Bruce Cordell - Key of Stars

With a deviousness born of long centuries, she had spun a rumor built to snare would-be heroes, and whispered it into the world. The rumor painted the tale of a monstrous evil that required constant watching in a lonely waste, lest some sliver of it escape and infect Faerun.

The best lies wrap themselves in truth like a second skin. Taal had numbered among those who heard the lies, and believed them. He and the others who heard and believed gathered together and followed the threads, and indeed, discovered actual aberrant cults, ghastly items that fostered nightmares, and eventually a mind flayer cyst, which proved great evil was afoot. From there, Taal and his company of heroes found paths into the Feywild and beyond.

They found Malyanna waiting. In aspect she seemed a queen, wise and dangerous, yet beautiful too. She described the Watch on Forever’s Edge, the void that lay beyond, and the sacrifice all who joined the Watch must endure. She said she was in need of an ally, to help her in her duties.

Malyanna asked which one among Taal’s company would join her, and serve as castellan of the Spire of Winter’s Peace.

Of all his company who quested through the meandering, dangerous route to appear on the doorstep of Winter’s Peace, Taal had proved the most capable.

He was the one given the reward. His prize was to become a watcher himself, to learn the lore of the void and how to fight what seeped from it, and the opportunity to pledge himself to reality’s defense.

His friends, perhaps jealous, or maybe relieved to be able to remain carefree adventurers and righters of lesser wrongs, had wished him well. They returned to the world, leaving Taal to take up his new duties and instruction.

How foolish, how intemperate he’d been to voice the pledge. He’d wondered, even as he spoke the words of binding, why the language seemed so light on defense of the helpless and heavy on the unquestioning service he would provide to the eladrin noble.

But Taal was a man of his word, and with just a few short breaths, he had foresworn himself, believing he was on his way to a glorious career as a warden-in-training.

In that assessment, he’d been appallingly, catastrophically wrong.

Taal blinked away the recollection. He picked up the silver pin and rubbed it between his fingers. His totem cat growled. It recognized the threat to Taal’s equanimity that the symbol of office represented.

Taal replaced the pin on the desk, sat, and drafted instructions that would see to the disposition of Winter’s Peace in his absence. The spire could run itself for long periods, assuming nothing happened to break normal routine. But his thoughts skipped away from the boring details of duty rotation and resupply as he scribbled on the parchment.

Despite himself, Taal found he was looking forward to the trip.

The Year of the Secret (1396 DR)

New Sarshell, Impiltur

Japheth paced the guest room. The bottle green rug ate the sound of his footfalls. The wide mirror reflected the back and forth sway of his midnight cloak. He had only to pull the cord by the entrance, and someone from the Marhana mansion staff would soon be knocking respectfully at the door, wondering what he required.

But a meal, no matter how well prepared, or a bath, regardless how hot the water-or any number of other distractions he might ask for-were hollow substitutes for what he really wanted.

He’d worked a true wonder, creating a vessel to house the mind of Anusha’s friend Yeva. Then Neifion had ruined his surprise.

“By the Nine, I wish I had killed that bastard when I had the chance,” muttered Japheth.

He doubted Anusha or Yeva were any less grateful for what he’d accomplished. But he’d imagined the moment he would reintroduce the two friends. The scene hadn’t included a vengeful archfey. He’d hoped his gift would, in its reception, break through the unwelcome formality that had sprung up between him and Anusha after they’d returned to the mansion.

It was unnerving how much Anusha had changed since he’d met her. Or, at least, changed in his perception. She’d been a cipher, the younger half sister of his employer, and of little importance. He could still remember being vaguely aware of her watching him as he’d made his way to talk to Berhoun about some bit of business.

Later, she’d followed him out onto the Sea of Fallen Stars, a stowaway fleeing her brother and the responsibility of her name.

But now, she was the one trying to create a plan. It was Anusha who wouldn’t let him or the rest forget the threat they’d helped create. Anusha, in the absence of leadership from Raidon, Seren, or himself, was taking charge.

She was wonderful.

Should he seek her out? It was getting late …

It wasn’t like him to be so indecisive. Maybe it was because his normal routine was a shambles. He’d managed, despite the thought of it constantly hovering just below his awareness, to avoid taking a single grain of traveler’s dust for several days. Without it as a crutch, maybe an irresolute nature he hadn’t realized he possessed was coming to the fore.

The thought galled him.

“Don’t be such a child,” he said, and left his room.

He walked the hall to its end, where the door to Anusha’s chamber stood closed. A yellow glow spilled from beneath it.

He knocked.

“Yes?” came Anusha’s voice, faint through the wood.

“It’s Japheth.”

A moment of silence, and the door opened.

Lantern light shimmered on Anusha’s skin, and seemed to spark in her eyes. Her hair was mussed, having come partly free of the leather strap holding it in place, as if she’d been lying down. The wild strands enhanced and accented her beauty; he wanted to reach out and carefully unlace the leather strap restraining the rest of her hair.

Her nightdress was green, and her feet were bare. Japheth caught her familiar scent-a delicate musk he’d always presumed must be some sort of perfume, though he didn’t know for sure. He associated the odor only with her.

Suddenly his surety of purpose wavered.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her smile encouraging him.

“I thought we could, I don’t know, talk,” he said. “Take a walk. Read a book together.”

“Seriously?”

He grinned. “Sure.”

One of her eyebrows went up in question.

“You know how to read, don’t you?”

“I’m a fabulous reader,” she said, and looked directly into his eyes.

Japheth’s heart suddenly kicked into a louder tempo. “And I love a good book,” he said.

Anusha stepped back from the door, motioning him to enter.

Her room was warm. Or maybe it was him. He removed his cloak and hung it on the stand.

When he turned, she stepped into his embrace.

The smell of her redoubled, making his head whirl. He felt her arms go around his waist.

“You feel good,” she said.

“I’ve missed you,” Japheth replied.

She looked up at him with her head cocked to one side. “How are you doing?” she asked. “I mean, after Neifion showing up here today?”

The Lord of Bats was the last thing on his mind. But he said, “That old poser? He caught us by surprise is all. Anyway, I’m great, now that I’m here with you.” He winked.

Anusha chuckled. “Good,” she said. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for helping Yeva. It’s amazing. You saved her, you know. Not many could have pulled that off.”

He shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “I’m just glad it worked,” he said.

She pulled back, but kept a light hold on his wrists. He allowed her to lead him to the edge of her bed. Then she sat, crossing her legs beneath her. Her nightdress rode up to just above her knees, showing shapely calves over slim ankles.