"No, but I will inquire after them at once." Quastarte frowned and said, "This puzzle grows less clear with each day. Given the fact that you found the second stone in a secret cache in a tower obviously abandoned for many years, I wonder when the story of the telkiira meets the story of the daemonfey. Do these lorestones date all the way back to the days of Siluvanede, or possibly even Arcorar? Or are they a more recent development?"
"I suspect I'll know when I find the third stone," Araevin replied with a shrug.
"I wonder if it is wise to seek it out? Perhaps it would be better to leave it where it lies."
"Nothing hidden can remain so forever. The third stone will be found, so I might as well be the one to find it." Araevin swept the two lorestones from the table and replaced them in his pouch. "I don't suppose you learned anything more about these?"
"Nothing in Philaerin's journals or notes so much as hints at such a telkiira".
"That does not surprise me. Thank you for your help, Loremaster," Araevin said.
"It was nothing. Besides, Lord Miritar may have need of what we have learned about the daemonfey."
Araevin paused, then asked, "Why is that?"
"Knowing the history of the Dlardrageths may suggest a way to defeat them, of course." Quastarte looked at Araevin, and sudden comprehension dawned in his eyes. "You don't know!" he gasped.
"Don't know what?" Araevin said.
"An army of the daemonfey has arisen in the Delimbiyr
Vale, and is marching against both Evereska and the High Forest."
"What did you say?"
"Lord Miritar is gathering a host to fight them in Faerun. Both the wood elves and the Evereskans requested Ever meet's help. The council felt that it would be unwise to risk more of Evermeet's soldiers and mages in a campaign in Faerun, not after the terrible losses in Nimesin's war and our expedition against the phaerimm, but Lord Miritar felt differently. He resigned from the council and called for volunteers to accompany him in a crusade against this new enemy."
"I had no idea!" Araevin said. "Where is he now?"
"Still in Elion, though I have heard they will march soon."
"In that case, Ilsevele and I must leave at once," Araevin said as he walked Quastarte to the door. "If you learn anything important, do not hesitate to perform a sending for me. I will return if I can. Sweet water and light laughter until we meet again, Quastarte!"
"And to you, my friend," the older elf replied.
He watched as Araevin hurried away.
CHAPTER 12
23 Ches, the Year of Lightning Storms
I was wondering where all the elves were," Maresa said. "Apparently, they're here."
The genasi reined in her horse on the broad track that wound past the gates of Seamist down to the city of Elion below.
Araevin, Grayth, and Ilsevele stared alongside her. Beneath the evergreens, on either side of the road, lay the encampments of elf warriors. Proud banners and standards stood by each one, identifying the contingent camped there. Hundreds of elves dressed in hauberks of chain mail or byrnies of ring-sewn leather filled the forest, all engaged in different tasks. Some mended arms and armor, some prepared food, and quite a few seemed to be engaged in striking their simple shelters and collecting their gear into manageable packs. In one meadow nearby a company of nearly two hundred archers practiced their marching and maneuvering.
"By the bow of Shevarash, will you look at that?" Ilsevele murmured.
The small company had left Tower Reilloch within an hour of Araevin's meeting with Quastarte, after Araevin and Ilsevele had gleaned most of the story of the council's debates and Seiveril's call to arms from the loremaster. Even though the evidence was right in front of Araevin's eyes, he still couldn't believe it.
"We leave for two tendays, and Evermeet decides to stand on its head," said Araevin. "What next, I wonder?"
After asking several orderlies and messengers hurrying past about Seiveril's whereabouts, they were directed to a broad hilltop glade a mile above the palace. Whole companies of elves-archers, knights, elite guards, and spearmen-waited in orderly ranks at the edge of the glade. In the center of the clearing stood a trio of weathered old stone markers. Six drummers beat an easy rhythm in the damp air as the companies formed themselves into three columns each and queued up, facing the stone markers. On the first stroke, three elves advanced to the markers, on the second, each of the three touched a stone; on the third stroke, they vanished in a golden sparkle; and on the fourth stroke the waiting columns advanced one step.
