The battle paused, and Raegar listened rather than leaping in to aid a no longer trusted ally.

"Now, creature, tell me why you bother me," Damlath asked. "There is no mention of guardians within Rhaelnar's Legacy."

"We know of no Rhaelnar… Guardiansssss ussssss…" the creature hissed. "Lightning and sssstormsssss awaken ussss… Awaken from Ssslumber Willing… and remember…"

"Remember what? I know you to be sharn, creatures of power and mystery. I have no qualms about killing you if your answers prove pitiful." Damlath closed his right hand, and the aquamarine globes pulled slowly together, wreathing the sharn's form in greenish arcs of energy. All its heads roared, as did at least half the mouths along its arms and trunk.

"Look, little creature," said the sharn, "into our mind, if you dare."

Damlath laughed, but it was hollow and angry, unlike the joyful mirth Raegar liked to hear. "Don't mistake me for a fool of short years, sharn. I know enough to not risk my sanity delving into your heads."

"The Awakening isss upon usss… You quicken sssoulsss without knowing what you do… The remnantsss ssspark and affect our mindsss … remind usss of ourssselvesss… The powersss that ssstir usss fragment our mind into many… bring pain memory…"

Raegar watched the sharn intently, its voice growing melancholy.

Raegar also noticed random faces pushing forth from the sharn's skin as it spoke, though the speech still came from its massive unfeatured heads atop its torso.

Damlath shook his arms in anger at the creature and said, "I could care not a whit for your minds, save what they hold. The remnants-tell me more about them! I have many of them but not all. Tell me more about them, that I may claim more than one Nether Scroll."

Raegar's brow knitted. Damlath had never expressed any interest before in the ancient lore of Netheril, let alone tracking down the sources of their ancient magic. In fact, Raegar knew Damlath loved history but willfully ignored the North's wizardly history over that of the southern Lands of Intrigue.

The exchange confirmed to Raegar that the man posing as Damlath was an imposter. The rogue looked around to see if the wizard-whoever he was-had set up a camp or at least had laid down any of the artifacts they had been collecting. He didn't see any, but a light purple glow of sparkles began forming well behind the wizard.

A black-skinned pair of four-clawed hands slid from the cluster of purple sparks and began to trace mystic symbols in the air. Small mouths at the center of the palms whispered arcane words. A beam of orange light shone from the pair of hands and enveloped the southern mage, whose form shimmered and shattered. The illusory Damlath fell away and Raegar saw his true form.

The wizard wore olive-green robes trimmed with gold runes, a hood drawn up around his face, even though Damlath's face had previously appeared exposed. The wizard turned and spotted both Raegar and the sharn's additional hands and began to laugh. The rogue gasped as he saw the wizard's hands were skeletal, as was most of his head. All that remained of his face was a shred of grayish-black skin across his forehead and down the right side of his face. Red energies glinted within dark eyesockets, suggesting eyes where no physical orbs remained. Around his torso and over his olive robes, the lich wore a harness made of black leather and a large round silver plate covered in runes.

Raegar had fought undead wizards and sorcerers before, and he knew that this lich had been impersonating Damlath, but for how long?

"Ah, Raegar. So now you know, little thief. Inconvenient. You've been a useful pawn even more unwitting than that dullard at the temple," the lich said, its jaws moving without lips and pantomiming magically produced speech. "Still, before this creature strips me of more than base illusions…"

The lich that was Damlath gestured quickly, and ice-blue bolts rocketed into the free sharn hands. Raegar was close enough to note the rapid drop in temperature and the ice and frost that clung to the once-moist black hide. The purple sparks winked out as the hands receded through them, and Raegar saw some frost appear on the sharn behind the lich, even though Damlath hadn't cast on it directly.

"Impressive, sharn. Your ability to bypass a spell designed to inhibit spellcasters is intriguing. I will learn that secret from you as well, but not before you tell me more of the remnants."

"You merely ssserve to awaken, not to claim any treasssure, little lich. We hide enigmasss far older than you, and thossse who pry never benefit from it." The sharn seemed to smile, its eyeless heads all turning toward the lich and baring their teeth.

Raegar stepped forward, brandishing both his swords before him in a defensive cross. He knew he didn't have the power to stop either creature, but he hoped to keep the lich's attention on him to perhaps allow the sharn to attack again. Raegar felt cold as he realized his friend had either become undead or was dead and had been replaced.

"Are you Damlath and damned," he asked, "or are you the bastard that killed him?"

Once Raegar stepped fully into the chamber and toward the lich, the Diamondblade spat a shower of blue sparks, as did a ring on the lich's left hand. Raegar stopped dead in his tracks, and the lich stepped back and behind the fallen chandelier, putting the hovering sharn between them. The sparks ceased.

"Your friend Damlath died swearing oaths too, rather than having useful spells with which to fight for his life. If it's any consolation, he died with the Binder's name on his lips."

Raegar froze as the death of his friend became reality. The only weapon he had that might affect this creature was one he had given him-the Diamondblade. Since it was obvious the short sword was important to the lich, Raegar made a split-second decision and dived toward the doorway. He heard one syllable in the lich's raspy voice and sensed the magic hit him. Though he remained facing the doorway, unmoving, Raegar felt as if he had been slammed hard against the wall.

He stood stunned and trapped in his own body.

"Ah, ah, ah," the lich mocked. "No, bring that closer, young Raegar. You've been such a useful tool these past few months. Show the sharn what we have here."

The undead wizard gestured again, its skeletal fingers beckoning, and Raegar felt the Diamondblade twist in and rip from his grasp, even though the effort turned his stunned form around toward the sharn. The moment the blade crossed into the larger center of the room, it both reflected some moonlight from the skylight up above and mirrored sparks along with the ring on the lich's hand.

The lich floated the sword directly into the sharn, point-first, and it unleashed a shriek reminding Raegar of a sword crashing against a shield. The blue sparks joined the other magic and danced across the sharn's form. The sharn's own movements pulled the greenish energy globes closer, and their energies also spilled across its liquid form, invoking a mournful moan that sounded like five or six wounded people and animals at once. Raegar flexed his muscles in hopes of shaking off the magic and fleeing into the wilderness rather than face these two creatures. He managed two slow steps before the lich's magic placed a heavy wall of ice over his exit.

"No, boy. I still have tasks for you, and secrets to cull from this creature as well. Sometimes, though, it's sensible to make it clear you have your audience's attentions."

The lich pulled the sparking ring off its hand while he spoke, setting it on the floor where he stood. He gestured with one hand toward a doorway hidden from Raegar's sight, beckoning something or someone forward. The lich moved around and set the sparking Diamondblade on the floor as well.

Raegar held back when he saw the sparks building, but stepped around in hope of discovering another exit beyond the front door behind the lich. He spotted the skeleton lurching forward, a small green gem alive with more sparks resting on a dusty, threadbare pillow.