Unless Tyr's hammer was returned.

"Never forget, husband," Shal said softly, "you are the same man you always were. Nothing has changed that."

He found her face with his hands and kissed her soundly. "What good could I possibly have done in my life to deserve you, Shal?"

"Oh, I can think of a thing or two," she said with a devilish smile.

Kern groaned as he dragged himself out of bed.

"How do you ever expect to fight real monsters, Kern, if dream ones can knock the stuffing out of you so easily?"

Kern shot Listle a withering glance. Between his mother's healing ointment and a night's dreamless rest, he was almost as good as new. Put the emphasis on almost, he thought with a wince as he shrugged on a tunic the color of mist. His chest was so sore he felt as if he had been hugged by an over-friendly owlbear.

"By the way, your mother wants to see you."

"About what?" Kern asked. He grimaced as he pulled on his boots.

The elf did a poor job of stifling a giggle. "How should I know?" she asked.

"It's funny," Kern grumbled, "but I always thought elves were supposed to be stately, regal, polite beings."

"Well, thinking never was your strong point," Listle retorted.

With a glare, Kern brushed past her and headed for his mother's chamber. As he trudged up the tower's central staircase, he wondered why Shal wanted to see him. She didn't usually invite him into her spellcasting chamber. In fact, her private laboratory was generally off-limits to everyone except Listle. She probably wanted to talk about his recurring nightmares, he thought.

He had dreamed about the beast in the darkness a number of times before, and each time the dream had been a little clearer and lasted a little longer. He tried to recall the details of yesterday's nightmare, but already it seemed foggy. He remembered a shadowed nave and a terrible creature. The beast had called him something. What was it? A title of some sort… Kern shook his head. The memory was too clouded.

The young man had a feeling that his mother and father knew something about the nightmare that they weren't telling him. They seemed ill at ease every time he told them he had dreamed the same dream. Were they trying to protect him from something?

He sighed. It wasn't easy being the only son of two of the city of Phlan's greatest heroes. Once, with the help of Kern's honorary Uncle Ren, Tarl and Shal had defeated an evil dragon that tyrannized half the city, which in those days was rife with monsters and ruins. And another time, they had helped to rescue Phlan from an evil Red Wizard named Marcus, who had stolen the city and sealed it in a cavern beneath his tower. Kern didn't know how he could ever live up to the examples set by parents like that.

"There you are," Shal said as her son stepped into the circular chamber where she studied and practiced her magical skills. Once the chamber had been used by a powerful wizard named Denlor, a friend of Shal's old master, but after his death Shal had taken it over. While Shal insisted that the rest of the tower be spotless, this room was always cluttered. Shelves lined the walls, sagging under their load of leather-bound books and rune-sealed jars. Countless tables were strewn with crisp rolls of parchment, bright purple quill pens, and crystal pots of invisible ink. Bunches of dried herbs hung from the rafters, lending the air a sweet, dusty scent.

"Sit," Shal said briskly. Kern did as ordered. His mother approached him with a clear crystal in hand, her violet robe whispering against the stone floor.

"What is that?" Kern asked, eyeing the crystal warily. He was more than a little suspicious of his mother's magic powers. He had seen her cast a spell and engulf entire bands of attacking orcs in searing flame. It was generally a good idea to avoid being on the receiving end of her incantations.

"It's a test. I want to find out why your father's spell failed to heal you. Now stop squirming and hold still."

She spoke several strange words. Suddenly the crystal glowed with a crimson radiance. The scarlet glow reached out to envelop a heavy spellbook on a nearby table. The sorceress nodded in satisfaction.

"Does it detect magic?" Kern asked tentatively.

"That's right," Shal said. "Now it's your turn." She brought the crystal closer to Kern. The scarlet glow reached out for him, probing. But as soon as the radiance touched his chest, it abruptly vanished. The crystal went dark, disintegrating into a fine gray powder that trickled from Shal's hand.

She raised an eyebrow, gazing speculatively at her son.

"What?" Kern asked defensively. "What is it?"

"This is a problem," Shal said. She took a troubled breath. "Oh, I've suspected it for some time now. Why do you think I always tell you to stay away from my chamber when I'm working on a spell?" She dusted the remnants of the crystal from her hands. "This confirms everything."

"Confirms what?" Kern asked in utter desperation.

"You are unmagic, Kern." Her face grew serious. "It's my fault, of course. I cast a number of powerful spells while I was pregnant with you. I would have rather not cast them but was forced to in order to save your father, as well as the city of Phlan. Now it seems they have affected you, though I'm not yet sure if the effect is permanent, or even if it will be consistent from one day to the next."

Kern's head was spinning. "Affected me in what way?"

"Magic doesn't work on you, Kern. Now, this might not actually be all bad. It means you're immune to harmful spells. But it also means you're immune to magical healing as well, like the spell your father tried to cast on you after your strange nightmare,"

Kern groaned in dismay. "Isn't there something you can do to fix things?"

"Well, we can help you practice lowering your magical guard." Shal smiled reassuringly at her son. "It won't solve the problem, but it may help."

Before Kern could reply, Listle burst into the room. A flurry of silver sparks followed in her wake. Shal scowled at the elf's flagrant use of her swiftness spell.

The elf grinned sheepishly. "I know I wasn't supposed to cast another one," Listle said excitedly, "but I thought this was too important to wait"

"What is it, Listle?" Kern asked.

Her silvery eyes were positively glowing. "It's the clerics at the temple," she exclaimed. "They've solved Bane's riddle!"

Kern stared at the elf uncomprehendingly.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Don't you see, you ogre-brained oaf? They've discovered where the Hammer of Tyr is hidden!"

Weighted down by his heavy armor, Kern hurriedly descended the tower's central staircase. As a paladin-aspirant, tradition required that he don full armor before visiting the temple of Tyr. That included a heavy shirt of chain mail, a breastplate of beaten steel, and greaves to match. Over this he wore the tabard of pure, unblemished white that marked him as a supplicant to the Order of Paladins. At his side hung the worn battlehammer he used for practice.

He tried to adjust his heavy chain mail shirt, but no matter how much he jerked and twisted, the armor still seemed to pinch him under the arms. He found Tarl already waiting for him downstairs, Shal at his side. The two were in the middle of an intent conversation, which was broken off abruptly when Kern entered the room.

Before he could wonder what they had been discussing, Tarl spoke exuberantly.

"The temple's sages have been trying to solve the riddle of the hammer for twenty-two years. Are you as curious as I am, Son, to learn if they have discovered an answer at last?"