Shadowstorm_ The Twilight War Part 39

Riven's mouth hardened. "Take a step back, Mags. Do it now, and get your mouth under control."

"I want Rivalen Tanthul dead for what he did to me."

"That's both of us, then," Riven answered. "Step back."

Magadon did and turned to Cale. "Take me to Rivalen, Cale."

"No."

Cale's word brought Magadon up short. "No? I owe him."

Cale nodded. "As do I. As does Riven. But Rivalen Tanthul is no more our fight than is Sembia's civil war. Not now, at least."

Magadon's brow furrowed, his colorless eyes narrowed.

"We have other concerns," Cale said soothingly. "You need some time, Mags. You've been through a lot. We all have."

"Time is the last thing I need," Magadon said softly, and looked away. "Or have."

"Nayan, get him some food and a place to rest," Cale said. "He's had it harder than Riven and I."

The easterner nodded and beckoned Magadon into the temple. Magadon sighed, nodded, and followed Nayan.

"Mags," Cale called after.

The mindmage turned. He looked ten years older than he had when Cale had first met him. "Kesson Rel is the priority, Mags. Trust me."

Magadon nodded. "I do. I am sorry about my ... tone."

"You're not yourself."

"No," Magadon said. "I am not."

He turned and Nayan led him off. Cale and Riven shared a look. "He's fading," Riven said.

Cale nodded.

"But you are going to answer this Abelar Corrinthal's call anyway."

Cale nodded again. "I'm indebted to him. And I've got enough debts outstanding. Time to start closing them out."

"I will come with you."

Cale shook his head. "This is my problem. You stay with Mags. I'll return quickly and we'll hunt Kesson Rel."

"He may be hunting us, Cale. You think of that? You think that duplicate was there by chance? He arranged it all."

Cale nodded. Riven was right.

"If he comes for us, he needs to find you and me together. Mags is safe in the temple. Not even Kesson Rel can scry here. No one can. Nayan can watch over him. I am with you," Riven said.

"Riven ..."

The a.s.sa.s.sin cut him off. "I've got debts to pay, too, Cale. I am with you."

Cale stared into Riven's one good eye. "Well enough. I will find Abelar with a divination and we go."

"Now?"

"Now."

Cale's spell located Abelar quickly. The servant of Lathander had taken no steps to ward himself. He resided in an encampment along the sh.o.r.e of a small lake. Fires burned here and there in the camp. Hollow-eyed men, women, and children gathered around the fires, hovered near the tents.

Refugees, Cale figured, as he drew the shadows to himself and transported there with Riven.

They materialized before a group of seven armed men seated near a fire. The men leaped to their feet and exclaimed in surprise, but none drew blades.

Cale held up his hands, still leaking shadows. "We are friends and are here to see Abelar Corrinthal."

"He has answered," one of the men said.

A man as tall as Cale stepped forward. He wore a holy symbol on a chain around his throat-Lathander's sun. His long brown hair hung loose to his shoulders.

"I am Roen. You can only be Erevis Cale. Well met. My sending found you. Thank you for coming."

Old men, women, and children, perhaps attracted by the commotion of Cale's sudden appearance, hovered at the edge of the firelight. They eyed Cale and Riven warily. They looked dirty, underfed, fearful.

"All is well here," Roen called to them. "These men are allies."

The refugees nodded, some of the children even smiled.

"I will take you to Abelar," Roen said, and led them to a nearby canvas tent. "Abelar, the sending is answered."

Cale heard motion within and the tent flap flew open. Abelar Corrinthal stepped out and Cale scarcely recognized him. Dark circles stained the skin under his eyes. Lines of worry creased his brow. His red-rimmed eyes p.r.o.nounced how little he had slept.

"Thank you for coming, Erevis," Abelar said. He eyed Riven appraisingly and without judgment.

"Why did you send for me?" Cale asked.

Despite his forlorn appearance, Abelar held Cale's eyes with the same calm intensity he had when first they'd met. "My father told me that you got him out of the Hole, that you can walk the shadows like roads. Is that so?"

Cale nodded and the shadows around him swirled. "Yes. That is so."

Voices behind Cale and Riven murmured. Abelar's men had followed them to the tent. Abelar nodded and took a deep breath, like he was leaping into deep water. "I thank you for that. But now ... I need to ask your a.s.sistance again."

"Abelar, Sembia's civil war is not-"

Abelar's face twisted in grief. "To the h.e.l.ls with Sembia. They took my son, Erevis. My four-year-old son."

"What? Who?"

"Malkur Forrin. His soldiers. They burned my estate and took my son to get at me. We pursued but ... could not save him. I failed. Lathander failed. I need your help."

