The sight caught me off guard, and left me breathless. A million questions spun in my head then disappeared. I wanted to respond, to say something, anything, but no words came out. Perrault continued.

  "A lesson for you, child,"-he spat the word angrily, as if it were an insult-"the most important one you shall ever hear from me. You protect first those you love then yourself, and last everyone else. You are my ward, so I will protect you first among all the souls in this world. And if doing so means harming others, even those who deserve no such harm, then so be it."

  He grimaced then turned his back to me, pulling off the shirt and the bandage beneath. I saw the wound only for an instant, but it was long enough to horrify me.

  The gash was an angry red, dripping watery, pale fluid. The flesh around it was blackened and burned where the demon's fire had touched it. It looked as if it had not healed at all-it looked as if it had grown worse.

  Perrault got up and opened the cupboards. Finding what he sought, he pulled out a fresh linen sheet. He murmured a few words, poured some liquid on the fabric from a vial in his pocket, and tore the sheet into strips. Quickly, sure-handedly, he wrapped the linen tightly around his torso then pulled a fresh shirt from the cupboard and put it on.

  "It's not about me-is it?" My words came out in a rush. "None of this is about me. It's about this stone. If you really cared about me, you wouldn't have cursed me with it." I ripped my shirt open and tugged the bandolier off my chest. "Why don't you just take it back?"

  I marched over to Perrault, shaking the leather strap with every step I took. "Because of this stone, I'm an orphan. Because of this stone, I don't even know my real name. So tell me, why is it worth so much to everyone? To everyone but me?"

  Perrault turned to face me and I could see the pain in his sunken eyes. His beard seemed more white than gray; his pale skin sagged.

  "That stone is your heirloom and it will be forever intertwined with your destiny. I cannot answer any more than that, Maimun. There are some things you must learn for yourself." He looked as if he'd aged a decade in the past hour. His breath was labored. "Now please, child, help me to the bed."

  I took his hand and was shocked by how cold it felt. He shuffled to the bed and helped him slide beneath the woolen blanket.

  "We will make port in three days," Perrault said. "From Waterdeep, we make for Silverymoon with all haste. I've a friend there who will hide you."

  "But what of you?" I asked. "You're hurt. You need help."

  "I'll be fine. And besides, the finest healers in all Faerun are in Silverymoon. Now, get some rest."

  I supposed the plan was as good as any, though I knew the journey to Silverymoon would be long. Perrault had just placed a salve and fresh bandages on his wound, and he was a skilled healer. The oil he poured on the linen was surely magical, so I hoped the wound would heal soon.

  I pulled some blankets from the cupboard, wrapped myself in them, and lay on the floor, affording Perrault the comfort of the cabin's only bed.

  Perrault spent the next day in the cabin, barely moving, and sent me to fetch our meals. I had planned to seek out the captured crew, to learn Joen's fate, but Perrault's condition seemed far more urgent and I had to push my plan aside.

  The second morning, he couldn't even rise from bed. The ship's healer came to see him, but was unable to do more than simply change the bandage. Captain Baram personally delivered our meals, to check on Perrault, and he informed us-informed me, as Perrault was asleep-that we were making fine time and were near the coast, but a powerful storm was battering Waterdeep and we couldn't sail into the harbor.

  The third morning, Perrault did not wake.

  Chapter Twenty- Three

  "You should wait till we hit port." Captain Baram's voice was gentler than I'd ever heard it, full of something like pity. Somehow, that made me angry."Can't wait. Can't stay here with pirates," I spat.

  We stood on the deck of the pirate ship mere moments after I had tried-and failed-to wake Perrault. I knew right away that we couldn't stay aboard and wait out the storm. Perrault didn't have that kind of time.

  "Plenty of good healers in Waterdeep," Baram continued. "They'll fix him up right. You won't make it to Silverymoon."

  I hefted Haze's saddle onto her back. "Best healers in Faerun are in Silverymoon. Perrault said so."

  Baram gave Haze a long look. "You sure she'll make it to shore?"

