New hope flooded Mari's chest. It wasn't perfect, but it was a plan. "Jewel, you're brilliant!"

The matriarch of the Talondim clan shrugged modestly. "It's a gift."

Eight

The gateway was ready. Morhion stepped back and regarded the stone arch.

With red ochre, for power, he had outlined the runes carved into the rock. In front of the arch he had laid down a pathway of willow branches to symbolize travel. At present, the archway opened onto only a wall of rough-hewn stone. But when he spoke the word of opening…

The gateway stood in a chamber beneath Morhion's tower. It had been placed here by the powerful mage who had first raised the spire, three centuries ago. Yet the gateway was an artifact whose age was better measured in eons. It had taken Morhion long years of study to unlock the gateway's secrets. Even now, he was not certain that he truly understood the arch's ancient, alien magic.

"You risk great peril by using the gateway, Morhion," a sepulchral voice spoke behind him.

Morhion spun around, breathing in air suddenly turned chill. The hateful word escaped his lips with a hiss. "Serafi."

The spectral knight drifted closer, bringing with him the scent of dry dust and rot. His eyes glowed like drops of molten iron, smoldering with contempt—and desire. "It is folly for you to use the gateway, mage. Its magic is far more vast than your puny, mortal mind could possibly imagine."

Forcibly, Morhion willed away the fear and loathing that clouded his mind. "I cannot imagine that you care," he said flatly.

"Oh, but I do care." Serafi's hollow voice oozed mock sympathy. "Have you forgotten our bargain already, Morhion? How like a mortal!" The ghostly knight floated closer still. "Allow me to remind you, then. Your body belongs to me now. I am concerned what happens to it. I want to be certain it comes to me in the same excellent condition in which it stands now."

Morhion felt his head being tilted back. He resisted, the cords of his neck standing out with the strain, but it was no use. Icy, invisible hands tangled through his long golden hair, then moved to stroke the warm flesh of his throat. Suddenly the bodiless fingers tightened. Morhion choked, unable to breathe. His hands scrabbled at his neck, but they found no purchase against the incorporeal grip that strangled him. A roaring noise filled his ears. Everything grew dim…

"No, not yet," Serafi whispered.

The freezing hands released Morhion's throat. He staggered backward, drawing in shuddering breaths while brilliant sparks of light exploded before his eyes.

Serafi's voice reverberated with menace. "Do not think that you can escape your vow through death, Morhion. Your body is my property, and I will be watching over it."

Morhion wanted to shout, to hurl some curse at the spectral knight, but Serafi melted into the air and was gone.

Mari arrived a short while later. She stepped through the tower's door along with a flood of late afternoon sunlight. It was time to begin their search for Caledan and the Shadowstar.

When she saw Morhion, concern lit Mari's eyes. "Are you all right, Morhion? Your neck… it's been bruised."

Hastily, Morhion turned up the collar of his purple vest, concealing the livid marks. "It is of no importance," he said, more sharply than he intended. But she had caught him off guard.

Mari looked unconvinced, but when she opened her mouth to ask another question, a slight figure stepped from behind her.

"Hello, Morhion."

Mari looked surprised, but amusement flickered across Morhion's usually impassive visage. This was unexpected… or had it been prearranged?

"Hello, Kellen," the mage said.

"Kellen, what are you doing here?" Mari asked sternly. "You should be back at the inn with Estah."

Though the halfling healer had wanted to join the search for Caledan, Morhion and Mari had convinced her that someone needed to stay at the Dreaming Dragon in case Caledan returned. Reluctantly, Estah had agreed to remain behind, though she was not pleased about it.

"It's all right," Kellen said gravely. "I left her a note so she wouldn't wonder where I went."

Morhion gave the boy a speculative look. "And just where is it that you are going, Kellen?"

"With you, of course. You're going to need someone with the shadow magic on your journey."

Morhion glanced at Mari. "The boy is right, you know."

"I don't care if he's right," Mari countered crossly. "Right has absolutely nothing to do with it. He's only eleven years old, and he's not coming with us."

Morhion made a decision. "Listen to me, Mari," he urged quietly. "You know as well as I do that Caledan's power over shadows has become chaotic and dangerous. We may have to face shadow creatures like those in the Zhentarim lair. And if we do, we may indeed need Kellen's shadow magic."

Mari wasn't budging. "I packed supplies for only the two of us. And we don't have a horse for him."

"I'm small," Kellen offered. "I could ride with you or Morhion. And I don't eat much."

Mari let out a resigned sigh. She knelt and gripped Kellen's shoulders. "All right, Kellen. This is going to be a hard journey, and a dangerous one. Once we've left, there can be no complaining or begging to turn back. And you must do everything that I or Morhion ask you to do, quickly and without question. Do you promise?"

He nodded earnestly. "I promise, Mari."

She studied him for a moment, then smiled in spite of herself. "All right, then. Let's get going."

"Wait a minute!" a huffing voice shouted. "Not so fast!"

What now? Morhion wondered. He and Mari looked up in surprise to see a rotund figure stumble through the doorway before collapsing to the floor, wheezing. A willowy form stepped lithely over the prostrate bulk.

"I didn't know you could actually run, Cormik," Jewel said in sincere amazement. "Did you burst something, you silly goat?"

"I'm quite fine—no thanks to you, old witch," he grumbled, hauling himself to his feet. He wore a voluminous pearl-gray traveling cloak over his usual opulent finery.

Mari thrust her hands against her hips. "What now?"

Cormik pointed a chubby, accusing finger at Jewel.

"This crafty wench thought she would tag along with you on your quest, in hopes of learning the location of Stiletto's hideout." He glowered darkly at the matriarch of the Talondim clan. "Information she could then sell to other thieves for a profit."

Jewel let out a trilling laugh. She had clad her lean form in supple riding leathers dyed the same dusky violet color as her eyes. "You're angry only because I thought of the idea first."

"Actually, I thought of it first," Cormik grumbled. "You just run faster."

"Enough!" Mari shouted, holding up her hands. "It doesn't matter who thought of the idea first, because neither of you is coming with us." She looked to Morhion for support. "Am I right?"

"Actually, Mari, both Cormik and Jewel have many connections in the underworld—connections that may prove useful in our search for Stiletto."

She shot the mage a withering look. "Can't you be on my side just once, Morhion?"

He gave her a mysterious smile. "Perhaps I'll surprise you some day."

It was decided. Their plan was simple enough. They would attempt to follow Caledan's trail, asking questions about Stiletto along the way. Morhion had discovered an incantation in The Book of the Shadows, an incantation that could be spoken only by one with shadow magic who held the Shadowstar. If they gained the Shadowstar first, Kellen could recite the spell and reverse Caledan's transformation. At least, so Morhion believed.

But if Caledan reached the Shadowstar before them…

Well, it was best not to consider that possibility, for if Caledan completed his metamorphosis, Morhion was not certain anything could stop him.