"That's astonishing," said Grayth. "They must be moving a whole company through in ten minutes or less. How long can they keep that up?"
"As long as necessary," Araevin said. "The elfgates were designed for the swift movement of armies." He looked at Grayth and Maresa. "Please, do not tell anyone else what you have seen here. This is something we would rather keep to ourselves."
The Lathanderite looked over to Araevin and simply nodded. Maresa narrowed her eyes. "I won't speak of it," she said. "It's your business, and no one else's."
"Look, there is Muirreste," Ilsevele said. "He will know where my father is." She rode over to a small party of officers who stood near the elfgates, supervising the movement of the soldiers. "Lord Muirreste! Is my father anywhere near?"
The knight turned at the sound of her voice and answered, "Lady Ilsevele! And Mage Araevin. This is a surprise. I thought you two were off in Faerun somewhere."
"We returned yesterday," replied Ilsevele before she introduced Grayth and Maresa.
"A pleasure to meet you," Muirreste said politely, bowing, but his face betrayed his concern at finding n'tel-quessir at such a sensitive spot. "Lady Ilsevele, your father already passed the elfgate. He is on the other side overseeing the army's movements, while I am trying to keep some measure of order here."
"Will he return?"
"No, he does not expect to. However, you could certainly go to him, if you wish. If you'll wait until the company there clears the elfgates, you can join him. We've been leaving a few minutes between formations in order to give gating soldiers the opportunity to clear the arrival area."
Ilsevele looked at Araevin and asked, "What do you think?"
"Seiveril will want to know what we found in the Forest of Wyrms. And I promised Quastarte I would carry his tale of the daemonfey to him, too. We should find your father at once."
"I agree," said Ilsevele. She glanced back to Muirreste. "Thank you, Elvath. We will take advantage of your generous offer. Where exactly will we find ourselves on the other side of the gate?"
Muirreste looked at Grayth and Maresa, and said in Elvish, "It might be better not to say. The People of the LastHome are even more careful in guarding their secrets from n'tel-quessir than we are."
"Grayth and Maresa have my trust, Elvath, and through me my father's confidence as well. They have fought valiantly and endured great danger already in our cause."
"Then I will not bar their passage, though Lord Seiveril may have to answer for them in Evereska. I hope your trust is well placed." He switched back to Common. "Fall in at the end of the company moving through now. When your turn comes, simply touch the stone marker. The magic of the gate will do the rest."
The four companions dismounted and led their horses to the back end of the archer company passing through the gate-a disorderly gang of wood elves, who laughed with delight when they saw a human and a planetouched following their column.
Ilsevele said to Grayth and Maresa, "I hope you will forgive us for leaving Evermeet so quickly. I would have liked the opportunity to show you more of the island."
Til carry it with me in my heart," the cleric said with a smile. "I am honored to have seen it even for a day."
Their turn came a few minutes later, as the last of the wood elves trotted through the gate. Araevin waited while Ilsevele, Grayth, and Maresa walked their horses up to the markers and touched the stones, disappearing in a sparkle of golden light, and he did the same.
The hilltop misted away from him. There was a moment of darkness and a strange, directionless sense of motion in the center of his body, and Araevin found himself standing in a dark, rainy plaza or square in an elven city. Soft lanternlight glowed around him, flickering as the wind shifted, and white stone towers rose up between towering shadowtops and cedars.
Of course, he thought. We moved several thousand miles to the east, so naturally we moved later in the day.
An elf soldier dressed in a long mail shirt took Araevin by the arm and guided him away from the arrival point. The mage noticed that a pair of Evereskan drummers kept the time of the drummers in the Evermeet glade. Already the wood elves were marching away down a broad thoroughfare, still laughing and singing with high spirits. Araevin led his horse away and joined Ilsevele and the others off to one side.
"Where will we find Seiveril Miritar?" Ilsevele asked one of the elves nearby.
"Out in the Meadow, my lady," the elf replied. "Follow the company ahead of you, they're being led there now. But leave your horses here. We'll have to take them down by another way."
