The Nether Scroll (8 page)

Dru shook his head. "Give this to your gods, Sheemzher. I acted for myself." He freed
himself of the goblin's hand and the gift.

"Keep it, Dru. We could use a little reward about now," Galimer suggested.

"Yes, good sir. Keep reward. Open reward?"

Rozt'a sheathed her knives. "Oh, go ahead and get it over with. I don't know which is
harder to believe: that you rescued a warty runt or that one's come to reward you for doing it.
I haven't seen so much color since we left Llorkh."

"Lady Mantis favorite colors. Sheemzher wear favorite colors."

Rozt'a's hands went back to her knife hilts. "Lady Mantis? That's not the name you gave
before. You said Windy-something before."

The goblin stiffened and clapped his hands together. "Lady Mantis same good lady
Wyndyfarh. Good lady Wyndyfarh same Lady of the Wood. Sheemzher serve good lady.
Sheemzher proud."

Dru ceased fumbling with the knotted silk. "Weathercote Wood?"

"Yes, good sir. Good lady Wyndyfarh lives Weathercote Wood. Weathercote Wood magic
wood. Weathercote Wood many wonder wood. But good lady Wyndyfarh most wonder, good
sir. Most, most wonder."

"Is your lady a wizard?"

"Good lady Wyndyfarh great lady, good sir. All Weathercote people great people. Great,
good sir, not wizard. Good sir wizard, yes?"

Without dwelling on the goblin's distinctions between good, great, and the practitioners of
magic, Dru reminded himself that if Sheemzher had seen him rescue the child, then he'd
probably seen him cast the gloomy spell.

"Please, good sir, open reward?"

Before Dru finished with the knots, Tiep found his voice. "You've seen Lady Mantis?"

Tiep's voice broke as it hadn't in years. His normally dark complexion had gone sallow.
Lady Mantis must have quite a reputation among the Parnasters.

"Sheemzher serve good lady Wyndyfarh. Good lady same Lady Mantis." The goblin
answered Tiep's question but didn't honor him with a "good sir" nor even the "good man" he'd
hung on Galimer.

"She's real? She's not just a story?" Tiep persisted.

"What real? All Weathercote people real. What people not real?"

"What's this about a story?" Rozt'a demanded. "Tiep, you look like you swallowed a ghost.
What stories have you heard?"

"Stories," Tiep whispered without taking his eyes off Sheemzher. "Lady Mantis comes to
the village at night, when someone's sick or dying. She heals them ... sometimes. But
sometimes, she just comes and steals a Zhentarim or two." He retreated toward the wall.
"One that needs stealing. They say she eats them. They never come back, that's for certain."

That had to be the least believable tale Tiep had ever told. Dru broke the cord knotting up
the silk. Four coins clattered to the floor. Three were the angular bits of black metal that
passed for currency in the charterhouse. The fourth was bright silver and larger than the
others combined.

Twilight had gone to evening and they needed to light the lamp, but even without it, Dru
saw knew he'd never seen this coin's like before. No coin minted near the Heartlands bore
the sun's face on one side and a dragon on the other. He offered the coin to Galimer who lit
the lamp before accepting it.

"Is this what I think it is?" Galimer asked with his thumbnail framing the script beneath the
dragon's wing.

"Sure looks like it to me." He left the coin in Galimer's care and towered over the goblin.
"Who minted that coin? How did you get it?"

Sheemzher wrung his hands. "Good lady Wyndyfarh send Sheemzher here. Good lady
Wyndyfarh give Sheemzher silver. Sheemzher buy food, other things. Sheemzher bargain
good, good sir. Sheemzher had too much silver; not now. Sheemzher reward good sir. Good
lady not angry. Good lady have many, many coins, good sir. Many, many same silver coins."

Common wisdom said goblins weren't clever enough to deceive a human. Common
wisdom also said that goblins scavenged what little clothing they wore and never bathed.
Druhallen would wager every last one of the good lady's many silver coins that Sheemzher
had nothing in common with common wisdom.

"Where does your lady get her coins?" he asked.

The goblin shrugged. "Sheemzher not know. Good lady know. Good sir ask good lady,
yes? Good lady wise. Good lady know Wood. Good lady know coin. Good lady know all.
Good sir ask good lady; good sir become wise."

Dru was thinking that Lady Mantis had her own mint somewhere when Rozt'a asked,
"What did he give you? Is it an elven coin? Something from Myth Drannor?"