Before Cale could answer, Riven said, "They took a boy to get at you?"

Cale heard brewing anger in the a.s.sa.s.sin's tone.

Abelar nodded, his eyes filled with tears. "My son was born without his full wits. He will not understand what is happening to him. He has never been away from our estate. I cannot bear the thought of ..."

He bowed his head and tried to compose himself. Roen stepped forward and put a hand on Abelar's shoulder.

"Forrin's army numbers over a thousand," Roen said. "We saw it for ourselves."

"Where did they take the boy?" Riven asked.

Abelar looked up, first to Riven, then to Cale, his eyes hopeful. "Their camp. He is in the midst of their army still, I presume. It is much to ask, I know, but I thought if you could pull my father from the Hole, you could ..."

He trailed off, staring at Cale, at Riven.

Cale's thoughts turned to Jak, to Aril, and he did not hesitate. "We will help you get him back."

"Tonight," Riven said with a nod. "Steps over a line, taking a boy. Someone pays for that. In blood."

The men around them murmured approvingly.

Abelar stared at them with grat.i.tude, nodded. "You are what I'd hoped. But not what I'd expected."

"Nor I," added Roen.

Riven chuckled.

"We bring him back here?" Cale said. "To you?"

Abelar looked surprised by the question, as if he had not considered it. His expression went from hopeful to troubled to pained. He shook his head. "No ... no. Bring my son back here to my father. I ... do not want him to see me this way."

"What way is that?" Riven asked.

Abelar looked down at his palms as if they were covered in stains. He looked at Riven and Cale. "I have to get something out of me before I see him. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"It doesn't come out," Riven said softly, and Abelar blanched.

"Abelar," Roen said, "The Morninglord is ..."

"You want Forrin to pay," Cale said. "Where do you want him?"

Abelar's eyes focused, burned. "The ruins of Fairhaven, my estate. Can you take me there, or should I ride?"

"I can take you there. At dawn?"

"No," Abelar said, and a cloud pa.s.sed over his face. "Before dawn. This is nothing to be done under the light of the sun. Well enough?"

"Well enough. Gather your gear. We go now."

They waited while Abelar donned his armor, belted on his blade, and explained matters to his men.

"Your shield?" Cale asked.

Abelar glanced at the still lake, its surface reflecting the stars and Selune's light, and shook his head. "I do not use it anymore."

Cale decided to ask nothing more. "Fairhaven, you said?"

"Aye."

"I will return shortly," Cale said to Riven. He focused his mind on the name and opened his consciousness. The name alone was enough to provide a beacon for his power. He shrouded himself and Abelar in darkness, felt the corresponding darkness in Fairhaven, and took them there.

The smell of smoke still hung in the air. The shadows parted to reveal the charred skeleton of a once grand estate, burned nearly to the ground. Outbuildings, too, had been set aflame and reduced to heaps of blackened wood. Only the stables and a small village had been spared the flames. A breeze whistled the ruins.

They stood in the midst of dozens of graves marked with river stones. The turned earth showed them to be freshly dug.

"Dark," Cale oathed, and shadows swirled around him.

"They murdered everyone," Abelar said, and the coldness in his tone reminded Cale of Riven. Small wonder he had not wanted to see his boy before doing what needed to be done. "Children. Women. The old. Forrin ordered it, the same way he ordered the burning of Saerb."

Cale stood in respectful silence for a moment. "I should begin the process of finding your son. I need his name."

Abelar's expression softened. "His name is Elden. He is a good son."

Cale and Abelar clasped hands. "You can tell him so yourself. Elden comes home tonight. Then I'll bring you Forrin."

Abelar's expression hardened. "I will be waiting."

Cale stared into his face. "What Riven said ... he's right, Abelar. There's no stepping back from some things once you've started down the path."

"I know."

Cale was not sure Abelar did know, but did not feel it his place to lecture the man further. He gathered the shadows to him, knowing there would be another murder in Fairhaven before the sun again showed its face.

Cale materialized in the camp beside Riven and wasted no time. "The boy first," he said, and started for Abelar's tent.

"The boy first," Riven agreed, falling into step beside him.

A bearded man in plate armor stood outside Abelar's tent. He bore a shield enameled with the rose of Lathander. Cale recognized him as Regg, Abelar's lieutenant. They stopped before him.

"He's gone?" Regg asked.

"He'll be back. He needs to do something first."

Regg nodded, his expression troubled. "I know what he needs to do. It's deserved, but ..." He looked up at Cale. "Is there anything I can do to help?"