The thing was curled tightly, so sticky with black ichor they could make out little of its form, save that it had long, supple limbs and two pulsating protrusions on its back that could only be stubby wings. A dull, spiky lump of metal rested against its chest. The Shadowstar. The creature was shuddering.

"There's something wrong with it," Ferret choked. "It was born too soon," Morhion said grimly. "K'shar's blow released it from the chrysalis before its metamorphosis was complete."

Mari shivered. "Will it…" She forced herself to rephrase her words. "Will he die?"

Morhion shook his head. "No. It's growing stronger every moment. I think it will live. But it is vulnerable now, while it is still taking shape."

"Then Milil save me," Mari whispered. She picked up her short sword, then took a step toward the still-forming shadowking. They had been too late to prevent Caledan's metamorphosis. Now there was only one thing she could do. Forgive me, Caledan! she cried silently. She lifted the sword, ready to end his misery.

A shriek of ancient hatred shattered the air as a dark shape swooped down from the leaden sky. Mari stumbled backward barely in time to avoid scythelike talons. With a rush of jet-black wings, the shadowy blur sped once more toward the clouds. Mari craned her neck, gazing up to see a shadowsteed whirling high above the throne. Another malevolent cry echoed off hard stone. Another shadowsteed rapidly approached the pinnacle.

Morhion pulled Mari to her feet. "The remaining two shadevari will protect the shadowking while it is taking form," he warned.

Mari gripped her sword. "Then we have to try to kill him." She gazed at the alien creature that struggled before the throne. Its wings were continuing to grow. They pulsated more strongly now. Each throb squeezed dark fluid into the appendages, stretching them like the expanding wings of a newly hatched butterfly. Was there anything at all of Caledan left inside that hideous form?

Morhion snatched the sword from her hand. "This will not avail you." He heaved the weapon off the pinnacle. The only thing that can destroy the shadowking now is the Valesong. We must restore the song, while the shadowking is still taking shape."

"Somehow we have to try to unblock the fissure," Mari responded.

Morhion nodded in agreement. "You must do it, Mari, I will try to distract the shadevari, to give you time to reach the fissure."

Mari paled, biting her lip fiercely. The mage intended to buy her time with his own life. Yet, could it be a worse bargain than the one he had already forged with Serafi?

Ferret cleared his throat nervously. "If we're going to do something, we might want to do it soon." He pointed toward the sky. The second shadowsteed had reached the first, and the creatures were circling menacingly. Morhion moved toward the thief. "Ferret, find a place to hide with Kellen. You must protect the boy at all costs. Do you nderstand?"

Ferret nodded. "I understand, Morhion. I won't say good-bye, but I will say good luck." He laid a hand on Kellen's shoulder. "Come on, kid. Let's get out of here."

"No," Kellen said crossly. "I want to help Morhion. I'm a mage, too."

"Not now, you're not," Ferret countered. "Right now you're a thief, and a good thief always knows when to get his head under cover. Got it?" Kellen gave Morhion a hurt look, then hung his head, "Very well, Uncle Ferret."

K'shar approached Mari. "You will need help in the caves beneath the vale. I will go with you, Al'maren." She Linked at the half-elf in surprise. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You said once that in a different time and place we might have been friends." A grin crossed his striking visage. "Perhaps this is that time and place." After a moment she nodded. "Perhaps it is at that." Morhion gave K'shar an appraising look. "And those eyes of yours are made for seeing in the dark of under-ground tunnels, aren't they half-elf? Or should I say, half-drow?" Only the faintest ripple of emotion crossed the Hunter's calm visage. "I am only one quarter drow, mage. My mother's mother was a dark elf. Though it meant her death, she dared to love a green elf of the forest, and bore him a daughter. As a half-breed, my mother was cast from the underground city of the drow and was forced to live above ground. In the end, she was slain by humans who feared her dark elven blood."

Mari stared at K'shar. Legend told that dark elves were creatures of cunning and evil, and that this was why they had been driven underground. Yet she had also heard rumors of a great drow hero in the Northlands. She found herself wondering if the dark elves were long ago forced underground, not because they were wicked but simply because they were different.

There was no time to consider such matters. Two hideous shrieks rang out over the vale. The shadow steeds were diving.

"Go!" Morhion shouted, blue eyes blazing, his voice cold and commanding.

Ferret caught Kellen in his arms and dashed down the pinnacle's spiraling steps. Mari and Kshar followed close behind. At the base of the pinnacle they spotted a narrow crevice that led to a small cave.

"This is where we get off," Ferret announced. He helped Kellen slip into the cave, then turned to give Mari one last wink. "If I don't see you again in this life, I'll you in the next."

Despite herself, Mari grinned. "I'm beginning to think you have nine lives, Ferret." Impulsively, she kissed the thief. He gave her a bemused look, then disappeared into the cave after Kellen.

Mari turned to K'shar. "Let's go."

The two started off across the vale at a run. Mari could not keep up with the fleet half-elf, but the blocked fissures were not far. She reached the outcrop a few seconds after him. The shadevari had ignored them. Whatever Morhion was doing, it seemed to be working.

"What do you think we'll find down there?" Mari wondered, peering into one of the lightless crevices.

"There is but one way to find out," K'shar replied. Pulling a coil of rope from his belt, he looped an end around a rocky protrusion, then tossed the rope through largest of the three holes. "I'll go first." Without wait-ing an answer, he slid into the fissure and vanished from sight.

Mari took a deep breath, then followed the half-elf through the gap. Hand over hand, she lowered herself through pitch blackness until she wondered if she would run out of rope before she ran out of shaft. Without warn-ning a pair of hands gripped her waist, steadying her as her feet struck hard rock. She turned to see K'shar's golden eyes glowing in the darkness. They had reached the bottom of the shaft. After a moment, Mari realized she could see more than just the half-elfs uncanny eyes. Here and there, spurs of rock defined the mouth of a horizontal passageway. A faint crimson illumination hung on air that was uncom-fortably warm and acrid with the stench of sulfur. "This way," Kshar said, moving into the tunnel. Mari followed on his heels. The passage was large enough for her to stand upright, but K'shar was forced to stoop. Thee walls of the tunnel were formed of irregular but strangely smooth black stone. After they had walked but a few minutes, the passage forked. K'shar squinted his sensitive eyes. "The glow is stronger in the left-hand tunnel." Mari peered that way. "It seems to lead down a bit, too. that could be a good sign." K'shar gave her a curious look. "How do you know that, Renegade?"

She wiped a sheen of sweat from her brow with the back of a hand. "We all have our talents. You have sensi-tive eys, and I happen to have an excellent sense of direction. By the way, K'shar—you're helping me, so that means you are a renegade Harper yourself. Don't you think you should quit calling me Renegade and start calling me Mari?"

K'shar grinned but said nothing. They plunged into the left-hand tunnel. After that, the path forked numerous times, and once they came to a natural rock chamber into which a half-dozen passages opened. At each diverging of the ways, K'shar used his sensitive drow eyes to deter mine in which direction the ruddy light was strongest. In turn, Mari made certain they were not backtracking or moving in circles in the underground labyrinth. Neither questioned the judgment of the other.