"Better," he replied. "We've seen the script before on an old piece of glass, but this coin
could have been minted yesterday." Druhallen looked again at Sheemzher. "Your lady's not
using someone else's stamps to mint her coins, is she?"

The goblin shook his head solemnly. "What be stamps, good sir? What be mint, good sir?
Sheemzher confused; people not clever. Good lady Wyndyfarh have coins. Good sir need
coins? Good sir need special coins. Good lady help good sir. Good lady kind."

Druhallen threw back his head and laughed. "Amarandaris. He's cleverer than I thought."
He looked down on the goblin. "Amarandaris sent you, didn't he?"

"No, good sir. Sheemzher come alone. Good lady Wyndyfarh say, 'Stay out of the way of
the Zhentarim. There's no reason for them to know anything they don't expect.' "

When it came to quoting his good lady's speech, the goblin got the words right but used an
unfamiliar, lilting accent. Sheemzher was a mystery and so was his good lady. Druhallen
exchanged a glance with Galimer; they were both intrigued. They were both wizards; curiosity
was their greatest vice.

"Why that coin, Sheemzher?" Dru pointed at the silver in Galimer's hand. "Why reward me
with that particular coin? Do all her silver coins look like that one, with dragons and a sun's
face. Do they all have that squiggly script around the wing? Do you know what it says,
Sheemzher? What it means? Where it's from and how many years have passed since it was
minted?"

"Not clever, good sir. People not clever. Sheemzher not clever. Good sir visit Wood, yes?
Good sir ask good lady. Good lady wise. Good lady answer."

"Good lady," Dru repeated. "Good lady Wyndyfarh. Lady Mantis. Mantis. That's a bug, isn't
it? A bug with big eyes and clasped hands. The Kozakurans put them in cages and keep
them as pets. Is that what happened to you?"

"What be Kozakuran, good sir? What be pet?"

"Give it up, Dru!" Galimer advised, slapping him across the back. "You're talking to a
goblin! Might as well interrogate a four-year-old! We'll keep the coin—if it's as old as it looks,
the dog-face has given us a fortune. If not, at least the silver's pure."
Druhallen had blinked when he heard Amarandaris's words coming out of Galimer's
mouth, but there was merit in what both men had said. He took the coin from Galimer's hand.
He'd seen ancient coins dug out of the ground. All tarnished and corroded, they didn't look
like the goblin's coin. The goblin's coin—Lady Wyndyfarh's coin—shone; its relief was sharp. The
coin had to be new; it couldn't have come from Netheril.

"Call it coincidence, Dru, and let it go. We've got more important things to worry about."
Galimer cocked his head toward Tiep, who hadn't budged from the wall.

Before Dru could agree, the goblin was tugging on his sleeve.

"Good sir leave Parnast? Good sir need leave? Need leave quick? Sheemzher know way.
Sheemzher know very best way leave Parnast. Sheemzher help good sir. Good lady help;
Sheemzher promise."

Rozt'a joined Dru, Galimer, and the goblin at the center of the room. "What gave you the
idea that we wanted to leave Parnast?" she demanded coldly.

Sheemzher released Dru's sleeve and backed away. "Good sir meet Zhentarim lord. Go
up together. Come down each alone. Good sir angry, not happy. Zhentarim angry, not happy.
Sheemzher confused. Sheemzher worry. Good sir save child. Sheemzher understand. Good
sir wise; good sir leave Parnast, yes? Sheemzher come. Sheemzher help good sir leave
Parnast."

"And get an arrow in my back? You almost had me, Sheemzher. I was starting to believe
you. It's dark, the gates are shut. Once curfew's rung around here, the Zhentarim shoot
anything that moves."

"Good sir safe with Sheemzher. Good sir and all friends. Not horses. Horses not come.
Sheemzher give friends silver coins. Horses safe with friends. Good sir, friends safe with
Sheemzher. Good lady give good sir silver—"

"Enough!" Rozt'a shouted. She clamped her hand on the goblin's neck. "It's time for you to
leave."

"Sheemzher return before dawn, good sir," the goblin said, wriggling out of Rozt'a's grasp.
Things didn't usually escape from Rozt'a. "If good sir ready, Sheemzher lead good sir,
friends. Good sir, friends, safe with Sheemzher. Weathercote Wood welcome good sir,
friends. Good lady welcome good sir, friends. Sun not set, good lady welcome. Good lady
help."

The goblin opened the door himself and was gone.

Rozt'a pulled it shut. With practiced moves, she looped the latch string around the bolt and
pulled it taut. "That was no natural creature. If he comes back, he can scream himself blue
before I'll let him in. I say, melt those coins and quickly!"

