Thluna closed his eyes and nodded. "In addition to everything else, Vell, the beast inside you... they put it there."

"And they can take it away," said Vell. "If we aid them."

"We came into the forest looking for answers. Looking for a destiny." Thluna frowned. "I said that myself, did I not? That our destiny would be found in the High Forest. And so it was. I wonder if we should never have come here."

He cast a glance back at the Sanctuary. The menhir standing at its center looked so much like those at Morgur's Mound and at a dozen other sites sacred to the Uthgardt. The Shepherds seemed to have vanished; how did they live in this marsh? How did they survive? What did they use for food? What would they do now that the marsh was cold and their protection gone?

Next to the great phandar tree stood Thluna's companions, including the three Uthgardt warriors who had come so far without complaint. Ilskar, Hengin, and Draf represented the characteristics of the Thunderbeast tribe: sturdy and solid, largely silent in the face of orders from their chief, and willing to march and die at his whim.

"We have the answers now, wretched though they may be," Thluna told Vell. "How can they be our ancestors? How could we have come from them?" A new thought dawned on him. "What will our tribesmen think if they learn all this? Must we keep the truth from them?"

"A question for a chief," said Vell. "Chieftains face difficult decisions, as Sungar did that day in the Fallen Lands. I was not there, but I heard what happened. Many questioned his decision to throw the axe away, but I did not think it was my place to question that decision."

"He made the wrong choice," Thluna said, looking down at the axe in his hands. "But I understand why he made it."

"This is your decision," said Vell. "We will follow you. Back to our people, to tell them what you will; or onward to Llorkh, a city completely unknown to us, to death or glory, and to that destiny we came seeking."

Thluna forced a smile. "I have little choice," he said, "when you put it that way."

* * * * *

Thluna faced the marsh, and the Shepherds approached him once again. His seven companions clustered about him.

"I have made a decision," he said, holding the ancient axe. "We will go to Llorkh and reclaim that which was taken from you. We will bring it back here."

The Shepherds seemed unimpressed. "Do you believe you can do this?"

"We believe we must try," Thluna answered. "But there is one condition."

"Which is?"

"This Heart of Runlatha obviously holds great power," said Kellin. "Now that the outside world knows of its existence, it will be doubly difficult to keep yourselves secret. All avenues must be closed."

"Therefore," concluded Thluna, "we will leave this axe with you inside the Sanctuary. Forever."

The Shepherds looked at each other then nodded to the Thunderbeasts. "This is well."

"And something further," said Vell. "You must renounce all claims on the Thunderbeast tribe and on our totem. Abandon this 'shard of the spirit' you have used to mislead us. We cannot have you interfering in our affairs any further."

This brought a violent reaction from the Shepherds. "Our claims are older than yours!" one roared. "We cannot forsake them simply because you ask it!"

"It is our price," said Thluna.

The druid Thanar added, "It is not often that fate affords the opportunity to bargain with one's own past."

"You will fail," predicted another of the Shepherds. "You have failed already, and you will fail again. Any bargain is immaterial."

"Then it should not matter if you enter one," said Thluna. "Swear. Who else will help you? Or shall we just leave you here to die?"

They sneered, then with great reluctance they relented with the slightest of nods. "May the gods speed you to Llorkh," one of them said.

"Any god but Uthgar?" asked Thluna. He turned his back to the Shepherds and led his followers away; they did not look back.

CHAPTER 17

The Central Square in Llorkh had been emptied of its usual town market, but now it held more folk than ever. Onlookers swarmed around its edges where the Lord's Men stood guard, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the strange newcomers. The exotic lizards, each taller than the buildings that surrounded them, were tethered by magic. Each behemoth wore an iron ring around a hind ankle, connected by a massive chain to a stone post in the middle of the square. The chains were enchanted to dissolve flesh that touched them, lest any fool try to release the behemoths. The chains were only long enough for the creatures to reach feed bins placed at the square's edges by some brave Lord's Men.

The great beasts occasionally raised their feet, pulling the chains to their tightest and lifting them off the ground, but the chains could not be broken. And as long as the lizards bore the rings around their ankles, they could not lift more than one foot off the ground at any time. The magical formulation had proven to be simple but effective, for which Geildarr was vastly proud.

From the heights of the Lord's Keep, Geildarr enjoyed stepping onto his balcony and watching the behemoths. He never tired of watching them. A honey-colored bird alighted on the balcony's rail and chirped merrily; its cheerful song echoed in Geildarr's heart.

The fate of the behemoths was an open question for Geildarr. He considered dissecting them, harvesting their organs for whatever magical value they might possess, and making armor of their hides. Naturally, the Dark Sun temple wanted the dinosaurs turned over to them, so they could explore corrupting them, perhaps turning them into beasts of Cyric. Geildarr would need time to weigh his options. In the meantime, he just enjoyed their presence. Huge creatures of living, breathing art, they were more of a monument to his success than any statue of Geildarr could ever be.

And yet, these animals were but a side show. The real bounty was the Heart of Runlatha. A piece of Netherese magic from before the fall was worth many more lives than had been spent on the expedition.

"You expect me to discipline you for letting the Antiquarians die," Geildarr told Ardeth as he met with her in his study. "But I will not. I was very fond of them—I know you were, too. I will miss having them crawl through ruins on my behalf. They were useful. But your success—" he gripped the red hunk of magic, its scarlet glow escaping through his fingers, "—does much to counterbalance that loss."

"I'm glad you think so," said Ardeth. "But what is that thing?"

Geildarr smiled and answered, "Nothing less than our redemption."

"You will deliver it to Zhentil Keep, then?" Ardeth asked.

"In time," said Geildarr. "I want more time to study it first—to see what it truly is. It's clearly capable of weaving powerful illusions, from what you report. Perhaps it even extended the lifespan of the Shepherds you encountered in the Sanctuary." The excitement rose in his voice. "Netherese magic, Ardeth! I've never before had my hands on a piece of magic from before Karsus's folly. I wonder how it survived. This could be magic of the sort Mystra now denies to Faerun!"

"Fzoul and Manshoon will be very pleased with it, then," said Ardeth. She watched Geildarr's crestfallen reaction to that statement.

"Truly," he said. "It's a shame that the Heart should only be ransom for my preservation as mayor."

"Is not your reign more secure now?" asked Ardeth. "Or did I kill Mythkar Leng for nothing?"

"His death pleases me, for certain." It's a shame the Antiquarians needed to die also, he silently added. He would save that issue for another time, a future blackmail.

"I'm afraid this accomplishment is only delaying the inevitable," Geildarr said. "So long as I answer to Lord Chembryl, my position here in Llorkh is in jeopardy."