The merchants were right about the value of protection, but Lady Mantis was no cost-cutting merchant. The glassy stone didn't budge. For a moment, though, and to Dru's eyes alone, it became darkly transparent. He glimpsed another rocky overhang, another waterfall, and a mossy greensward beyond it.

His spell was already waning, taking the transparent moment with it, when Dru made out three figures near a mirror-image marble temple. Softly striped Wyndyfarh and Sheemzher in his brilliant blue and green were unmistakable. The third figure, a slender, gold-haired hair man, had to be Galimer, but it was a changed Galimer who sat on a bench, slightly apart from the other two, and resembled nothing so much as a living statue.

The last of the wax evaporated with a pop! The vision ended and Dru stepped back from the stone.

"What was that supposed to be?" Rozt'a demanded.

"There's another grove, on the other side. I saw it through the spell. She's got Galimer there with her."

"And?"

"She's got him. They're talking, her and the goblin, not Galimer. Galimer's ..." He sought words that wouldn't push Rozt'a over the edge. "He's sitting on a bench by himself, watching the waterfall."

"What are we waiting for? Blast this thing and we'll grab him." Rozt'a checked her weapons. If the best his efforts had accomplished was a few moments of shadowed vision, then there was no way Druhallen could blast his way into Wyndyfarh's inner grove. He couldn't tell Rozt'a that, not yet.

"We're waiting to see if she'll come to us. A little restraint on our part—"

Dru got no farther with his argument when a damp wind whirled suddenly around them. Instinctively, he blinked and when he looked at the glassy stone again, it was gone. There was no twin grove, only a pitch-black emptiness and the sounds of falling water and steel sliding over oiled leather as Rozt'a drew her sword.

He closed his hand over her wrist. "Not yet."

She made a sound worthy of a lioness.

"We're on her ground, Roz. She can influence everything, even your dreams—or have you forgotten that? Let her come to us, or wonder why we haven't rushed to her. Let her do a little guessing for a change."

Rozt'a frowned, with Druhallen still clinging to her wrist, she shoved her sword home in its scabbard. She gave him a look that said, What's your hand still doing there?

"Take a breath and hold it," he advised and when she'd done so, he cast another spell he'd known for many years but rarely used. The Auld Thorassic word defied translation but it meant something akin to strength-of-mind. Rozt'a's eyes widened as the magic flowed over her. "Just in case Lady Mantis tries to influence you again. To be honest, I don't think it will prevent her from doing whatever she wants, but she won't take you by surprise."

"Thanks, I guess," she muttered, rubbing herself as though she been drenched in a cold, stinging liquid. Tiep, come over here. Dru's conjured something up for us."

He hadn't conjured anything. He'd learned the spell from a tome of basic abjuration rituals, and he'd prepared himself for only two recitations of it. Tiep's natural resistance to magic was already stronger than anything he could put together from his folding box, but Dru didn't want an argument with Rozt'a—or Tiep. He led the youth away from the waterfall, cast his second strength-of-mind spell and hoped he wouldn't regret leaving himself unfortified against the bug lady's meddling magic.

They didn't have long to wait. Tiep was still chafing his arms when Rozt'a let out a hiss and motioned for them to join her at the cave mouth. Dru rejected her invitation and pointed instead to the ground at his feet. Rozt'a had barely joined them when the tall, pale woman emerged from her cave leading Sheemzher who, in turn, guided Galimer by the sleeve. Dru tried to restrain Rozt'a, but when she saw her husband standing slack-jawed and blinking in the morning sunlight, she broke free. Neither Wyndyfarh nor Sheemzher made any effort to stop Galimer's wife from embracing him.

Galimer was steady on his feet. His balance accommodated Rozt'a's vigorous greeting, but he never looked at her, never acknowledged her words or kisses. After a few moments of hugging a warm statue, Rozt'a released him. She turned on Wyndyfarh.

"What's the matter with him? What have you done to my husband? He doesn't recognize me. He doesn't know me or if he's dead or still alive!" As always, her hands dropped to her sword. She showed five-fingers worth of steel.

Lady Mantis was unimpressed. "Your husband contemplates the paths of his life. It is a long journey and he has barely begun." Her voice was as musical and pleasant as it was imperious. "When you return, he will be ready and waiting for you."

Dru spoke up quickly, before Rozt'a said something they'd all regret. "We're not going anywhere without Galimer."

"Damn straight we're not," Tiep affirmed from somewhere behind Dru's right shoulder.

"Your Galimer's mind is on a journey it very much needs and his body is in no condition to follow you. I am giving you a chance to right the wrongs you've done me. You cannot bring my servant back to life, but you can avenge others against my enemies and return to me with proof that my will has been done."

Considering the lady's magical prowess, that didn't sound like an easy assignment, but if it were the only way to get Galimer back ... Dru tested his resolve and found that he'd agree to almost anything if it would release Galimer from mindless torpor.

Predictably, Tiep took a more pragmatic view: "If you can't avenge your servants, how in blazes are we supposed to pull it off?"

Lady Mantis studied Tiep with slow menace. "That is not my concern. If you wish to redeem your companion, your path leads beyond Weathercote Wood to the ruins called Dekanter. Sheemzher will guide you there."

When he heard the words "Dekanter" and "Sheemzher," puzzle pieces fell into place in Druhallen's mind. He was tempted to believe Tiep was right: They'd been set up. The goblin had laid his trap—Wyndyfarh's trap—back in their Parnast rented room. The plot seemed perfect, except for one small detail: Tiep's theft had been pure opportunism. There had to be something Dru was missing. In his mind's eye, he recalled the map on Amarandaris's wall and wished he'd made time for curiosity.

While Rozt'a and Tiep sputtered their unwillingness to be guided by a goblin, Dru stood silent, shaking his head. He drew Lady Wyndyfarh's attention.

"Is Dekanter not where you wished to go? I promise you a chance to view the wonders of Netherese magecraft as no human has seen them in four thousand years."

Bitterness and anger got the better of discretion as Dru answered, "Yes, we wanted to go to Dekanter. It was never that much of a secret, but the whole world seems to know now. If you had a commission for us, you could have asked." He nodded his head in oblivious Galimer's direction. "Now it's too late. You've sent our negotiator on a journey."

White lightning played across the lady's eyes. "Don't push me," she warned, all soft and pleasant and oozing lethal power.

Dru braced himself for a mental onslaught and wasn't surprised when Wyndyfarh's image went cloudy in his mind's eye. He glimpsed someone who was more raptor than woman, with wings as well as arms and an obsidian beak.

Wyndyfarh warned Dru, "I have set you a task that serves you as it redeems you. Accept it, if you wish to release your friend."

Seeing Wyndyfarh as she truly was—as, perhaps, Tiep had seen her from the start—Druhallen understood that everything else was shapeshifting or pure illusion. Her lips need never move to convey her points. Having seen her in her true form, Dru knew as well, that Lady Mantis wasn't natural or native to Faerun. He didn't want to do her bidding but to save his friend—?