Troy Denning - The Summoning

"No wine, Zharilee." Keya could not keep the excitement from her voice. "I've something to report." The Gold elf arched her brow. "You're sure?"

"Crawling down the face of Snagglefang," she said, trying to remember the elements of a good report: what doing what, where, when, how many. "A group of invisibles. Maybe a dozen, side-by-side. Just passing the crag hawk's nest." "Crawling, you say? Why would they crawl?"

Keya looked back to the cliff, where the invisibles continued to descend in crooked row. "It might be a battle line."

Zharilee frowned doubtfully. "Phaerimm don't need to crawl. Why wouldn't they just float…" She let the sentence trail off and grew more serious. "I'll send word to Cloudtop. Keep watching."

The image faded, leaving Keya to her invisibles. They were descending rapidly, three of the twelve bunched together. She waved a different wand. The cliff drew close enough to see individual crags and crevices, but the wands would not work together and the twinkles were no longer visible. She went back to the first. The invisibles reached the base of the cliff and started down the jumbled talus boulders beneath. Several of the other twinkles gathered around the close-bunched trio, helping them over the rough terrain. Was the trio carrying something? No-more likely, they were two carrying a third. A pair of warriors carrying a wounded comrade.

Any lingering doubts about their identity vanished. Even had it been phaerimm crawling down the cliff, they would not be carrying wounded. From what she had seen of the thorn-backs, they did not carry their wounded anywhere-least of all into an attack. The invisibles had to be elves-or elf-friends-trying to reach Evereska.

Keya reported her observations to Zharilee, then switched wands and examined the surrounding mountainside. As she had feared, there were five phaerimm and a dozen times that many beholders and illithids scurrying through the denuded forest to intercept the band. She reported that as well.

Zharilee said she was passing the information to Cloudtop Tower, and that she was sorry, but Keya would have to watch what followed. Keya replied that watching was the least she could do. Seeing that there was no longer a danger of giving the party away, she returned to the roof for a better view. Though she would appear only a speck to the invisibles even if they knew where to look for her, she pointed toward the ambush.

The warning proved unnecessary. The invisibles paused at the bottom of the talus, then one sprayed the wood ahead with a stream of silver fire so brilliant it spotted Keya's vision from more than a thousand paces away. The five phaerimm reeled away, pouring columns of smoke into the air and slapping at their burning bodies with all four hands, and the invisibles followed the assault with a volley of enchanted arrows. As each of the shafts struck their targets, they exploded in golden flashes of magic and filled the wood with blazing red smoke.

When Keya used her wand to report this development, the too-gaunt face of Kiinyon Colbathin appeared next to Zharilee.

"This silver fire-who cast it?" he demanded. "Was it a human?"

After losing the entire tomb guard in the initial battles with the phaerimm, Kiinyon had apologized to all of Evereska and tried to resign. Lord Duirsar had refused the resignation and placed him in charge of the vale's defenses, saying that Evereska had need both of his experience and the wisdom he had earned by it. "1 can't see," Keya reported. "The smoke is too thick." "Well look, damn it!"

Keya looked, but, as she said, the smoke was impervious to sight and magic-at least any magic she had been given. All she could see was the curtain of smoke billowing across the hill, a handful of illithids scrambling up into the talus- and it occurred to her what she did not see. The invisibles had attacked, so now they should be visible-but she still couldn't see them, not with any of her wands. Realizing how well the small band had planned its attack, Keya swept her gaze down the mountainside.

She found them halfway down the Vine Vale, staggering out of a small black door in the middle of an arbor-covered terrace. The first was a bearded human in scorched robes, the hair on his bare chest singed away around a grotesque brown scar. The second was a Gold elf in the elaborate armor of an Evereskan noble, as were the third, fourth, and all the others that followed. "It's the Swords!" Keya cried. "They're back!" "The Swords?" gasped Kiinyon. "Of Evereska?"

"Well, some-a few" No sooner had Keya said this than she thought of her father and began to search the faces in the party. "1 see Lord Dureth, and Janispar Orthorion, and a black-bearded human."

"That human, could it be Khelben Arunsun?" This time it was Lord Duirsar himself asking. "And tell us how you can see them, damn it! The tower mages can't find them in that wretched smoke."

"I'm sorry, milord-they're down in the Vine Vale, in the ThistleHoney Vineyard," said Keya. "And I don't know Khelben Arunsun, but the human is carrying a black… by the golden rose, no!" "What?" demanded Lord Duirsar. " 'No,' what?"

Keya did not answer, for the last two elves emerging from the black door held a litter bearing the shrouded figure of a dead body She could not see who lay beneath the shroud, but there was no mistaking the acid-pitted helmet lashed across the figure's chest. A simple basinet of silvery mithral steel, it was by far the plainest of any worn by the Noble Blades. It belonged to Aubric Nihmedu. "Watcher!" roared Kiinyon. "Answer Lord Duirsar!"

"I–I apologize, milords," said Keya. "The human has a black beard and black staff, and he shows sign of a grave injury More than that, I cannot tell you of him."

"And why did you cry out?" prompted Zharilee. "Lord Duirsar asked about that as well."

"I saw…" Keya paused to clear the catch in her throat and saw a patrol of elves rushing past the Swords to meet two phaerimm that had teleported in to attack the battered company from behind. "Excuse me, but if you want to see Khelben Arunsun alive, you must send some war mages to help."

Before she had finished the sentence, a circle of high mages appeared between the fleeing elves and their would-be attackers. With a sweep of her hand, the center erected a wall of golden radiance and sent it rolling toward the enemy. The phaerimm countered by sending a cone of cold blasting through the wall to strike down one of the mages, then it teleported away. The surviving Swords were swept up by the patrol and hurried toward the protection of the mythal. So went the battles for Evereska, swift and deadly and never-ending.

"We'll see to the Swords, Keya." Now that things appeared to be under control, Lord Duirsar's voice was gentler. 'Tell us what you saw." "Lord Nihmedu…" She stopped to choke back a sob, then realized that her brother was now Lord Nihmedu and began to wonder what had become of him, and she could not stop the tears. "I'm sorry to report the Swords' blademajor has fallen." "Your father?" Zharilee gasped. Keya nodded and looked away from the wand-window.

"I'm sorry, Keya. He was a good friend and a loyal Evereskan," said Lord Duirsar. His voice grew softer, and he spoke to Kiinyon Colbathin. "Under the circumstances, Vale Marshall, I wonder if the Long Watcher might be excused." "Of course," said Kiinyon. "Feel free to retire, Watcher."

"Thank you, milord." Keya wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to the wand-window. "Do you have someone to relieve me, Zharilee?"

The Gold elf hesitated. "We're well-covered in other posts."

"But none of the other posts reported the Swords' return?" Keya asked.

Zharilee shook her head. "There are a couple that should have seen it, but no."

"Then I'll stay." Keya turned back toward the High Vale. "The Long Watch has its duty, too."