Tsarra repeated the eighteen stanzas in her head, shuddering at the awful rhymes but focusing on what they said. "That man I saw outside the tower! He had one of them, obviously. Wait-do you have a copy of Selchant's Catalogue of Swords Enchanted here? I want to check a hunch." "Fourth row of Shelf G, red leather binding-the only one without singe marks on it." Tsarra hadn't noticed before but each massive set of bookshelves was marked by an Elvish letter, and the G sigil glowed faintly to show her where to look. After a few moments of page flipping, Tsarra grinned. "I knew it! He's carrying Rhoban's Diamond Blade, isn't he? That's the first 'dream' in the sixth stanza!" "Indeed. Congratulations on your deduction. So few of my students bother to learn the Vilhon Reach histories, let alone its prehistories in the Twelve Cities of Swords," Khelben said. "Not one of the twelve ruling blades, you know, but certainly a blade of distinction. One wonders if its current bearer is as noble as Rhoban himself." Tsarra put the catalog aside and looked again on Rhaelnar's book. " 'Dream next of the forceful hand that wrested hope for a waveswept, deepwater land?' I'd guess the seventh stanza refers to Raurlor's Ring, here in Waterdeep?" "Indeed." Khelben muttered, searching through the piles on the table for something. "The tenth stanza refers to a glistening girdle, so I'll just take a wild stab in the dark and suggest it's this belt I've worn for two days now."

Khelben nodded, his brow knitted in concentration as he blew smoke shapes. She'd seen him do that with Elminster, whose facility with it created elaborate murals of smoke with moving figures. Khelben only managed to create a smoky image of the belt she wore. "I don't suppose you could tell me what it is? My knowledge of elven artifacts is lacking, despite my blood." Khelben shook his head and said, "Another time, we'll look into it together and you can prove to me you can do research. Now, what of Rhaelnar's Legacy? What else do we know?"

Tsarra continued, thinking aloud, "The next stanza that makes any sense to me-'Sleep again to see your goal apparent. In the laughter of the lyre can one find the Legacy penned.'-is an awful stretch for a rhyme. The context of the earlier stanzas, though, hints that we're looking for a golden scroll. 'Laughter of the lyre?' Are we looking for music written on gold? That's not a topic I know much about."

"Neither do I, and I've had more time than you to learn. That item, I believe, is close at hand, but we must wait until late tonight to retrieve it, lest we disturb too many pious brethren. Continue,"

Khelben said, still searching for a parchment. "What is it? You know where it is?" Tsarra asked. "I know where all of these sundries are, Tsarra. I would hardly be the archmage of Waterdeep if I did not. The question remains how much you have gleaned of all this." Tsarra felt her pulse jump in anger, and her exasperation seemed to infect her familiar. The tressym, having grown bored with chasing the glowglobe, alighted upon a pile of tomes, which quickly collapsed beneath him, and he tumbled off the table. Correcting his fall and taking to the air again, the tressym flew up atop one of the nearby bookshelves and settled in, as if he'd planned that all along. Tsarra felt his surprise and embarrassment but her horror at his disturbing Khelben's research overshadowed that until she saw his eyes never left her face.

Khelben steepled his fingers and said, "Tsarra, as your teacher, I need to test your understanding of the situations and my edification as to how well you will do without my tutelage. After all, you need to graduate beyond Blackstaff Tower, and it seems this current emergent situation presents itself as your final examination." "You're forcing me to leave the Tower? Because I'm losing my patience over too many unanswered questions?" The tressym's growl and lashing tail audible from across the chamber underscored Tsarra's irritation. "Calm down, Tsarra, lest you slip into another vision. Your temper sets off those visions, doesn't it? Whenever you lose your focus on the immediate, Dantha's gift for visions taps into my memories. Whereas I already remember my experiences and dismiss the memory, Dantha's visions force-feed you the whole experience from the briefest flashes of my recall." "So what I saw-that battle in the Eightower…" "Yes, that was a memory. In fact, that was the place we were to visit last night, before your vision and our side trip to Rassalantar changed our path."

"But I've met Tandar, the so-called Green Wizard of Sea Ward, and he's over a century old! How could you know him as a young man?" "After all you've learned here, do you truly still believe me to be the son of Lhestyn and Zelphar?" Khelben's eyes went wide with surprise. "You're smarter than that, even if I do keep up that pretense at all times for the emotional comfort of the common folk. Zelphar was my son." "So you're really Khelben the Elder?" "Among other names I have worn, yes." "Why tell me your secret now?" "Because you already suspect it, and thanks to this mishap of bound souls and that gem, will always know it. Even if I manage to save Danthra's soul after dealing with Rhaelnar's Legacy, I suspect my memories will remain with you in that kiira forevermore. Still, our conversation wanders onto paths best trod later. Do you have any other deductions on the poem?" "Hang the poem, Khelben! Give me a moment to understand all this." "Time is the luxury in scarce supply now, my dear. The only time I have had to plan and think was when we were first laid low yesterday. While you remained unconscious, I worked on the kiira and tattooed your forehead to accept the gem's altered magic. Laeral contacted many agents to whom I've entrusted some secrets and other tasks. Some of them safeguard many of these Legacy artifacts. Those people in turn contacted their agents. We have already spoken with other key players in this drama, and we'll contact more soon." "But you still haven't told me what's going on. How do you know what to do?" "My plans have been in place for centuries. Those who needed to know anything ahead of time did so, either by my hand or Mystra's." "Mystra's hand?" "I've had portents sent in my dreams from the goddess in past months. They share a chronic imagery of threes, lightning bolts, and the city's seal. These dreams recurred frequently enough that I knew the message came from her. I simply had to eliminate any other possible explanations or options before I knew the Legacy was the key." "So that's why you've been attending nobles' parties for the past year! I thought that was out of character for you, since I remembered you only attended those functions you couldn't avoid, such as Thann family gatherings or functions at the palace." "I certainly don't enjoy them, no. Even family parties are endurable only for brief moments.

Unfortunately, now the lords Agundar, Cragsmere, Ilitul, Ilzimmer, Jhansczil, and Gauntyl all believe me a close personal friend for my attentions." Khelben shook his head sadly and ran his hands through his hair, shaking off frustration. "So Mystra doesn't tell you everything as you need the information?" "She would hardly be the Lady of Mysteries, were that so. Even this new Mystra understands that. No, she only leaves me with hints and reminders of previous omens, including some I haven't seen since the day I was Chosen. Your face-tattoos and kiira and all-was one of those." "You knew all this would happen? You've known this was coming for sixteen years?" "I've known something would happen for fourscore decades, Tsarra. I only knew, after we first met and I recognized you, what you were called.

I've known for ages that you would have an important role to play for Mystra and her Weave. Beyond that, I don't know your fate in this venture." "But you seem to know everything about Rhaelnar's Legacy."

Khelben snorted. "That's because I made that all up. Only those fools who believe in it think they can find the Nether Scrolls by chasing down its clues. It is a logic-trap to hide a greater secret and to draw out those who might try and usurp power not rightfully theirs."