Caledan shook his head and laughed, a hard, bitter sound. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "If I'm afraid to pay a visit to Morhion the mage, it's only because I fear I will kill him the instant I lay eyes on him." Caldorien turned and stomped upstairs, leaving her alone.

He had been like this ever since their visit to the monastery in the Sunset Mountains three days before. It had rained in heavy, cold sheets the entire journey back. At least they had not encountered the black-robed assassin again, but then it would have been impossible for anyone to follow their tracks in the torrential weather.

Mari sighed and sank into a chair by the fire, resting her head in her hands. Caldorien could make her feel so weary. Sometimes she wished she could forget him, forget Iriaebor, forget the Harpers and simply return to Elturel. But she had knelt on the cold earth by Master Andres's tomb the day she had left, and she had promised her mentor she would be strong. How could she give up now?

Mari felt a hand grip her shoulder. She looked up in surprise to see Ferret regarding her with his dark, close-set eyes.

"Ferret, I didn't know you were here. I thought… I thought Caledan and I were alone."

The wiry thief smiled crookedly. "I'm sorry. It's a habit Sneaking around, that is."

She tried to return his smile but failed miserably. His pointed nose twitched, his expression speculative. "You heard?" she asked.

Ferret shrugged. "Of course." He pulled up a chair and drew out a dagger, carefully sharpening the edge with a small whetstone. Mari regarded him curiously, wondering what the thief wanted. Of all the members of the old Fellowship, Ferret was the one she understood least. Why the rogue had ever thrown his lot in with a Harper in the first place she couldn't imagine.

The room was dim save for the flickering glow emanating from the hearth- Ferret continued to sharpen his knife. Suddenly Mari realized he was waiting-waiting for her to ask something. "Tell me about the mage Morhion," she said finally. "I need to know, to understand why Caldorien hates him so."

Ferret set down the whetstone. He tested the dagger's edge with a thumb, spun the blade experimentally on a fingertip, and nodded in satisfaction. He scratched his stubbly chin thoughtfully, his dark eyes glimmering in the firelight.

"Hate is a simple thing, Man," he said finally in his raspy voice. "If you hate someone, you act on it." He thrust the dagger into the wood of the table for emphasis. She flinched at the sudden motion. "That's what I do anyway. Of course, I'm just a thief. But then, I think the same is true for anybody." He worked the dagger free and slipped it into a hidden sheath inside his brown tunic. "But you know, I don't think Caledan does hate Morhion. After all, once they were the best of friends." He brushed the scar the knife had left on the surface of the table. "It's just that sometimes old wounds are hard to erase."

'Tell me, please," Mari said, leaning forward.

"I'm no storyteller."

He started to rise, but Mari reached out and gripped his hand. "Please."

He looked at her in surprise, then shrugged and sat back down. "You know about Kera?" For a moment Mari thought she saw a look of sorrow flicker across the thief's usually imperturbable face. But it was only the firelight, she supposed.

"Yes. Estah told me. Ravendas murdered her." "There's not much to tell after that," Ferret went on. "After her army disbanded, Ravendas fled back to Dark-hold, the Zhentarim fortress in the Far Hills. Caledan followed."

"But why?"

“To kill her, of course. I was ready to go myself. I had my daggers all sharpened and poisoned." Ferret sighed wistfully. "But Caledan forbade me, and I… well, I figured it was the least I could do, to obey his wishes. He wanted to punish Ravendas alone. I can't really blame him for that, though I myself wouldn't have minded sticking a knife in her." The thief's words sounded nonchalant, but there was a murderous look in his dark gaze that startled Mari.

"Caledan actually made it into Darkhold," Ferret continued. "That's no mean feat, by the way. There isn't a fortress in a thousand leagues more heavily guarded. But there was one who ignored Caledan's orders and followed after him."

"Morhion?" Mari whispered.

Ferret nodded. "The mage Morhion. And it was the fault of the mage that the two of them were discovered within Darkhold. They were forced to flee before Caledan could confront Ravendas. And by what secret route they managed to escape the fortress, I would give my left hand to know. There are any number of thieves who would pay quite a sum in gold in exchange for that particular information." "Why did Morhion follow Caledan to Darkhold?" Ferret shook his head. He didn't know. "To help Caledan? To hinder him? Who can say, with the mage? Thieves may be treacherous, Mari, but at least with us you always know where you stand. No one ever really knew what Morhion's motives were, except himself, I reckon."

Mari bit her lip in thought. "So Morhion's actions prevented Caledan from gaining his revenge upon Ravendas?" "Exactly."

"And Caledan has never forgiven the mage for that?" "Or himself."

The two were silent for a time. Finally Mari reached out and touched the gouge that Ferret's dagger had made in the wood of the table. "Estah will be mad at you for this, you know."

The thief smiled, displaying crooked teeth. "I know. But she'll forgive me."

Mari paused a moment. "Do you think Caledan will ever forgive Morhion?"

Ferret gazed at her flatly.

"No."

Mari barely saw Caledan at all the next day. He shut himself in his room upstairs after breakfast and did not emerge. Mari helped Estah in the kitchen during the morning and occupied the afternoon with her baliset, strumming softly as Pog and Nog listened drowsily until finally they drifted to sleep on a rug before the fire. It was verging on evening when Caledan appeared suddenly at the foot of the stairs, walking purposefully into the inn's back room. "Get your cloak, Harper," he said. "Where are we going, Uncle Caledan?" Pog asked in a sleepy voice, looking up at him.

"Finish your nap, Pog. You, too, Nog," Caledan told the halfling children. "Mari and I are going to visit someone, that's all."

Mari looked at Caledan in curiosity. "Well, we have to get a look at that damnable book, don't we?" he told her gruffly.

Mari set down her baliset and pulled her cloak about her shoulders. "I wasn't arguing." "That's a change."

The two slipped down the back alley behind the inn and into the city, making certain they weren't observed.

Mari was thankful Caledan had changed his mind. Now they just had to find the mage. None of the companions had seen Morhion in the last seven years, but they knew the place to start looking for him was the laboratory tower to which he had moved after the Fellowship disbanded. The tower stood on the eastern side of the Tor on the Street of Runes, not far from the Temple of Selune. By the time they reached the quiet avenue, the westering sun had sunk behind the tower of the city lord, casting a premature twilight over the Street of Runes.

Caledan brought Man to a halt.

The tower was dilapidated. Dead vines clutched at the timeworn stones like skeletal fingers trying to pry the walls apart. Weeds and witchgrass grew wildly amidst the piles of rubble that had tumbled down from the tower's crumbling buttresses. The high windows stared out over the city like dark, empty eyes, and the peaked roof looked as if it had caved in years ago. A pall hung over the place, a mantle of dusty silence, of decay.

"This is it," Caledan said grimly. "Or was it, anyway."

Man shook her head. It looked as if Morhion's tower had been long abandoned.