"Hmm," replied Japheth. "What about the clapper?"

"It has none."

"Ah. How does pne enter?"

Neifion said, "It doesn't surprise me a moron like you couldn't figure that out. The entire bottom is open—it's called a moon well. Means entrance and view port all in one. This trek bell has two chambers, each large enough for a couple of travelers of your size. Easily large enough to accommodate you and me, and perhaps a servitor or two."

Japheth kneeled by the bell and looked beneath, careful not to dislodge the wooden blocks. The bell's bottom was wide open, save for a central bulwark dividing the open space in two. Each half chamber contained a curving seat, apparently for passengers. "Hmm." He did not really understand how it could work.

"You mentioned earlier," said Japheth, allowing his hand to glide along the bell's cool, smooth surface, "that you knew of an entity who would lower us in this?"

Neifion flicked his arms in a manner reminiscent of a bat fluttering its wings. "Yes. Are we ready to depart?"

"Nearly." Japheth clapped his hands and concentrated.

A flurry of winged forms swept into the chamber, followed by one of the homunculi he had chased away earlier. Apparently it hadn't gone far. The warlock pointed at the wrinkled little man and said, "Prepare a pack for me that includes two tendays' worth of dried food from the pantry. Make it a large pack with extra space.

Don't forget water!"

The homunculus scurried off, but the bats continued to flit around the chamber.

Neifion frowned. He didn't like to be reminded who actually held the reins of power in Darroch Castle. Too bad, thought Japheth.

They waited in silence. Neifion stared at Japheth, grinning with his needle-sharp teeth. The creature was happy to be free and would fight like the monster he was when it was time for Japheth to seat him again before the Feast Never Ending. Trying to imagine how he might accomplish that made the warlock's stomach hurt. The Lord of Bats wouldn't fall for the same trick twice, but it wouldn't do to leave the creature free to plot. Perhaps he would have to slay Neifion. That would strip all of Japheth's power... which wasn't an option. As soon as Japheth lost his power and patron, his addiction to traveler's dust would overwhelm him. If Japheth was to live, so must the Lord of Bats, even though the creature spent all his spare moments devising plans against the warlock.

No wonder his stomach hurt.

The homunculus returned to the chamber, hauling a large pack behind it. Japheth hoisted the pack and looked inside. The creature had done as he had asked. He sent the pack into his cloak. aI'm ready, Neifion. Get on with it."

The Lord of Bats's grin stretched wider. He was a grotesque creature, Japheth reflected. Nightmarish. And of the fey, who were known to be duplicitous. If the Lord of Bats could twist his oath or shuck himself free of it completely, he would do so without compunction. Neifion burst into a chant, his voice melodious and heavy. "O divine servant, I summon you by virtue of the pacts sworn by your masters and by the divine knowledge given me through their intervention. I conjure you by the articles of those pacts, which mark and express the strictures you cannot ignore. I conjure you by the name Mapathious, your true name—that I, having pronounced it, and I, having secured the agreement of your masters, may summon you."

The warlock listened and watched.

When Neifion fell silent, Japheth looked around. The homunculus crouched beneath the bell as if hiding. The bats he'd earlier summoned swirled one last time around the chamber and fled through the open door.

Wind screamed through the chamber, and light burst from a point in the air two paces from the Lord of Bats.

The point of brilliance swelled instantly, forming the shape of a large creature with wings of molten fire. It was humanoid, but only just. Porcelain white skin made its featureless face a mask, but for eyes the color of a glacier. The creature's lower body trailed away into ethereal mist, but its torso and arms were protected by elaborate golden plate armor. A sword of quivering lava matching its wings was clutched in one hand.

aAn angel of exploration," said Neifion. aIt will serve me, for a time. Long enough to ferry us in the trek bell to our destination."

The creature flexed its wings, dripping sizzling gobbets of magma on the floor.

"Will it answer to me?" inquired Japheth. He concentrated, looking for an answer to his own question. He sensed none of the lines of connection he usually was able to fumble for when accessing the Lord of Bats's abilities.

"You'll not leave me behind so easily," said Neifion. "The angel answers to me, and that is not a bargain I can alter. As we originally agreed, I will be accompanying you on your journey. I am your newly minted ally, and I want to personally help you achieve the success you so richly deserve."

"I'm sure."

"As your ally, I can do no less."

Japheth frowned. But he produced from his pouch the iron ring that contained a strand of Anusha's hair. "This'll help your angel find Xxiphu. The dream of her to whom it belongs is trapped there."

CHAPTER NINE

The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Green Siren docked in Veltalar, Aglarond

Raidon sat, his back against the port rail with his legs folded, watching the wizard.

Seren paced Green Siren's deck. She paused, bent, and with quick strokes made a change to a sigil she'd chalked earlier The alteration was too subtle for Raidon to tell any real difference. The sigil was just one of hundreds that, in sum, formed a wide circle of arcane script in the open area between the central masts.

Seren scribed, Raidon watched, and every so often Thoster turned up with a vaguely worried expression. He heard Green Siren's crew going about general repairs and, farther off, other ships on the dock being loaded and unloaded. The squealing cries of gulls were an omnipresent counterpoint.

The monk knew the broad outline of Seren's plan to enhance the ship, she said she could make it briefly able to travel the deeps. Something to do with creating the proper resonance between the ship, its crew, and the elemental creatures she hoped to summon.

Raidon was content to watch, but Thoster kept popping up to pester the wizard. And... there he was again. The monk fixed the captain with a scowl, but the man failed to notice.

"What's that for?" said Thoster.

Seren had replaced her chalk with an odiferous fish corpse. It was the gleamtail jack she'd retrieved from the pool on Gethshemeth's isle. She bent, and with a wide stroke gave one of the sigils a greasy highlight.

The captain said, "I doubt that's sanitary."

Raidon considered asking Thoster to stop bothering Seren. She had things in hand and didn't need distractions.

Watching the woman eye each symbol critically before moving to the next, he decided to remain silent. If she were perturbed, she would tell Thoster to leave off herself. She wasn't shy.

He recalled his and Seren's visit to Rose Keep and recognized again he didn't know much about the wizard. He wondered why she'd decided to renounce Thay...

Raidon breathed out and tried once more to let go of worry and embrace his focus. He had a quest to fulfill.

Nothing else really mattered. Seren rolled a scroll out on a barrelhead and fixed the ends down with ballast stones. The gleamtail jack had stained her white clothing with streaks of green and brown. He couldn't recall ever seeing the woman's garments so dirty before.

The wizard noticed him looking, and with a wink and a whispered syllable, her gown was as unsoiled as ever.

She said, aDon*t worry, Raidon. I'm usually clean as the driven snow."

"Ah... good to know." "Hey," said Thoster, "done?"

"With the preparations. Now comes the incantation. Performing this part of the ritual will require another few hours, I think. It's hard to say for certain."