Curse of the Shadowmage (23 page)

tomb. Needless to say, I answered yes.” He shook his head in wonder. “The next thing I knew, the crypt was gone, and I was sitting on a hill north of Soubar. What was more, the medallion had brought the pile of treasure along.”

“How thoughtful of it,” Cormik muttered darkly. “So that’s where you found the capital to set yourself up as a crime lord. That really wasn’t fair, you know. It took me years to get to that point in my career.”

Ferret gave an unimpressed shrug. “I never knew thieving was about fairness, Cormik,” he said dryly. “It’s a fascinating theory. You’ll have to convene a council of guildmasters and tell them all about it. I’m sure they’ll be quite receptive to the idea.”

“Oh, quit rubbing it in,” Cormik said petulantly. “I’m just jealous, of course. You needn’t chastise me for it. It’s perfectly natural, after all.”

‘You’re right, Cormik,” Ferret conceded. “The gold did give me the foundation for building up quite a profitable business. Of course, all the money in the world is nothing if you don’t have a natural talent for the illicit and illegal, which fortunately I do.”

“You come by it honestly,” Jewel said proudly. “Or dishonestly, as the case may be.”

Ferret flashed a crooked smile at her. “But that wasn’t all.” His smile faded into an uncharacteristically solemn expression. “I think the Shadowstar had a hand in things. For one, the local master thief conveniently dropped dead the day I strolled into Soubar. Nothing completely impossible ever happened. It just seemed that every time there was a chancy situation that could go for or against me, it always went for me. And, well”—he gestured to the opulent furnishings around them—”this is the result.”

“Why didn’t you let us know you were alive?” Mari

asked in exasperation.

Ferret scratched his chin nervously. “I was going to, really. It’s just that I started to realize being dead has its advantages. It was like being given a completely fresh start. Everyone thought the thief Ferret had met his demise, and no one knew anything at all about the man Stiletto. The fact is, I’ve found that an aura of mystery is a great weapon. No one knows what to expect from you, so they always expect the worst. That tends to make them a little more … er, pliable.” He sighed. “I suppose that’s all over now.” Ferret shook his head, dispelling his momentary melancholy. “But you still haven’t told me why you’ve been searching for me. And by the way, where’s Caledan?”

Morhion exchanged grim looks with the others. “You might wish to pour yourself another glass of wine before we explain …”

When at last Morhion had finished recounting all that had befallen, Ferret appeared visibly shaken. “Poor Caledan,” he whispered sadly.

“You can understand why we are glad to have reached you before Caledan did,” Morhion said. “The Shadowstar is the key to halting or completing his metamorphosis. With it, we should be able to—”

“You can’t have it!” Ferret snapped suddenly. As if by dark magic, the little thief’s usually cheerful face was transformed into a pale mask of suspicion. He retreated into a corner, crossing his arms and glaring at them with calculating eyes. “I should have known all along that was what you wanted, to come here and rob me. Well I won’t allow it! I’ll call my servants before I let you touch any of my treasure.” A look of pure greed crossed his face. “I found the medallion. I rescued it from the tomb. The Shadowstar is mine!” His hand strayed to the jeweled dagger at his belt as the others stared in shock. None had

ever seen Ferret behave this way.

There was a tense moment of silence. At last, Jewel stepped forward. “That’s not like you, Ferret,” she said quietly, her violet eyes intent. He gripped the hilt of the dagger more tightly, staring at her with a mixture of fear and hatred, like a cornered animal. Jewel continued to approach him, speaking calmly.

“Greed is a thief’s worst enemy, Ferret. You know that. It was the first lesson I ever taught you. A covetous thief is a dead thief. We commit thievery for our livelihood, and that’s all. As soon as the objects we steal become dearer to us than life, it is our own lives that are stolen.” Slowly, she reached out to touch his hand.

Ferret stared at her with a look of utter terror and loathing. For a moment he gripped the knife with white-knuckled hands. Then he shuddered violently and let go of the dagger. He passed his hand before his face. The look of violence vanished.

“I’m … I’m so sorry, Grandmother,” he said haggardly. “I don’t know what came over me. I must be tired, that’s all.” He turned toward Morhion. “Of course you can have the Shadowstar, Morhion, if you think it might help Caledan.” ť

Morhion only nodded. He watched the little thief thoughtfully. Once, a thousand years ago, the Shadowstar had transformed a simple minstrel into the Shadowking. Ferret had possessed the medallion only a short time, but the thief had not gone untouched by its dark influence.

