by Troy Denning
In late morning, purple veils began to drift down from the clouds. At first, the sight of the distant rain lifted the trio's spirits, but as the shower moved toward them, it became apparent that the rain was not reaching the ground. The hot air rising from the salt flats was changing the water into vapor long before it reached the desert floor. Ruha cast one forlorn glance at the shower, then shook her head and kept her attention fixed on the crusty ground beneath her camel's feet.
Both the clouds and the shower vanished with the arrival of afternoon. Once again the basin was a glistening sea of salt and the sky a blue canopy. A shimmering lake appeared on the horizon. Ruha knew the distant water to be nothing but a reflection of the sapphire sky, but the mirage was unbearable. Most of the time, she was conscious of her thirst only as a constant discomfort that kept her from swallowing. With the blue lake on the horizon, she could think of nothing but the half-full waterskin. Her thirst became a raging fire, and she had to fight every moment to keep from opening the waterskin and drinking until she burst.
By evening a line of indigo mounds floated on the waters of the mirage, and Ruha realized they were closing on the edge of the salt flat. She told Kadumi to steer their path toward the largest of the dark-colored pyramids.
Encouraged by the sight of the mountains, they rode well past dark, not stopping until the ground began to rise and the footing became unsteady. The trio finally made camp in the bottom of a dry gulch and even found enough dried brush to make a fire-although they had nothing to cook on it.
The next morning, they rose with the dawn and saw that they were camped in the foothills at the base of a small mountain range. To the west, the mountains themselves rose five thousand feet into the sky, forming a jagged wall of gray rock. Their dun-colored slopes were dotted with dark spots that could only be plants.
Ruha pointed at the large peak she had told Kadumi to use as a landmark yesterday. "The Sister of Rains lies at the base of that mountain," she said. "If we ride hard, we shall eat wild figs and drink spring water tonight."
"Then why are we standing around?" Lander asked, untethering his camel.
The trio rode along the base of the mountains, fighting a constant struggle to keep their hungry camels from stopping to devour every stray saltbush the small company came across. Throughout the morning, Lander checked their backtrail for the Zhentarim, but by afternoon he no longer bothered. Ruha guessed that the Harper's reason had more to do with the difficulty of spotting pursuers in the rolling terrain than with feeling sure they hadn't been followed, but she did not care. Without Lander twisting about in his saddle or stopping the caravan to search the horizon, they made better time.
When they reached a large wadi leading down from the mountains, Ruha directed the small company to turn up the sandy gulch. Their camels, sensing that the journey was near an end, moved with renewed vigor. Once, a hare bolted across the ravine. Kadumi leaped off his camel to follow the animal and pull it from its sandy burrow, but that was the only time they stopped.
Just before dusk, the tinkle of running water began to echo down the wadi. The camels started snorting and roaring in excitement, and it was all the three riders could do to keep their mounts from galloping. The walls of the gulch grew steeper and became cliffs, and a carpet of lush grass soon blanketed the sandy floor.
The trio came to a stone wall stretching clear across the canyon and standing fifteen feet high. There was an ancient gate of rusty iron in the center of the rampart, but it would do little to keep anyone from crossing the barrier now. Several huge breaches gapped the wall, apparently caused by the sporadic floods that flashed down the canyon. On the southern wall of the wadi, a dozen tiny springs spilled out of the rocks, then cascaded down the cliff.
"The Sister of Rains," Ruha said, pointing at the tiny waterfalls.
The widow led the way through the closest breach. Behind the wall, the springs collected in several small pools at the base of the cliffs, giving life to dozens of fig trees and a grove of other fruit-bearing plants. Ruha was surprised at how wild the thicket had grown since she had left, for she and Qoha'dar had worked hard to tend the garden and keep it orderly.
On the other side of the wadi, thirty feet above the floor of the gulch, lay a wide ledge where an ancient tower had once stood. Most of its stones were scattered and half-buried in sands below the ledge, but the foundation was still intact.
