Mari had not wished to pass through Elturel, even though it was the city where she had grown up. "There's nothing there for me now except memories," she had said as they skirted around the city's walls. Caledan hadn't known how to respond. He knew that, sometimes, memories were all a person had left.

Now Elturel lay three days behind them, and they trod on the very edges of the Fields of the Dead. Somewhere in the vast rolling plains before them lay the tomb of Talek Talembar-and, they all hoped, the key to fighting the dark magic of the Nightstone.

The village was little more than a sparse huddle of stone houses with thatched roofs. A few peasants picked their way through the churned mud of the village's one and only street, but these looked up in fright as the companions approached, hurrying indoors. Wary eyes watched from cracked shutters as the companions rode down the street, but no villagers came out to greet them.

"Friendly place," Caledan noted. "Ferret, did you notice any inns or taverns while you were scouting?"

"I saw a large building on the far side of the village," the thief said. "If the owners aren't willing to accommodate us, I'm sure we can convince them somehow." He idly spun a sharp dagger on the tip of a finger.

"Ferret, there is such a thing as paying, you know," Ty-veris commented. The thief gave the monk a nauseous look.

The big structure Ferret had spied turned out to be, in fact, an inn. It was a tidy, two-storied building of wood and stone. Tyveris and Ferret saw to the horses while the others went inside to inquire about lodging. The common room was austere but neatly kept, and the freshly scrubbed tabletops warranted a look of approval from Estah. "Yes, this will do nicely," the halfling said.

The innkeep, a man named Brandebar, was a jovial fellow of middle years, a widower who kept the inn with the help of his two daughters. The inn had no guests at the moment, and the innkeep was grateful for the business. When the Harper gave him three heavy gold coins, his eyes widened.

"I'll show you to my finest rooms, milady," he said, sketching a rough bow as he pocketed the coins. "If you don't mind my saying, you seem like important folk. We don't get many lords and ladies riding through these parts. I hope you'll find my modest rooms to your liking."

"I'm sure we'll like things just fine," Mari said reassuringly.

The innkeep showed them to a pair of comfortable adjoining rooms on the second floor.

"There you go, my lady," Caledan said wryly as he tossed Man's saddlebags onto a bed.

"Don't expect me to start calling you, 'my lord,'" she replied smartly, hands on her hips.

After they stowed their gear they headed back to the common room to see what was in store for supper. Tyveris and Ferret had already finished with the horses, and each held a clay pot of ale in his hand.

"That's not fair, starting without me," Caledan said in a hurt tone. He ordered two more pots of ale from one of the innkeep's daughters, a stout woman with ruddy cheeks and a cheerful smile. He had some catching up to do.

The innkeep himself brought them their supper-a rich meat stew, loaves of fresh, crusty brown bread, and a crock of soft, pale cheese. It was without doubt the best meal they had eaten since leaving the Dreaming Dragon, and Caledan felt his spirits lifting.

"Where's Morhion?" Mari asked as they ate.

"That mage," Estah said with a scowl. "He isn't the least interested in eating. He's upstairs with his nose buried in one of his musty old books. He mumbled something about needing to be ready."

"Ready for what?" Ferret asked.

The halfling shrugged. "Why, for battling the shadevar, I suppose."

"I'll take him a plate," Mari said, dishing up some of the stew and slicing several pieces of bread.

"Good luck, Mari," Estah said, patting her hand. "The gods know, I tried for years to get that man to eat enough without much luck. I don't know what he subsists on. Ink fumes or some such thing, I suppose."

Caledan watched Mari as she ascended the stairs, plate in hand. Why was the Harper so concerned about that infernal mage?

After a time Mari returned downstairs. She sat back down at the table where the companions were eating and picked at her stew.

After the supper dishes had been cleared they sat near the fire, discussing their plans for the next day. According to Tyveris's map, the village of Asher was no more than a day's ride to the northwest.

Man sighed and told the others she was going to turn in early. Estah noticed that she was rubbing her temples, as if she had a headache.

"Is something wrong, Man?" Estah asked in concern, but the Harper shook her head.

"I'm tired, that's all," Mari answered with a thin smile "Thanks, Estah." Mari left the common room.

"Why don't you go after her, Caledan?" Estah said softly, touching his arm gently. Ferret and Tyveris were engaged in a friendly argument of some sort and paying little attention to Estah and Caledan.

Caledan should have known he couldn't hide his emotions from the healer. "I can't, Estah," he said almost angrily. How had he gotten himself into a situation like this? "Maybe the Harper and I do feel… something for each other. But both of us know that it's not going to work."

"Why?" Estah asked simply. "Why turn your back on love, Caledan?"

He shook his head, fidgeting with the copper bracelet on his left wrist. "I loved once, Estah. And I think maybe once was enough."

"I've never heard such nonsense," Estah said, her brown eyes flashing fire. "Why, you're every bit as stubborn as she is." She stood up, her hands resting firmly on her hips. "We all loved Kera very much," she said quietly but firmly. "But someday, Caledan, you are going to have to take that bracelet off."

Caledan stared at her in surprise, but the halfling turned on a heel with a flounce of her gray dress and marched up the stairwell.

The moon had not yet risen; the night was dark. It was Tyveris's watch. The loremaster stood by the window while the others slept, gazing out over the village streets. He yawned, keeping his eyes peeled. He was determined not to fall asleep during his watch.

So intently was the loremaster's attention focused outside, however, that he did not hear the faint stirring in the shadowed room behind him.

A form quietly slipped from one of the beds and stood in the dimness, clad only in a light robe of white. It was the Harper, Mari. Her eyes were open, but they stared blankly into the darkness, unblinking. Slowly, Mari reached down to the leather pack that lay next to her bed. She slipped something silently from the pack, then gripped it tightly in her hand. Sharp steel shone dimly in the dusky air.

Mari trod almost soundlessly on bare feet past the bed where Estah lay, deep in slumber. Tyveris did not turn from the window, nor did he see Mari step through the open doorway into the adjoining room. Moving stiffly, Mari strode past the bunks where Morhion and Ferret slept until she reached a low cot against the far wall.

Caledan lay sleeping before her.

He shifted in his slumber, making a low sound, but did not wake. Still staring blankly ahead, Mari lifted the dagger. She hesitated, her brow furrowing. But after several heartbeats her face hardened once more. Her grip on the hilt tightened as she poised the blade over Caledan's bare chest.

And then she thrust the knife downward.