Ferret led them out of the chamber and through the twisting labyrinth of his hideout. Soon they came to a door hewn of a single massive slab of the same strangely slick black marble they had seen before. “I keep all my greatest treasures in here,” Ferret explained. “The Shadowstar created the door for me. It will open only at my

touch.”

He placed his hand in a circular depression in the center of the marble slab. There was a hissing of air. Then the door parted along an unseen crack and swung silently open. Ferret took a torch from a nearby sconce and led the way. Inside the circular chamber were chests filled with glittering gems, stacks of priceless antique furniture, and heaps of ornate weapons forged from precious metals. In the center of the chamber was a pedestal upon which rested a black velvet cushion, and on the cushion rested …

Nothing.

“By Shar!” Ferret swore in disbelief. “It’s gone! The Shadowstar!”

“But how?” Mari demanded. “I thought you said that only you could open the door.”

“A door created by shadow magic,” Morhion added pointedly. From beneath his shirt, he drew out the ruby amulet. It glowed a brilliant crimson. “Caledan was here,” he said grimly.

“I don’t think we really need your amulet to tell us that,” Jewel replied, pointing to the far wall. A patch of stone looked as if it had melted and resolidified, forming the shape of a grotesque mouth that gaped open in a silent, frozen scream.

“In which case,” Cormik added soberly, “he now has the Shadowstar.”

Kellen bowed his head in sorrow. “Then we’ve lost.”

Fifteen

“So where will he go now?” Mari asked the question as she paced restlessly back and forth across a thick Amnian rug. They had regrouped in Ferret’s luxurious receiving chamber.

“Ebenfar,” Morhion said after a moment.

The others looked at him in puzzlement.

“Ebenfar was the ancient kingdom ruled by Verraketh, the Shadowking,” the mage explained. “Think of the words spoken by the two ghosts. The shade of Talek Talembar warned that a new king would rise to take the place of the old. And Kera’s ghost warned Mari not to let Caledan ascend a throne.” He smoothed a wrinkle from his long purple vest. “Now that he has the Shadowstar, Caledan will journey to Ebenfar, to rule as the new shadowking from Verraketh’s throne.”

Mari shivered. “If Caledan’s transformation won’t be complete until he sits upon Verraketh’s throne, then he

isn’t a shadowking yet,” she said fiercely. “I’m going after him, to stop him before he reaches Ebenfar.”

“You will not go alone,” Morhion said solemnly. “But there is a problem.” He took a deep breath. “I do not know where Ebenfar is. We can follow Caledan’s trail, as we have been doing, but we have little chance of reaching Ebenfar before him.”

Mari’s heart sank. Morhion knew so much—she had simply assumed he would also know the location of Verraketh’s ancient kingdom. She shook her head in despair. Now what were they to do?

A chill gust of air blew through the chamber, ruffling the tapestries and causing the chamber’s oil lamps to gutter crazily. In the center of the room, a dark figure materialized out of thin air. It was a man, clad in ornate armor as black as polished onyx. Clearly, he was not alive. His eyes smoldered like hot cinders, and Mari could see dimly through the vaporous substance of his body.

“Serafi!” Morhion choked on the word.

Mari stared at Morhion. Serafi—that was the name of the dark spirit with whom, years ago, the mage had forged a pact to save Caledan’s life. The others gaped at the dusky spirit in horror, except for Kellen, whose gaze was calm and interested.

“Why have you come to me?” Morhion said hoarsely. “Why here, and why now?”

The spectral knight seemed to absorb all the light in the room. “I have come because it is clear you are far too stupid to complete your quest without my help,” Serafi hissed. “And complete it you must, so that I can claim my due.”

“How can I possibly afford any more of your help, Serafi?” Morhion sneered.

“Oh, indeed, you cannot,” the spirit intoned with sinister mirth. “So, in my generosity, I will give it to you freely. The lost kingdom of Ebenfar lies in the center of the High Moor. Journey there. I will come to you from time to time, to guide you. Now go. And remember, I will always be near.” With a blast of charnel house air, the spirit vanished.

At last, a rattled Cormik spoke. “What, in the name of all that’s holy, was that?”

“The spirit Serafi has little to do with holiness,” Morhion replied darkly. He cast a glance at Mari. For a moment, she thought she detected fear in his eyes. Then his face grew cool and impassive, his mask in place once more. “I will explain later,” he went on. “Right now, we must ready ourselves for our journey to the High Moor.”

