, and stood before the mithral gates piercing the wall surrounding the tower. The gates were closed, and in the high weeds that had sprung up around the entrance, they found the totting bodies of the half-dozen elf guards, still in knee-length hauberks of white scaled armor. All were missing their eyes.

Kiril’s hands tightened into fists as she looked at the slaughter. But all she said was, “I was wrong—we have no time.”

Raidon said, “What about Adrik’s arm?”

Kiril said, “We are days away from the next closest keep I know of in Sildeyuir. The sorcerer’s best hope remains with us. One of the Cerulean Order keeps watch on the gate leading to Stardeep’s forgotten underpassages. He knows healing arts.”

Raidon replied, “Then let us make haste. Adrik wouldn’t be here but for me.”

He didn’t give voice to his growing anxiety. How safe was his mother in a place that grew less sylvan and more like a war zone with every mile they traveled?

They went afoot for miles, heedless of the shining stars or the pearly gray glimmer that ringed the horizons. They halted for rest only when Adrik collapsed. After that, Raidon supported the sorcerer as they walked.

They passed over dry stream beds on crumbling bridges whose stones, once white, seemed discolored and bruised. They traversed empty crossroads, places where dim ways led to unknowable destinations beneath sagging silver trees. Now and then, murky windows of lonely spires fixed the travelers with blank, empty stares as they passed, unwelcoming and quiet. No lights burned from within those towers; all were dark and still, as if long abandoned.

“These seem as if they’ve been vacant longer than mere months or years,” observed Raidon, who bore more and more of Adrik’s weight as their journey wore on.

Kiril grunted, “The star elves have been in decline for the last millennia.”

Raidon cocked his head, hoping for more explanation, but the swordswoman walked on. Further explanation would not alter the land’s affliction, but understanding the situation might help stem his apprehension. The monk mentally

took hold of his mind’s reins and attempted to meditate on tranquility. What will be, will be.

With a day ot more of ttavel behind them, they paused at the lip of a shallow dell. A silver-gray mist flowed sluggishly through the hollow and across the road, like a low fog. The stars above seemed strangely dull.

Kiril said, “We should go around.”

Adrik detached himself from Raidon’s help and mumbled a few arcane syllables, then said, “Good idea. The fog rebuffs my attempts to identify it. What is it?”

“A sign we draw close to Sildeyuir’s edge, where the realm is not stable. Such intrusions have become prevalent since the nilshai’s arrival.”

The sorcerer said, “You’re saying that the mist is… what? A crack in existence?”

“Perhaps. One you don’t want to fall into.” So saying, she turned and walked away from the road and up the side of a hill. Raidon supported the sorcerer, whose spell noticeably weakened him.

But the initial misty streamer, easily bypassed, was a herald of more sightings, occasionally in the distance, other times as barriers thrown across their path. Sometimes long misty arms twisted through the trees to their left or right, paralleling their path like a hungry predator. Other times they were forced to backtrack when their route was cut off by broad swaths of the gray miasma.

Finally the forest thinned and they moved into clear land. A barren, rocky plain sloped down to a flat expanse, as if to the sea. But what lay beyond the stagnant coast was not watet. It was a shoreless ocean of gray mist, cold and perfect.

Alone on the beach stood a lean figure. They approached and saw it was a tall, lordly star elf dressed in black robes on which was emblazoned the symbol of a white tree on a field of blue. Raidon recognized a fellow initiate of focus and

self-discipline in the man’s ramrod straight posture, though he suspected the elf’s mastery lay over magic instead of the physical arts. The elf had eyes of milk white, with no hint of an iris, and his graceful features were graven with the weight of long care. A platinum circlet clamped his shaved skull. Without hair, his elven ears seemed more sinister than fey.

A circle of dead nilshai lay about the elf’s feet. Blood smudged his face and hands, and dirt stained his clothing. But he was unbowed. He watched calmly as they picked their way down the cruel slope. Raidon nearly carried Adrik when they joined the figure before the silent ocean where reality frayed to nothing.

“Edgewarden,” said Kiril, her back straightening. Raidon understood she must hold great respect for this man. “I hoped you’d still be here, guarding Stardeep’s flank.”

He studied her without speaking for a moment, then he said, “It has been a long time since a Keeper last came to visit me here at the end of the world. But the Keepers of the Cerulean Sign are an old, dusty order, eh? I wondered if perhaps I were the last.”

“Hells and blood! No aberration born or grown has yet been able to best me, and I wield the Blade Cerulean. I, at least, remain. There are Knights still in Stardeep—or there were several days ago. My companions and I must press into Stardeep to determine their fate, and the status of the Traitor.”

The bald elf said, “These creatures”—he gestured at the dead nilshai—”who’ve thrice found me here at the edge as I walked the periphery—do their attacks have anything to do with your desire to enter Stardeep? I guess they must have sympathies for the conspirator who lingers in Stardeep’s deepest dungeon.”

Kiril swallowed. “You have the right of it. The gods-damned nilshai were agents of the aboleths all along. They

and the Traitor serve the same abominable masters. I go to discover if the Traitor remains penned; I fear he’s escaped, or is on the cusp of doing so. Angul and I will try to put things right.”

The elf nodded, and Kiril continued. “Edgewarden, if I may—have you had any communication from Stardeep of late? Has news perchance reached you of a former Keeper named Nangulis?”

The man shrugged. “No one comes this way. Except for the nilshai, I haven’t seen anyone before you in seven years.”