They relinquished their reins, and hurried after the wood elves through the forested streets of the city. Evereska was a striking place of marvelous buildings, deep groves, and steep hilltops. Lanterns glowed above the streets, each haloed by the falling drizzle. But Araevin was startled to see signs of war amid the city's towers and trees: a shadowtop scorched badly on one side by fire, a tower with a great gouge in its side from some spell or another, windows of theurglass boarded up with simple wooden shutters.
They fought the phaerimm in the streets of the city, he reminded himself. It was only two years ago.
They reached a park overlooking the city's edge. Evereska sat atop sheer cliffs nearly a thousand feet in height, its hills and forests crowning the stark stone of its great pedestal. Below lay the Meadow, a ring of grassy open land at the foot of the cliffs, and circling that the Vine Vale, a valley of terraced fields, vineyards, and orchards surrounding the city. At one side of the park, quite near the edge, a golden circle glowed on the ground. One by one the wood elves walked into it and vanished.
"Where are we going now?" Grayth asked.
"We're descending to the valley floor outside the city," Araevin explained. They waited their turn, passed through behind the wood elves, and stepped out of a shallow niche in the cliffside, walking out into the broad, open Meadow.
Columns of elf soldiers waited here, organizing themselves before marching off. Araevin spotted Seiveril at once. He stood amid a knot of other elves, dressed in his gilded armor of mithral plate, watching as the elves who had already passed the gate and the cliff marched off into the darkness. The sight of Seiveril attired in battle-armor startled Araevin. With an abrupt and chilling clarity he realized that all the martial hurry they'd wandered through for the past hour had a purpose. The great host gathering in Evereska's green Meadow had come to fight, and perhaps die, in battle against the enemies of the People.
How could I have forgotten that for an instant? Araevin wondered.
"Father!" Ilsevele called.
She hurried over to embrace Seiveril, while Araevin and his friends followed.
Seiveril turned in surprise, but returned his daughter's embrace, saying, "Ilsevele! What are you doing here?"
"We came to find you, but it occurs to me that I might ask you the same question," Ilsevele replied. She stepped back and looked around at the marching soldiers. A long, snaking line of elves carrying their arms and armor were ascending the outer wall of the Vine Vale, following a trail that switchbacked up toward the higher hills surrounding Evereska and its valley. "What is going on?"
"It is a long story, but… I could not stand by and allow our people to do nothing to aid the Evereskans. If I had not done something, no one would have, and I believe with all my heart that this needs doing," Seiveril said. He looked over to the officers standing nearby. "Lord Gaerth, you know where these troops are supposed to go. Will you take over for me for a time? I need to speak with my daughter. Make sure they know to remain vigilant, our foes might attempt to pass our lead companies and strike at us here."
Vesilde Gaerth, resplendent in his golden plate armor, touched his fingertips to his visor and replied, "Of course, Lord Seiveril."
Seiveril took one last look at the mustering elves then took Ilsevele's arm, leading her to a nearby tent.
"Come, both of you, and your friends as well. I suspect we have some news to exchange. Starbrow, why don't you join us, too?"
One of the elves who had been standing with Seiveril detached himself and followed. He was a tall and strongly built moon elf, his red-brown hair pulled back into a long braid behind his back. He wore a lacquered breastplate with a large kite-shaped shield slung over his back. Araevin didn't recognize him, but then again, in the last hour he'd seen hundreds of elves he didn't know.
They filed into the pavilion Seiveril indicated, and found simple but comfortable furnishings, including light folding stools and a portable table with several maps laid out across its surface. A tray of fruit and bread filled one end of the table, along with ewers of cold water and wine.
"I wish I could claim credit for the hospitality, but I can't," said Seiveril. "Thilesin and her assistants decided to provide me with a valet so that I could devote all my attention to the challenges ahead, instead of fretting about where to rest and when to eat. Please, be seated."
"Father," said Ilsevele, "what are you doing here? Why didn't the queen send the army? Why did she refuse to help?"