  "She wouldn't let Perrault down. No chance, not ever." I finished with the saddle buckles and moved to Perrault, who lay on a cot the crew had dragged onto the deck. "Help me, would you?" I said, and a pair of crewmen obliged, helping me hoist him onto the saddle. His skin was hot and feverish, and his eyes flickered but never fully opened. He seemed halfway between sleep and waking, halfway between life and death.

  I began to tie Perrault into the saddle.

  "You'll be riding straight into a thunderstorm," the captain said. "Storm this far north, this time of year, gonna be a rough one, I'll tell you that much."

  "We'll make it." I took Perrault's cloak from his back and fastened it around my neck. It was too long and dragged on the ground, but I didn't care. I reached into his boot sheath and withdrew his magical stiletto, sliding it into one of my belt loops. I slipped the straps of our haversack over my shoulders. Though it contained hundreds of books, it felt light as a feather.

  "I have no doubt you'll make it," Baram said. "But you must make haste, or he will not."

  I nodded, and swung up into the saddle. "I thank you for your hospitality, Captain Baram," I said, holding out my hand.

  He took it in his strong grasp, and gave a firm shake. "If ever you find yourself in Luskan, do come find me," he said.

  I gave him one last nod, took up Haze's reins, and headed overboard.

  I had no plan to travel to Silverymoon, nor to trust Perrault's fate to the healers in Waterdeep, but I wasn't about to confide my real destination to a pirate.

  I knew the one who could save Perrault, and she lived in Baldur's Gate.

  Baldur's Gate, where I had been only a few days ago.

  Baldur's Gate, the city where Perrault had been wounded trying to protect me.

  We ran southeast, covering a great distance in a short time. After a few hours, the coast was in sight-and not a moment too soon, as I could feel Haze growing weary beneath me. At first, it had felt as if she were running on a cloud, but her hooves soon began to splash the water with every stride. We would be ashore soon, but along the coastline loomed a massive black cloud. Lightning rent the air, and waves of thunder rolled out to greet us like some ominous warning.

  Turn back, said the thunderstorm. It is futile. You are doomed. Turn back.

  Soon we were riding through a downpour, bolts of lightning crackling overhead, thunder following close behind. The storm increased in fury as bolt after bolt blazed out, the thunder chasing it like an evil laugh, the world laughing in my face, taunting me.

  But we made the shore.

  Haze stumbled and nearly fell as her hooves finally touched solid ground. Tired and soaked, I tumbled head-over-heels off her back, landing hard. Perrault remained firmly tied in place. His breathing was exceedingly shallow, and the bandage over his wound was saturated.

  I climbed to my feet and walked to Haze, laying my face against hers. Those intelligent gray eyes looked at me, exhausted.

  "I know you're tired," I said to her, "but if we stop now, he dies."

  I could see in the way she reacted that she understood me. She pulled herself up, forced her back straight, and stood with pride, power, and grace.

  "That's my good girl," I whispered, pulling myself back into the saddle. Haze was off and running before I even settled into my seat.

  A normal horse moving at a normal pace can cover about fifty miles in a day if the weather is good and her rider lets her run. The journey from Waterdeep to Baldur's Gate is about five hundred miles, so the journey should have taken about ten days.

  We made it in two.

  We thundered through the city gates at a full gallop, Haze still managing a run despite having not slept, not even stopped her run, in forty hours and five hundred miles. The city guards shouted in protest and tried to stop us, but they couldn't keep up. Soon we were pounding through the city streets. Haze knew our destination without my guidance, and finally we skidded to a halt in front of the Empty Flagon.

  Alviss, who had seen us coming, met us at the door.

  I swung off the horse and handed her reins to the dwarf. "Take care of them," I said, turning to leave.

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "I must find Jaide. Where is she?"

  "She's… she'sinhertemple,"hestammered.

  "But you shouldn't be here. The demon is still looking for you!"

  "I don't care. I need to find Jaide, to save Perrault," I said. "Which temple is hers?"

