"That was just lovely," Estah said when Mari had finished.

Mari smiled and started to ask the halfling what she would like to hear next when her eyes were caught by Caledan's intent gaze. He sat across the fire, his face lost in shadow, his pale green eyes locked on hers.

Caledan stood up. "I'm going to go stretch my legs," he told the others. He walked away from the ring of firelight. Mari watched him until he vanished into the deepening purple twilight.

The healer requested a lively tune next, one called "The Dragon and the Dormouse." After that, Mari played several more songs, but finally her hands fell from the polished wood of her baliset.

"I'll… I'll be back soon," she told the others, setting down the instrument. She gazed into the dusky night and walked in the direction Caledan had taken earlier.

What are you doing, Mari Al'maren? she asked herself. But she had no answer. She knew she ought to stay away from Caledan. She had known so from the moment she first looked at him and felt the tingling in her skin when he touched her. She had fought those feelings with all her strength, as if they had been demons trying to gain control of her.

She knew it was wrong, even dangerous, to fall in love with Caledan. She had sworn to be true to the Harpers, and she couldn't love Caledan and perform her duty at the same time. She could not compromise herself as a Harper. And yet…

"Who's there?" a voice spoke softly in the dimness. It was Caledan.

"It's only me, scoundrel," she said, stepping from a shadow into the silvery light of the rising moon. They stood atop a low hill. The land stretched out beneath them in all directions. In the distance Mari could spot the brightness of the companions' campfire, but they were out of earshot.

"What do you want?" Caledan asked, his voice neutral.

Mari shook her head. "I don't know. Nothing, I suppose." The moonlight glimmered off her silver Harper pin. "No, that's not true," she added after a heartbeat. "I do want something. Foolish as it may be, I want you, Caledan."

He was silent for a long moment. "I want you, too… Mari," he said finally, his voice unusually husky. "But…"

Mari took a step forward, placed her hands on his broad shoulders, and kissed him soundly. He tried to pull away, but she held on with all her strength and did not let him go. Then, slowly, his lips melted against hers. Finally he reached out and pulled her close, her head resting against his chest.

"You may live to regret this, you know."

"I know," she said, smiling wryly. "But I'll love you even then."

He spread his cloak out upon the dewy grass, and the two sank down to the soft ground.

"One more day," Caledan said when the companions were all mounted, ready to ride again into the valley of the ancient, numberless barrows. Dawn had come; the sky was gray and the light gloomy. "After that, we've got to get back to Iriaebor. For all we know, Ravendas has found the Night-stone already."

"If that is so," Morhion said, "then there is little point in our returning at all." Caledan looked darkly at the mage but did not answer him.

They made their way to the north side of the valley and spent the morning exploring among the overgrown burial mounds. There were fewer barrows here, but they seemed to contain the same as all the others they had examined- mostly the remains of Calimshite soldiers.

"Calimshan must have lost a major battle here at some point," Tyveris said, tossing down another helmet in disgust. "Serves them right." The loremaster was beginning to develop a serious dislike for Calimshites.

Mari glanced over at Caledan, who was refilling the hole Tyveris had dug in this latest barrow, and saw that he was looking at her. He smiled, the expression lighting up his green eyes, then he winked at her mischievously before returning to work. Mari couldn't help but grin. He was a scoundrel, that was certain, but at least he seemed to be her scoundrel.

"Caledan, Mari, come look at this," Tyveris said then. He was examining a large barrow not far from the one they had just excavated. It was a low, circular mound, its doorway filled with dark stones. "This one looks a little different than any of the others we've investigated so far."

Morhion walked around the barrow, examining it critically. "It is different, loremaster. That could mean it is older, dating closer to the time Talembar fell. Or…"

"Or what?" Caledan asked.

"Or it may mean that this tomb was built for a different sort of occupant."

"Like a king, you mean?" Ferret asked, his beady eyes lighting up. "And kings are usually buried with treasure, am I right?"

"I suppose there's only one way to find out," Caledan said.

They set to clearing away the stones from the barrow's low, circular entrance. Within minutes they found that the entrance to the barrow had been sealed up with daub and wattle. Strange symbols had been drawn in the mud of the seal, but centuries of dampness had worn them down so that they could barely be seen, let alone read.

"Allow me," Tyveris said. The big loremaster stood before the barrow's entrance. He closed his eyes and spoke a soft, rumbling prayer. "Just apologizing in advance," he explained when he finished.

"Apologizing for what?" Man asked.

"This." In one swift motion, Tyveris gathered up his brown robe around his knees and landed a powerful kick on the daub and wattle seal. The dried mud shattered. There was a faint hiss, and a puff of foul-smelling air issued from the entrance.

"I don't think I want to be the one to crawl in and see who's buried in there," Tyveris said, grimacing as he held his nose.

"I'll go," Ferret said eagerly, bounding toward the barrow's entrance. Abruptly he stopped short.

A spray of dirt and stone burst outward from the barrow's entrance, showering the companions. Mari watched in horror as something began clawing its way out of the tomb. Its fiery red arms were massive and gnarled. It scrabbled at the dirt with yellowed talons as long as daggers. Its face was that of a beast, its ears large and pointed, its snout strangely flattened. Its fangs were long and sharp, and it had two hot eyes as crimson as fresh blood.

"Ready yourself, Tyveris!" Morhion called out loudly. "We've got to force it back into the barrow. Once it is free, we will not be able to defeat it." The beast continued to inch its way out of the tomb's narrow entrance. It let out a piercing scream.

"Can you call on the strength of your god or not, lore-master?"

Tyveris nodded.

'Then do so," the mage snapped. "Use your prayers to drive the creature back into the barrow. I will attempt to seal the entrance again."

Caledan drew his sword to defend the loremaster and mage should their spells fail, but he knew his blade would be futile against this horrible beast.

Tyveris began to chant a fervent, rapid prayer to Oghma. The mage wore a look of concentration on his face as he struggled to recall the words of some arcane spell.

"El atha cul Oghma, elfaltira kempar min Oghma yarl" Tyveris shouted, gripping a bronze holy symbol that hung about his neck, his deep voice booming like thunder. Caledan didn't see anything happen-no crackle of magic or burst of fire-but suddenly the creature screamed as if it had been struck a dire blow. The light in its fiery eyes flickered. The creature snarled and writhed in agony, then retreated back inside the barrow.

At the same time, the mage released his spell. A shimmering blue nimbus appeared where the mud seal had been. "Quickly, help me replace the stones," the mage said, and the others rapidly piled the dark stones back, sealing the entrance tightly.

When the last stone was in place, the mage sank to the ground, breathing hard. Tyveris slumped nearby, his head in his hands.

"Are you all right?" Estah asked them concernedly.