Kiril dropped her eyes, glumly nodding.

The Edgewarden looked at Raidon and Adrik. “Are these Keepers I haven’t yet met?” His eyes lingered on Adrik and he frowned. Raidon guessed Adrik would not normally be allowed entry to the hidden realm.

“No—”

The bald elf moved to Adrik, who lay glassy-eyed on the beach. “What ails him?”

Raidon looked up. “He was poisoned by a nilshai. Can you help?”

The Edgewarden bent and ran his fingers lightly over the sorcerer’s arm, chest, and forehead. His eyes narrowed and he said, “I can provide relief, though my ministrations are only temporary.”

So saying, he muttered liquid syllables that were like a cool, refreshing wind. When Raidon tried to recall the sounds a moment later, they were gone. The Edgewarden touched Adrik with fingers sparkling as if with Stardust, and some color returned to the sorcerer’s features.

The dark-robed elf stripped away the tourniquet and helped Adrik to his feet. The sorcerer was blinking and gazing around at the beach and misty sea in bemusement. He asked, “How did we get here?”

The Edgewarden patted the sorcerer’s arm and asked Kiril,

“And your other companion?”

Kiril pointed at Raidon. “This one carries a relic of our order—his mother was a star elf, though as far as I know she never came to Stardeep. How she got an Amulet of the Sign is a mystery. She passed it to her son.”

The Edgewarden squinted at Raidon, then said, “Such telics are few and far between in these waning days of Sildeyuir. What was your mother’s name?”

The monk said, “Answering that question is the quest that brought me here. I do not know her name, only that she came from this realm.”

“I see,” responded the Edgewatden, shaking his head. “I apologize, but these lands are under threat of collapse…”

Surprising himself, Raidon broke the rules of proper discourse to interrupt. “But I just found this land! How can I protect my mother? What must I do to safeguard Sildeyuir?”

The old elf raised a placating palm. “If you and Kiril succeed in penning the Traitot, if he’s truly free, then Sildeyuir may stabilize enough for me to continue my attempt to rein-scribe its borders. If so, return and find me. I think I can help you find your mother. If not, nothing else will matter.”

Uncertainty and hope strove in Raidon’s chest. Aloud he said, “Then succeed we must. I will return to speak with you again, Edgewarden.”

“In case you do not return, know this: I suspect your mother’s name is Erunyauve.”

Raidon asked, “What, do you know her?”

“Many gifts are mine, including divination. When I look at you, I hear that name. And why not—would you be here right now if not for the amulet she left you? It is a name that is not without history of its own, though time is too short to relay it. If… when you return, I shall lend you my expertise in locating her. If she is anywhere within the realm of greater Yuireshanyaar, I can find her.”

Raidon breathed a sigh and bowed his head. Kiril broke in. “Edgewarden, please show us the path to Stardeep.”

Ignoring the sorcerer, the Edgewarden said, “I shall, before another wave of nilshai descends. I sense them massing somewhere in this damnable flux.”

So saying, he pointed up the grade they’d just descended. Raidon’s eyes found a feature some twenty paces up the slope. What the monk had taken as just another boulder protruding from the sandy grit was revealed as something more: the rocky frame of a massive iron door. Had the Edgewarden dropped an illusion covering a doorway that had been there all along, or had he called the entrance into existence by mere desire?

Xet chimed and landed on top of the rocky frame holding the gate. The tiny construct slapped the door with its long tail. A dull gong tolled out across the misty expanse.

Kiril motioned Raidon forward. “Present your amulet to the doors. Angul would serve, but I prefer to keep him sheathed.”

Raidon blinked, but he pulled forth the forget-me-not his mother—Erunyauve—had given him. He displayed it before the sealed doorway. Nothing happened. He stepped forward another pace and touched the amulet to the lackluster iron.

Blue light sparked from amulet to gate. Stones danced and skittered down the slope as the entire beach shuddered. With an ear-splitting groan, the iron door swung wide, opening onto a shadowed, dusty stone stair descending into unguessed depths.

They entered Stardeep by a route rarely taken.

CHAPTER Twenty-One

Stardeep, Underdungeon

The tunnel split, and split again as the company plunged into the warren of sedimentary rock that underlay Stardeep. The walls were smooth and white, possibly composed of salt and gypsum, but here and there patterns reminiscent of shells, bones, and teeth were picked out in the Knights’ lantern light.

“Shall I send exploratory teams into these side passages?” asked the Knight Commander riding at Telarian’s side.

“Not necessary,” replied Telarian. “They are a distraction from the main route. And the openings are too small for a mounted company. We shall continue along this broad way. We need to make good time in order to catch our opponents as far from Stardeep as possible.” More accurately, as far from Delphe’s influence as possible, he mentally added. He continued aloud, “Perhaps we’ll make it through to the othet end. If we can catch our quarry in Sildeyuir, all the better.”

Thindhul, the Knight Commander, awkward in his new authority and betraying a nervous shiver unseemly for his station, said, “How far did you say?”

Telarian frowned. The Commander knew better than to repeat such an insipid question. The passages that perforated the ground below Stardeep were a mystery; they were not delved by Stardeep’s architects, but were discovered only after foundations of the dungeon created to hold the Traitor were mostly complete. Their existence was a surprise, given that the land into which Stardeep was cut was assumed to be virginal, untouched earth called into existence at the same time as the rest of Sildeyuir. If the land beneath Stardeep was riddled with caverns, might the earth below Sildeyuir be as well? And what primeval race left those caverns behind?

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