  "The Lady's Hall," he said. "But wait! Don't go just yet." Alviss ran through the Empty Flagon's door and returned a few seconds later, sweat beading on his brow. He motioned for me to hold out my hand, and into my palm he pressed a slip of parchment. "You'll need this. Read the word aloud and she'll know it's you. It's the only way to enter her temple."

  I was running toward the temple district before he could say another word. I heard him yelling after me, a stream of words lost to the wind, but his last two broke through clearly enough: "Be careful!"

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Lady's Hall-the temple to Tymora, goddess of good fortune and a matron deity to Baldur's Gate-was like nothing I had ever seen. It was huge and magnificent. High walls of white stone had statues placed every few feet depicting the goddess Tymora, her sister Beshaba, or one of her heroes fighting some dragon or devil. Mighty towers rose all around the building. Carvings covered them, layer upon layer of reliefs winding up the walls. Each tower was a giant work of art. At their tops were bells, perfect in both shape and sound.I didn't stop to stare at the massive building. I had a purpose, and I moved deliberately, circling the temple to the east. I came to a narrow alley between the temple and another large building-it looked like a wealthy person's home-and moved along, looking for the door. But I found no entrance on either of the structures.

  Behind the large house I found a ramshackle, run-down hut. The hovel's weather-beaten door had a carving of a sun with a face on it, eyes closed and mouth slightly upturned.

  I reached into my pocket for the parchment and when I pulled it out there was another object in my hand. I unfolded the parchment, intent upon reading the word and entering the place.

  "Tookyou long enough."

  I started, because I recognized that voice.

  Asbeel.

  "At last you have come to fulfill your destiny. And you brought me the key to the priestess's home. Well done!" He laughed a terrible laugh.

  I crumpled up the paper with my left hand and slipped it into a pocket, reaching with my right for the stiletto on my belt. I tried to keep my hand steady, but the unfamiliar weight of the stiletto and the cold feeling in my gut made that impossible.

  "Begone, snake," I hissed at him.

  When I drew the weapon, Asbeel laughed even louder than before.

  "The bard's cloak, and his dagger too! The rumors must be true-mighty Perrault is dead!"

  He was defenseless; he had no weapon, not even his obsidian staff. His eyes were half-closed as he laughed. I snapped my wrist-the stiletto lengthened into a fine saber-and leaped at him, lunging for his throat.

  But my sword passed harmlessly though him.

  I knew my mistake as soon as I heard the beat of wings behind me. The illusion in front of me faded as I spun to face the real Asbeel, swooping down from the rooftops, his obsidian staff swinging for my head. I barely managed to get my sword up to block, but the strength of the blow was incredible. I went flying backward, the sword falling from my hand, and landed hard.

  "No more games, little one. You were mine from your birth, and with the bard gone, I claim you for my own. As it should be. Do not resist, or I will have to hurt you." He stalked forward, staff at the ready.

  I had seen Asbeel fight Perrault and I knew I couldn't hope to defeat the demon. I got to my feet and retrieved my sword, quickly thinking through my options. What could I do? What could I use against him?

  Then there was a blinding flash that set the world alight; and there was a voice, a woman's voice, cool and velvety and powerful all at once.

  "Let him be, demon, he is beyond you," said the voice. "Gome and play with me a while." Somewhere I heard a door click shut. The light was suddenly gone, and standing in the alley was the beautiful Jaide.

  She was unarmed and unarmored, but still she looked formidable. Asbeel sensed it too. He turned from me, dropping his staff and drawing his sword. The blade burst into flame as he rushed her. A staff appeared in her hand, not a physical object but a concentrated beam of light, and she parried his blow and struck back hard.

  Asbeel barely managed to dodge, and he fell back a step. Jaide pressed the attack, her every movement graceful, the staff an extension of her will. The fight was dazzling, but it could not hold my focus, for suddenly a voice spoke in my head.

  Run away, Maimun, Jaide said without speaking. Run and hide.

  Perrault is sick! I mentally screamed back, somehow knowing she would hear me. You need to help him!