Purple dusk was upon them as they gathered with their horses outside a tent-stable on the edge of Soubar. They dared not wait until morning to leave. Ferret had seen the Shadowstar in his treasure room yesterday. That meant Caledan was only a single day ahead of them. With the help of the eerie Serafi, they might have a chance of beating him to Ebenfar. Once there, Mari was not certain how they would get the Shadowstar away from Caledan. But get it they must, so Kellen could cast the spell Morhion had discovered in the Mal’eb’dala and stop Caledan’s horrible transformation.

Ferret threw a saddlebag and bedroll onto the back of a skittish roan stallion and mounted alongside the others. Morhion gave him a piercing look. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Going with you,” Ferret replied nonchalantly. “Caledan is my friend, too, you know.” A sharp light glinted in his beady eyes. “Besides, I imagine there’s all sorts of lost treasure in Ebenfar.”

Both Cormik and Jewel were flabbergasted.

“But you can’t simply leave your business like this!”

Jewel protested. “An underworld empire doesn’t run itself, love. Surely you know that.”

“I truly hate to say this, but Jewel is right,” Cormik added. “Who’s going to take care of all your operations while you’re gone?”

“Actually,” Ferret said matter-of-factly, “I was rather hoping you two would.”

The effect this had on the two crime lords was astonishing. Mari had never before seen either of them at a loss for words. When at last they found their tongues, it was to protest vehemently, but Ferret refused to take no for an answer. At last the two agreed, not entirely with reluctance. Clearly they were more than a little excited by the notion of running someone else’s thieving empire.

“Think of it,” Cormik said with relish. “All the fun without any of the responsibility!”

“Don’t get carried away, love,” Jewel said dryly. “I’m sure Ferret would like it if some of his empire actually remained intact by the time he returns.”

“Oh, bother!” Cormik said petulantly. “I can see you’re going to be a stick-in-the-mud. Well, my dear, sour shrew, I’m not going to let you spoil my fun.”

“We’ll have lots of fun,” Jewel countered dangerously. “As long as we do things my way, my sweet, bloated simpleton.”

The two fell to eager scheming about which duties would be whose. Ferret guided his horse toward Mari, nodding toward Jewel and Cormik. “So how long have they been in love?” he asked softly.

Mari gaped at him. Love? What was Ferret talking about? Yet even as she was about to dismiss this as an impossibility, she realized the truth of it. She had been so caught up in the search for Caledan that she had been blind to what was happening in front of her eyes. Now, as she looked at the two crime lords, it seemed comically

obvious. They bent their heads near as they spoke, touching hands, and even as they hurled caustic insults at each other, their eyes glowed with affectionate mischief.

“I’m not certain,” Mari murmured. “But I’m glad they found each other.”

It was time to go. They bid a warm farewell to Jewel and Cormik, then turned to ride into the gathering gloom. Suddenly Mari raised a hand. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. “Get back into the tent,” she hissed. Such was her tone that the others did not argue.

Mari watched through a thin gap in the canvas as a lone figure appeared on a distant rise, moving toward the sprawling tent city. Even before she saw his face, she guessed who he was. When he drew near enough for her to catch a glint of two glowing amber eyes, there could be no doubt. Her heart contracted in terror when the tall, lean man paused. He seemed to sniff the air. Then, swiftly, he loped toward the heart of town, disappearing from view. Mari breathed a sigh of relief.

“I was afraid this would happen,” she whispered.

“You were afraid what would happen?” Morhion asked.

She swallowed hard. “The Harpers have sent one of their Hunters after us. Or perhaps after Caledan. It doesn’t really make a difference.”

“A hunter?” Ferret asked. “Maybe he can catch a few pheasants for our stew pot.”

“He’s not that kind of hunter, Ferret,” Mari replied darkly. “People are his usual prey, not animals. I’ve heard of this particular Hunter. His name is K’shar, and he’s a half-elf. I’ve also heard that no quarry has ever escaped him.”

“And just what does he do when he catches his quarry?” Ferret asked nervously. “Use your imagination.” “Oh. I was afraid you would say that.”

“It looks as though this K’shar is just arriving in Soubar,” Cormik said. He turned to Jewel. “What do you say we arrange a few interesting diversions for him, to make certain that he doesn’t leave town quickly?”