The widow could not stop a tear from coming to her eye. As a young girl, the oasis had been a cage to her, a cage into which she had been cast because of the shame and trouble her visions had brought down on her father's head. Now, her mind was flooded with memories of tending the fruit trees with Qoha'dar, of ignoring her guardian's stern warnings and exploring the tower ruins, of sneaking down to spy upon the rare khowwan that had worked its way along the edge of the Shoal of Thirst to graze at the Sister of Rains. With the Zhentarim invading Anauroch and slaughtering whole tribes, even the hot, dreary work of herding goats and making cheese seemed a peaceful and cherished memory.
"Is something wrong?" asked Kadumi, jarring Ruha out of her reverie.
She shook her head. "No. I was just thinking that this is one oasis I hope the Zhentarim never visit."
"The only way to ensure that is to help the Bedine drive them from the desert," Lander said. "For that, we need the spellbook. Where is it?"
"The spellbook has been safe for years," Kadumi said, guiding his mount toward the ponds. "First, we must drink!"
Both Ruha and Lander laughed, then let their camels follow Kadumi's. The thirsty beasts pushed their way through the hedge of vegetation surrounding the closest pond and lowered their heads to drink, ignoring their riders completely. The trio had to slip from the backs of standing mounts.
Ruha and her companions went to the next pool to quench their own thirst. Lander and Kadumi simply stuck their faces in the cool pond and sucked water into their mouths, imitating their eager camels. Despite a burning wish to do the same, modesty forced Ruha to fill an empty waterskin and drink from it.
Once the trio had finished drinking, Kadumi assigned himself the task of setting up the night's camp. Ruha and Lander went to the collapsed tower, then climbed down into its foundation and spent an hour digging sand out of one corner. By the time they reached the floor, night had fallen.
Lander went to the camp and started a torch from the fire Kadumi had built. When he returned, Ruha took the torch and pointed to a trap door of carefully fitted stone. "Pull that up."
Lander did as asked, then Ruha used the torch to peer down into a dark pit. It was filled with spider webs and looked as though it hadn't been disturbed in years.
"I'll go," the Harper volunteered.
Using the torch to clean the spider webs away from the entrance, Ruha said, "Fine with me. You'll find a short corridor. If you turn left, it runs down the gulch. If you turn right, it ends in at an old vault. Inside the vault, you'll find a sealed box of sun-fired clay. That's what we want."
The Harper nodded, lowering himself into the cramped pit. Ruha passed him the torch, and he disappeared down the tunnel. She heard him curse once, then everything was quiet for several minutes.
Ruha began to worry that something had happened to the Harper, but, just as she was about to call to Kadumi from camp to bring her another torch, Lander returned. In one hand he carried the torch and in the other the spellbook.
"What took so long?" she asked.
"Bats." He passed her the box, then threw the torch back down the corridor. "They were all over."
As Lander climbed out of the pit, Ruha smashed the clay box. The spellbook remained inside. They returned to the camp, and the widow immediately inspected it in the firelight, Her old teacher's words rang in her memory as she turned each page. Ruha almost felt as though she were holding Qoha'dar herself in her hands.
At last, Lander asked, "Any damage?"
Ruha closed the book and hugged it to her chest. "No. Every page is the same as the day I sealed it away."
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"Let's hope that's for the best," Kadumi said, casting an uneasy glance at the thick tome. "Right now, though, we should eat." He set a plate of figs and roasted hare in front of Ruha, then another before Lander.
"A banquet!" the widow exclaimed. She took the plate and turned her back toward her companions so she could remove her veil and eat.
The trio ate in appreciative silence, then cleaned their hands with sand, rinsed in the oasis pools, and tethered the camels for the night. They drank their fill of cool spring water and, making his usual cautionary statement about Zhentarim pursuers, Lander assigned watches, taking the first for himself. Ruha pulled her jellaba over her shoulders, laid down with her back to the fire, and closed her eyes.
Sometime much later, Ruha woke, still groggy and confused. The night was quite chilly and still, but something poked her repeatedly in the back. She rolled over, asking, "Is it my turn already?"
"Shhhh!" Kadumi warned.
He was kneeling next to her with his jambiya drawn and staring in Lander's direction. The youth's jaw was set in grim determination and his eyes were narrowed menacingly.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
"I heard something near Lander!"