Dru shrugged and handed the coin to Galimer. "What are the chances that it's truly
Netherese?"

"About the same as someone called Lady Mantis having a goblin servant."

Tiep stirred. "She might. I could ask Manya—"

"Village talk," Rozt'a sniffed. "Every wood is haunted when you're a farmer."

"Weathercote is haunted—well, not quite haunted. There's Lady Mantis and the Gray Man and a
bunch of others. They're not wizards, Dru, not according to Manya; they're more than wizards. She
wouldn't go into Weathercote Wood for love nor money, but her pa said he met the Gray Man when he
was young. He showed me an arrow: a gray-metal arrow. Not tin or steel or anything I'd seen before.
He told me to try breaking the shaft. I thought he was joking, but I couldn't make it bend."

"What about Lady Mantis?" Dru asked. "I got a look at your face when the goblin spoke
that name. If you're in trouble, Tiep, you'd be wisest to tell us everything right now."

Tiep stiffened. "No trouble," he insisted, not altogether convincingly.

Dru thought fast. What they needed to do was get out of Parnast quickly, before
discomfort became disaster. He missed the first part of what Tiep had to say about the
goblin's lady.

"... tall, and always wears white. Her hair's white, too, with brown stripes, not up and
down, but crosswise."

"Lady Mantis sounds more like Lady Owl to me," Galimer judged. "A woman alone in the
woods with a goblin—unusual, yes, but not unthinkable, if she's a wizard, or more than a wizard. I
saw you ring the dog-face early on. Anything come of that?"

"Sheemzher's a goblin. I've never measured a goblin. I didn't sense anything
extraordinary—nothing like a stripe-haired woman pretending to be something she wasn't. I believe
that he's a servant ... a minion. I took a walk to Weathercote this morning. You know how a place feels
when it feels too peaceful?"

Galimer nodded.

"The forest around here has that feel."

"Forget the forest! Last I heard we had Zhentarim trouble," Rozt'a fumed. "Forget the dog-
face and his bug-lady. Forget everything except that he claims he saw Amarandaris looking
angry after you left. Are we going to slip out of here tonight?" She confronted Tiep. "You've
gotten way too friendly, way too fast with this Manya and her family. They know you're just
passing through. There wasn't any good reason for her father to be telling you his life story, or
was there?"

The youth screwed his lips into a scowl. "Maybe he didn't want me thinking that his life
hadn't been exciting. Look, are we going to cut and run?"

"Tiep!" Rozt'a roared.

"Well, if we're not, and you're done taking my life apart, I'd like to go out—"

His voice faded before he got to the where and why parts of his desire. Dru caught
questioning glances from Rozt'a and Galimer.

"We're not running," Dru decided. "If we run once, we'll be running forever. We'll find a way
to ride out of here with our heads up."

"I'll try the merchants again tomorrow," Galimer offered. "Now that I know what we're up
against, I might have better luck."

"So, can I go out?" Tiep interrupted Galimer. "And what about the blue-eyes? Can I trade
for the boxes?"

Rozt'a planted herself in front of the door. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Is her word final?" Tiep appealed to Dru and Galimer.

Galimer said, "Yes. You're staying here."

Druhallen surprised himself by saying, "No. What's cut, stays cut. If you're not telling the
truth, you're the one who has to live with yourself."

The youth grimaced the way youths had grimaced at their elders since the dawn of time.
"I'm fine. What about the blue-eyes? Can I trade?"

That was Galimer's decision alone. The gold-haired wizard studied the rafters, doing
calculations in his head. "Against your own share or in common?"

"Common," Tiep said eagerly. "They're good boxes, Galimer. You'd agree if you'd seen
them. And not too big. I can nest 'em behind my saddle. It's a good trade."

"All right, you've got your blue-eyes, but not a genuine Cormyr stamp. Give them the usual
Zhentarim counterfeits. Odds on, they wouldn't know a true Cormyr coin if it rose up and bit
them on the nose. If they do, offer five true-silver falcons and not a thumb more."

"Not a thumb!" Tiep agreed.

Rozt'a looked like a storm about to break, but she stepped aside to let Tiep untie her latch
knot. She held the door and her tongue until he was gone.

"What's the matter with the two of you? You know he's not after wooden boxes! I've half a
mind to follow him."

Dru cleared his throat. "Go after him now, and Longfingers and I will decide how we're
getting out of here while you're both gone."