  I have always helped him. But there is nothing more either of us can do for him now except to keep you and the stone safe. There was a finality to her words, but also serenity. I felt my heart clutch in my chest at the confirmation that Perrault was truly gone.

  I don't want the stone, I replied.

  That's notjour choice to make. Keep it, and keep it safe.

  Where should I go? I thought, defeated.

  Anywhere but here. It is best if I do not know. Don't let the city guards see you, if you can, for many of them are allied with your foes. Run now, and take heart, for you will be blessed with luck in whatever travels you take.

  I nodded at her, though she could not see-the battle raged on, sword and staff clashing together, bursts of fire and light illuminating the shadowy alley. I turned and ran.

  I stopped at the end of the alley, one final thought coming to mind, and I hoped she could still hear me. Will you kill Asbeel?

  Her response was faint, so faint at first I couldn't understand it. But she repeated it over and over, or perhaps it was merely an echo: That is for you to do.

  Part Three

  The Stowaway A sharp bang on the door startled me from my tale. "Grub's up, Cap'n," came the muffled call from outside."Good, good. Bring mine in here," the pirate sitting before me replied. He paused a moment. "Make that a double ration."

  No response came from outside save heavy booted footsteps walking away.

  "So you're the captain then?" I asked. "That's new."

  "What, ye think we'd let any old salt interrogate ye?"

  "Is that what you've been doing?"

  "Somethin' like that. Found out who ye sailed with, didn't I?"

  "You found out who I sailed with long ago," I said.

  Again the knock, and the door swung open, revealing a sandy passage leading to… was that the night sky? The rhythmic pounding of the waves against a cliff drifted up the corridor, along with the smell of salt water. A flicker of light at the end of the hall told me there was probably a camp fire, and there was a low hum, like a song being sung in the distance. The other pirates were nearby.

  I pondered the possibility of escape-bowl over the captain, maybe take his sword, and fight my way past this other pirate whose hands were full. But that would put me outside, among the whole crew. Their mooring would surely be someplace hidden, a cove or an island. There would be nowhere for me to run.

  No, I decided it wasn't the time for an escape. Perhaps when the captain left.

  Once the captain had his food, the door swung shut again.

  "Thinkin' it, weren't ye?" he asked.

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Ye were gonna make a run fer it."

  I shrugged. "It wasn't my moment."

  "No, it weren't. Ye think yer moment'U come soon, do ye?"

  "I've been through worse than this."

  The captain set down his food-a lump of some shapeless slop and two small cuts of blackened, salted meat-and began picking at it.

  "Hungry, are you?" I asked.

  "You bet yer ugly arse I'm hungry. Captainin' be hard work."

  "Hence the double rations."

  "What, did ye think some of it was fer ye? Ye don't get food till I says ye get food."

  I shrugged. "Then you get no more of my story."

  The captain stopped. "Ye finished yer story, didn't ye? Ye already told me what happens next. Ye ran off from the demon, found Deudermont's ship, and stowed away. Ye met the drow, fought the sea troll, and made good with yer captain who offered ye a job aboard his ship. Got back to where ye started from."

  "I did, but there's still more to tell."

  "Yar, I know. Let me tell it. Ye sailed with Deudermont fer the next six years and then ye got yerself caught by me crew. Good tale. Not worth me givingye any o' me food." Some of the colorless slop spilled from his mouth with each word.

  "If you believed that, you wouldn't have taken your meal here."

  The pirate stared at me for a long while. "Clever boy, ain't ye?" He reached down, took one of the slices of meat, and tossed it to me. "Speak, then."

  I took a bite. It wasn't half bad, despite its appearance, and I was famished.

  "Very well," I began. "Let's pick up back on Sea Sprite."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sea Sprite had no empty cabin to house the several sailors wounded in the skirmish with the pirates. Instead, Captain Deudermont had a spare sail hung wall-to-wall in the crew cabin, separating the dozen bunks nearest the stern of the ship.Deudermont said that would prevent dirt and diseases from the other sailors from creeping into the same area as the wounded and causing infection. I figured it was to keep the garish injuries, some much worse than my own gash, out of sight of the rest of the crew.