Ruha rubbed her eyes and looked toward the Harper, who was still sleeping with his back to the fire. The light of the moon was shining over the entire camp, and Ruha could not see even a shadow within fifty feet. The image of the attack on Lander's back flashed through her sleepy mind, and she found herself wondering if Kadumi had crossed the Shoal of Thirst to murder the Harper and avenge some imagined trespass against his family's honor.
She grabbed the boy's arm. "You're lying."
Kadumi looked away from Lander and frowned. "Why would I do that?"
Before she could respond, the boy tore his arm free of her grasp and sprang toward the Harper.
"Lander!" she screamed, reaching for her own jambiya.
The youth reached the Harper an instant later, then slashed wildly over his prone form. A saber flashed out of midair, slicing into Kadumi's collarbone at the neckline.
The boy did not even scream. His hand went slack, and his jambiya tumbled to the ground. A dark silhouette appeared on Lander's far side, lifting its foot to kick Kadumi's lifeless body off the blade.
In the same moment, apparently waking from a sound sleep, Lander twisted onto his back and slammed his fist into the figure's lower abdomen. The man doubled up, then stumbled backward, groaning in pain.
Ruha leaped over Lander and was on the assassin in an instant. He lifted his blade to defend himself, but the witch slashed at the hand holding the saber. The man screamed again and dropped his weapon. With her free hand, she grabbed the wounded arm and used it to pull the man toward her, at the same time kneeing him in the midsection. He merely gurgled in pain and threw himself at Ruha.
The widow lifted her jambiya to meet his lunge. As the assassin fell on top of her, she turned the cutting edge up. As if gutting a gazelle, she ran the blade the length of the man's belly. He went limp, then Ruha hit the ground, and he landed on top of her.
The widow slipped from beneath the eviscerated man. Leaving him to die in agony, she turned to where Kadumi had fallen. Lander was already there, cradling the boy in his lap. Kadumi's eyes were closed and there was a terrible gash across his sternum. Ruha did not need to ask to know the boy was dead, and she felt sick that the last thing he had heard from her lips was a false accusation.
"Where did he come from?" she asked, motioning at the assassin.
"Magic," Lander replied. "Probably the same ring that made Bhadla invisible when he was spying on Sa'ar and Utaiba's council."
Ruha then glanced around their little camp. "What if there are more of them?"
Lander shook his head. "No. He was the only one to make it across the Shoal of Thirst. If there were any more, they would have attacked with him."
The widow stared at the boy for a long time, then dropped her dagger and fell to her knees at the Harper's side. Lander laid Kadumi's body gently aside and touched Ruha's shoulders. "I'm sorry-"
Ruha spun and buried her face on Lander's chest, then began weeping in uncontrollable waves. "Before he died, I called him a liar," she sobbed.
Lander held her more tightly, but said nothing.
"When Kadumi drew his jambiya, I couldn't see the assassin. I thought my vision was coming true," she said. "I thought he was attacking you."
"You were sleepy. It was a natural mistake."
The widow pushed away from Lander and looked at the ground shamefully. "No. I was wrong to think that. Kadumi intended you no harm."
Lander reached out and gathered her back into his arms. "Don't blame yourself," he whispered. "The boy shouldn't be dead at all. I knew we were being followed, and I should have foreseen that the Zhentarim would use magic."
"But we didn't believe you," Ruha objected, looking up at the Harper's face.
"Which is why I should have been even more careful." A cloud of self-reproach fell over Lander's face, and he remained silent for several moments. Finally he shook his head sadly and returned Ruha's gaze. "We can't bring Kadumi back. The only thing we can do now is make sure he did not die in vain."
Ruha nodded, realizing that the youth's death had affected her in a way that the slaughter of the Qahtan and the Mtair Dhafir had not. Suddenly nothing seemed more important to her than stopping the Zhentarim. "Tomorrow, we'll wash and bury Kadumi," she said. "Then we'll take Qoha'dar's spellbook to Elah'zad. Yhekal will pay for what he's done."
