"No offense-I mean, I appreciate this and all-but you two didn't plan this escape all that well, did you?" Ferret asked.

"Well we don't all have your extensive experience with escaping," Tyveris rumbled angrily. The big monk stood on the edge of the bridge and spread his arms in a mirror image of the priest of Cyric. He began chanting in a flowing, musical language, trying to drown out the evil priest's dark prayers. The gigantic statue stepped closer to Caledan, wounded guards crushed unnoticed beneath its feet. The statue of the king was still rising from its throne, reaching toward its full height, five times that of a man.

"Andebari al Oghma, al d'bai altanl" Tyveris roared. "In the Name of the Binder, may evil's enchantment be shattered!"

Suddenly the priest of Cyric let out a strangled cry. The circlet about the stone queen's brow flared brilliantly, shattering into countless splinters of stone. The statue halted Then slowly, almost gracefully, it toppled to the street smashing the cobbles as it struck, shaking the very foundations of the city.

But the statue of the king showed no such reaction. It continued to move toward Caledan, who dangled halfway up the rope.

"Hurry, Caledan!" Tyveris shouted down. His face looked ashen and haggard. "I dispelled the magic coursing through one of the statues, but I don't think I can break the enchantment in the other!"

Meanwhile, the priest of Cyric had regained his composure, and his chanting rippled forth once again as he gripped the steel amulet.

"Allow me," Ferret said. He took the knife Tyveris had used to cut the prisoners' ropes and hefted it experimentally, testing its weight. Then he let if fly with a precise, expert throw.

The priest's chanting abruptly stopped.

The flabby disciple of Cyric slipped from the back of his horse, Ferret's knife embedded deep in his throat. Blood flowed out to pool with the grime of the street. The purple glow of the amulet flickered, faded. The statue of the nameless king slowed to a halt.

Then a rivulet of the dead priest's blood trickled across the steel amulet. The dark blood hissed and steamed. The purple aura strengthened and grew brilliant once again. Blood flowed more quickly toward the amulet now, defying gravity as it rose from the cobbles to the evil symbol.

The stone king began to move, once more, toward Caledan.

"Uh-oh," was all Ferret said.

The statue of the king reached out a hand of granite to crush Caledan.

Caledan's arms were going numb. He wasn't going to make it.

"Break the king's circlet, Caledan!" Tyveris bellowed. "It's the heart of its power!"

The stony fingers, each as thick as a tree branch, began to close about Caledan. There wasn't time to think. Holding on to the rope with one hand, he drew his sword. Just as the cold, hard fingertips brushed against his chest he swung the rope forward and brought the hilt of his sword down on the circlet resting on the statue's brow.

His hand was thrown back painfully with the force of the blow. The sword clattered to the street far below. The stony fingers closed about his chest, tightening until he could barely breathe-before shuddering to a stop.

His blow had cracked the king's crown. Brilliant purple sparks flared about the dark fissure, sizzling like lightning. The violet glow wavered, then vanished. The gigantic statue lurched precariously to one side. Caledan tried to free himself from its grip, but he was stuck in its grasp. The stone king started to topple.

"Oh, no you don't," Tyveris growled. The loremaster, his chest against the bridge, reached down, just managing to grab Caledan's collar. Caledan felt himself pulled roughly from the stone king's grasp as the statue fell next to its queen. With a grunt Tyveris hauled him up onto the bridge.

Caledan groaned. His shoulders and chest felt as if they were on fire. "I am really far too old for this," he managed between gasps.

"So are we all," Tyveris rumbled wearily, rubbing his aching temples. Breaking the priest's enchantment had left him exhausted.

"Speak for yourself," Ferret replied in his raspy voice, his dark eyes shining.

Caledan could have, he would have strangled the little thief.

The trio made their way westward along a mazework of bridges far above the city streets. Some Zhentarim tried to follow, but the smokepowder blast had blocked the western exit from the plaza. The three companions quickly left the turmoil of the square behind.

Finally they descended to a quiet side street. Estah, clad in simple peasant garb, sat on the bench of a farmer's wagon filled with straw, holding the reins to a pair of ponies. Man was with her.

"Ferret!" Estah cried out in joy at the sight of the thief. He bowed deeply in response.

"What took you so long?" Man asked, her eyes flashing. Caledan and Tyveris exchanged a weary look. "I really don't think you'd believe us, Harper." She laughed. "You're probably right." "We'd better go," Estah warned. "The guards will be coming this way soon enough."

No one argued with the healer. Caledan, Mari, Tyveris, and Ferret burrowed themselves deep into the concealing straw in the bed of the wagon, and Estah flicked the reins. The wagon clattered down the street.

Estah was right. Minutes later a pair of hard-faced Zhentarim warriors pounded on their chargers down the street. However, all they saw was a halfling farmer driving her wagon to market. They swore as they continued on, knowing that if they didn't find the troublemakers Lord Cutter was going to have their heads.

Eight

Twilight crept on soft, padded feet into the garden behind the Dreaming Dragon. Mari sat on a stone bench, watching as the pale crescent of the moon rose above the city's spires, its silken light glimmering off the moon-and-harp pin she wore on her jacket. The faint, sweet scent of the first crocuses hung upon the cool evening air, and the mourning doves that nested in the branches of an ancient oak tree sang their gentle song. She folded the piece of parchment she held and slipped it into her pocket. It was a missive from the Harpers.

She had managed to slip away to the free market in the New City that afternoon to meet the messenger, but later Caledan had nearly caught her reading the secret communication. That would not have been good. The missive came from the hand of Belhuar Thantarth, from Twilight Hall in Berdusk. Continue your close contact with Caldorien, the Hussive had instructed her. However, he is not to discover from you what we already know. His resentment of the Harpers runs far too deep for him to believe what we have learned. He must discover the importance of the shadow magic himself.

Mari heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and looked up to see the big loremaster, Tyveris. He smiled broadly as he walked toward her, his teeth white in the moonlight, and Mari could not help but smile in return. There was a gentleness about the priest of Oghma despite his size, and he seemed perpetually good-natured.

"Estah would not be pleased if you caught a chill out here, Mari," Tyveris said reprovingly, though as always there was a kindly note in his voice. He held out a midnight blue cloak and wrapped it about her shoulders. Mari tensed for a second when she realized that the cloak was Caledan's, then she relaxed. Tyveris meant well, and besides, he was right. The air was chilly, and she had been shivering.

"Thank you, Tyveris," she said, pulling the cloak tightly about herself.

"It really isn't safe to be out here so long, you know." Tyveris's dark eyes were concerned behind his spectacles. "The Zhentarim are combing the city for us after our exploits yesterday. Ferret's already… er… disposed of one guard who ventured too near the inn. You should come inside."