Mel Odom - The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

The weapon flipped exactly three times. True to the young ranger's word, the hatchet was expertly weighted for throwing. On the final revolution, the axe blade came around hard and bisected the silver coin. Partially held by whatever was used to hold the coin in place, the halves dropped to either side.

In an eye blink, Cordyan threw the darts. No one knew they were there until they embedded in the tree trunk. Their feathers jutted from the wood, and the leaf-shaped blades caught the two coin pieces before they could drop to the ground.

Stunned silence followed the display of accuracy.

Cordyan had no doubt that the rangers at the forgathering would talk afterwards. She crossed the twenty feet, took out her darts, then tugged the hatchet free and returned it to the young ranger she had borrowed it from.

Stopping in front of Rasnip, she said calmly, "There was some mention of prize money."

Rasnip thrust out a hand. A woman dropped a bulging leather coin purse into it. Quietly, he surrendered it to Cordyan. "What was your name again?"

"Cordyan Tsald," she replied as she took the purse. "Junior Civilar Tsald, of the Waterdeep Watch. And I'm here on business to see Baylee Arnvold. Tell him that when you see him." She turned and walked away, leaving a crowd of staring rangers and assembled animals behind.

A tall, thin man with a short, clipped, graying beard fell into step beside her. He kept his hands clasped behind his back. He wore robes and a pointed skullcap that marked him as a wizard before he worked one spell. "Was that really necessary?" he asked in a dry voice.

"Not if you've found Baylee Arnvold," Cordyan answered.

"I haven't."

Cordyan watched the movements of the rangers around them, reading the patterns from long years of practice. "They know who we are."

"Yes." Calebaan Lahjir nodded. He was a watch wizard assigned by Closl to Cordyan's unit. As such, they shared a joint command over the watch team, which irked Cordyan.

"They let us in," the watch lieutenant said, "so they could watch us."

"Precisely." Calebaan smiled slightly. "When you look at it in the right fashion, you can see the humor of the situation."

Cordyan cut her eyes toward the wizard. They'd worked together off and on for years. When she had worked some of her first investigations in Waterdeep that had involved wizardry, Calebaan had tutored her and given her time that he hadn't had to. "They're hiding him."

"Baylee is one of their own."

"So I thought I'd let them know we knew what was going on as well." Cordyan stopped at a table burgeoning with food. "The fact of the matter is that we can't just take Baylee from them." She worked to fill a clay plate with foodstuffs, finding herself politely aided by the rangers helping serve out. "All we can do is make ourselves as interesting to Baylee as we can."

"I see. You have always had a direct way about you, Cordyan, that I only sometimes admire." The wizard surveyed the table, finally settling on a few squares of apple nut crunch.

Cordyan signaled to the rest of her troops, having them stand down. They could watch over each other and join in the feast. All fourteen men and women signaled back. The watch lieutenant couldn't see them all, but the signals were relayed. By the time she had two cups of wine for herself and Calebaan, she had all the numbers.

"How much do you know about Baylee Arnvold?" she asked the wizard as they found space at an empty table.

"I have heard of him," Calebaan admitted. "Though I must admit, usually only in conjunction with Fannt Golsway, may the Lady keep him close."

Cordyan said a short prayer to Mystra, asking her to bless the food and her quest. At the end, she touched the Harper pin hidden by her tunic. Lord Piergeiron and the Watch of Waterdeep weren't the only ones interested in what had happened to Golsway. "Baylee's major weakness is his curiosity."

"So you seek to draw him in." Calebaan looked around in distress.

"Like the moth to the candle."

Krystarn Fellhammer

The drow warrior felt the words in her mind as she sat before her altar to Lloth. The rooms around her were immersed in total darkness, but her drow vision brought all the details out clearly. The smell of incense lingered in the room. "Yes," she replied. The telepathic touch of Folgrim Shallowsoul made her cringe inside.

I have found the ranger, Baylee Arnvold. Shallowsoul's voice sounded, thin, raspy, and cold.

"I am on my way." Krystarn closed her prayers to the Spider Queen, asking only for the strength to see her mission through to the end, begging forgiveness for not being able to offer up the heart of an enemy at this time in sacrifice.

She took up her weapons and her traveling clothes. Shallow-soul would not have called had she not been going somewhere. With all her gear strapped about her, she pulled on her piwafwi over it all. The last tenday had been filled with boredom awaiting Shallowsoul's attempts at finding the ranger, but she'd pursued her efforts at finding Shallowsoul's real hiding place. None of those efforts had met with success.

The rooms were elegantly furnished with furniture she had recovered from what had been the finest houses around Myth Drannor. It was a pocket-sized palace, but she knew it was only a gilded boil inside a corpse.

She warded the door behind her as she stepped through into a hallway filled with ruin Two male drow under her command stood watch over her door. They worked in shifts, making sure she was never alone or unprotected in her rooms.

"Malla," they said in unison, using the drow term for an honored one. The title always made Krystarn smirk.

"Go get the others," she ordered one of them. She couldn't remember his name.

The drow male hurried away. The remaining one fell into step with her, holding his spear butt just clear of the ground so it wouldn't make any noise.

Krystarn followed the hallway to the other end. No lights lit the walls, but she didn't need them. A wall blocked the end of the hallway. She put her hand out against it, then discovered it was still solid. She remained facing the wall, listening to the others of her entourage fall into lines behind her.

She didn't need to look to make sure they were all there. Twenty-two drow males had followed her from Menzoberranzan, their lives pledged to her task, accepting that she had been placed upon her quest by Lloth, Queen of the Demonweb Pits, herself.

The wall rippled before Krystarn, then pulsed like a great mouth about to open.

"Come." Shallowsoul's command filled her mind.

"Wait for me," Krystarn ordered the male drow warriors.

"Yes, Malla," Captain V'nk'itn responded. "We shall stand steady."

Krystarn knew that the male drow wouldn't stand there out of loyalty, but out of fear of her vengeance if they failed. When she had taken them, she had tied their blood to hers; if they fled, she could follow.

She wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the morning star and stepped through the door. Immediately, the rush of cold wind wrapped around her and she went blind and deaf. She felt like a leaf trapped in a treacherous whirlpool in the streams that cut through the Underdark. Yet, at the same time, she maintained her sense of equilibrium.

The darkness cleared like cool fog drifting in from one of the streams leading into Menzoberranzan. Cool air obscured her true Drow vision for a moment.

"Enter." Shallowsoul's physical voice sounded even worse than his mental one.

Krystarn took exactly two steps forward. As always, the room she appeared in was not one she had been in before. Her heart stilled in her chest as she gazed around at the shelves of books that occupied all four walls and stood in stacks in the center of the large room.

This was what she lusted for, what she had promised Mother Lloth her direct obedience forever after in exchange for her success. A stack of books stood so close to her that she could reach out and touch them if she but moved her arm. But she didn't, because she knew to do so would mean instant death. Shallowsoul allowed no one to touch the books.