"Yes, but tonight you must rest," Lander said, gently urging Ruha to lie down. "If we're to succeed, we have a hard ride ahead."
"Yes, we must save our strength," Ruha agreed. She stretched out on the ground with her shoulder pressed against Lander's strong thigh. "Tonight, there is no need to keep a watch," she said, pulling the Harper down next to her. "We may as well rest comfortably."
Fourteen
Lander and Ruha crested the last of a seemingly endless chain of thousand-foot knolls. The Harper did not need to ask to know they had reached Elah'zad. The hill sloped down to a small basin encircled by grayish ridges similar to the one upon which they sat. Over a hundred small springs opened on the hillsides and trickled down the gentle slopes. Crimson-leafed shrubs with blue stems and twiggy trees with copper and silver sprigs bordered each stream. From the ridge, the vividly colored shrubs resembled magic fires and the metallic-hued trees looked like billows of enchanted smoke.
The colorful bands of vegetation were spread over the basin like an immense spider web. Each strand followed a life-giving stream down the hill to a sapphire nucleus of water, a lake covering fully a square mile of the bottom of the basin. In the center of the lake sat a small, grassy island. On the island stood an alabaster palace built in the shape of a three-quarters moon.
Along a band of lush grass girding the lake, fifteen khowwans had pitched their tents in tribal clusters. Men were gathered in small groups in the areas between the tribes, but the women and children remained steadfastly within their own camps. Lander saw no sign of any camels.
"It's magnificent!" Lander gasped.
"Elah'zad was the home of the moon goddess," Ruha explained, forcing her camel to kneel. "But At'ar drove her away and made it a prison for the Mother of the Waters."
"Why?" the Harper asked.
Ruha gave Lander an alluring, mocking glance. "The usual reason women quarrel. At'ar was jealous of Eldath's beauty."
Lander was surprised to hear Ruha use a familiar name for the goddess of the singing waters. "Eldath is free," he objected. "She is worshiped all over Faerun."
The widow looked over her shoulder. In the distance, just beyond the farthest set of hills, the white salts of the Shoals of Thirst still gleamed in the sun. "Perhaps Eldath is free in Sembia," she said, "but in Anauroch, she is At'ar's prisoner."
The young widow slipped off her camel, then motioned for Lander to do the same.
They led their mounts dow
n the hill as far as the first spring. Ruha carefully tethered the beasts to a smoke-twigged tree, well out of reach of the water. "Camels are not allowed to drink of the sacred waters," she explained. "Some boys are coming to take them to the camel well."
Lander raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"
"By now the sentries have relayed word of our arrival to Sa'ar and Utaiba. One of them will send some boys from his tribe to tend our camels."
"That makes sense," the Sembian replied. He had given no thought to the sentries surely posted around the oasis, for he had not heard them sound any alarm. "Why didn't we hear any amarats?"
"I don't know, and it worries me. But rest assured that we have been seen."
"Should we take their silence as a warning?" he asked. "Could Sa'ar and Utaiba have changed their minds and be planning some sort of an ambush?"
The widow shook her head. "Most Bedine keep their word," she said, pulling the djebiras containing Qoha'dar's spellbook off her mount's back. "Still, there are many other sheikhs down there, and they were not a party to our agreement."
Lander scowled, his stomach already growing knotted at the prospect of being turned away after his difficult journey.
When the Harper did not move toward the camps, Ruha said, "Let's go. We are not going to stop the Zhentarim and kill Yhekal by standing around up here."
She started down the hill, leaving the camels roaring in protest at not being allowed to drink. As she passed Lander's mount, it even tried to nip at her. The Harper could sympathize with the beasts' fury. The animals had not had any water since leaving the Sister of Rains three days ago.
On the morning following the assassin's attack, Lander had taken the camels to drink from the springs while Ruha washed Kadumi's body. After the corpse was prepared for its journey, the pair had buried it near the wall, covering the grave with rocks to prevent scavengers from digging it up. They had bothered with no such courtesy for the Zhentarim. Instead, Lander had taken the man's magic ring, then dragged his body away from the oasis and left it in the open for the vultures.