“Only fairly certain?”
She frowned at him, but not too severely.
“Well, once I had a student, who ended up teaching me a trick or two. And that led me to some very interesting encounters.” He paused for a moment but all he heard was Elyne’s quick step at his side.
“What is in the past is in the past,” Sarfael said, his hand resting easy on Mavreen’s sword. “These days, I think the future is much more interesting.”
“And what is in the future?” Elyne asked.
“Ah,” said Sarfael with a twinkle in his eye. “Desperate work, hard fighting, countless adventures, and an official grant from Lord Neverember to sanctify it all.”
“And, just so I’m clear in my own mind about this, exactly who would be having these countless adventures?”
“Why you,” said Sarfael, draping a friendly arm across her shoulders, “and me. It’ll be the perfect partnership. You’ll see.”
Elyne’s laughter echoed down the street.
In the moonlight streaming through the open window in Dhafiyand’s room, the lady might be mistaken for a young girl, a beautiful moon elf, but then the shadows shifted and her nightmare face was revealed.
Valindra kneeled by the fireplace and shifted her cold hand through the dead ash. She lifted up the large emerald left behind.
Then she stood up and spoke a spell long forgotten by the living. The emerald shimmered and changed. A gleaming green woman stood before her.
“Speak!” Valindra commanded. “Does the crown of Neverwinter still exist?”
“Yes,” replied the emerald golem.
“Can you bring it to me?”
“No. Not without the box.”
Valindra scowled. Then her brow grew smooth. “But can you tell me where the crown is?”
“Yes,” said the golem.
With a satisfied smile, Valindra commanded the golem: “Then speak. Tell me how I can take the crown of Neverwinter for myself!”