"As I said, it is a long story, and it is a story that may not be for everyone to hear. I will only say that the queen has duties and responsibilities that constrain her freedom of action, and that this was the only way for those of us on Evermeet to send any real help to the People in Faerun." Seiveril looked over at Grayth and Maresa. "You have neglected to introduce me to your guests, Ilsevele."
Ilsevele frowned, noting the change in subject, but she did not protest. Instead she introduced Grayth and Maresa, and in turn Seiveril introduced the moon elf called Starbrow. Araevin took the fellow's hand wondering who he was again, and his eyes fell to the sword hilt at the moon elf's hip.
"You are wearing Keryvian!" he gasped in surprise.
"Yes," Starbrow said. He offered a crooked smile. "Seiveril loaned it to me. I have some experience in fighting demons, and he thought I could make good use of the sword."
"I don't believe I have ever heard of you," Araevin said. "Where are you from?"
Starbrow glanced at Seiveril, then back to Araevin, and said, "Cormanthyr. Though I have been away from my homeland for a long time."
Seiveril poured himself a cup of water from the ewer on the table.
"Well, Ilsevele," he said, "you can see what has been occupying my time since we parted. Where have you been? Araevin, did you learn anything more about the attack on Reilloch?"
"We've spent the last two tendays in Faerun," Ilsevele said. She looked at Starbrow, and decided that the moon elf obviously enjoyed some special confidence with her father. "We learned the hard way that the daemonfey are very interested in the lorestones. We found… no, Araevin should tell the rest. The tale is his."
The company gathered in Seiveril's tent turned their eyes on Araevin. He gave Ilsevele a pained look, but stood and faced the others.
"We followed the first telkiira's directions to a second telkiira, lost in an abandoned tower in the Forest of Wyrms…" Araevin began.
He went on to relate the course of their adventure along the Sword Coast, from their arrival in the Ardeep, to their meeting with Grayth and Maresa, their journey through the Trollbark to the Forest of Wyrms, and the fierce battle against the daemonfey at the ancient tower. Then he described what he'd discovered when he opened the second loregem, and what Quastarte and his fellow mages had divined of their secret enemy.
"So, we don't know exactly why the daemonfey want these telkiira. But they must be important to th
e Dlardrageths, if they are pursuing them at the same time they choose to launch a war against the High Forest and Evereska together."
"I've heard of the Dlardrageths before," Starbrow said to Seiveril. "Their old tower used to lie abandoned near the outskirts of Myth Drannor. I never knew the story behind it, though."
"Where is the daemonfey army now?" Grayth asked Seiveril.
"They are near the top of the Sentinel Pass, the northwestern approach to the city, about ten miles from Evereska's walls."
"What are you up against, and what do you have to stop them with?" the cleric asked.
"We face an army of perhaps fifteen hundred fey'ri, five hundred demons of various sorts, and several thousand orcs, ogres, and other such creatures," Seiveril replied. "Against that stands Evereska's army, roughly two thousand strong, plus our own expedition, which will number close to six thousand by tomorrow."
"They have that many demons?" Grayth asked in surprise. "How did they do that, I wonder?"
Araevin rubbed his jaw, thinking. His human friend had touched on something important, he was sure of it. Demons were not native to Faerun. They could only be summoned from their foul hells for a very short time by battle-conjurations, or sometimes bound to longer service with difficult and expensive rites. If the daemonfey army had so many demons and yugoloths among their numbers, then they were clearly not using short-lived summonings or difficult binding rituals to enslave their fiendish allies.
"They must control a gate of some kind," he said. "The demons are serving of their own free will."
"Evereska's scouts have reported the presence of demons in this army for most of its approach," Seiveril said. "So, the gate must be located somewhere near the place where the daemonfey legion and their orc allies began their march. That would be somewhere in the upper De-limbiyr Vale. Hellgate Keep, perhaps?"
"Presumably, there must be some constraint on how rapidly the demons can enter the world through the gate," Grayth said. "Otherwise all the North would be overrun by hellspawn."
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