Khelben's lecture went much faster, as Tsarra received images, memories, and knowledge relating to his topic as he sent.
A highly specific spell cast by someone touching a globe allowed one to fully mourn and remember a person recently passed, draining all their grief quickly and leaving them with a globe full of memories. In fact, with enough people embedding their memories and impressions of the deceased into a globe, one could touch the globe later to gain a sense of meeting the departed. They fell from use for centuries when desperate wizards after the Shoon Imperium's fall enchanted them to mind-rape wizards foolish enough to touch one. The keepers of Nykkar stopped making them about the time of the Warlord Laroun, and the mourning spells have been lost to most even longer. Laeral can bring Gamalon the sole surviving copy of Rituals for the Dead by Harun yi Nykkar from my personal library to study today.
She sent, And you just happened to have one of these lying around?
No, he replied. I have yet one more in reserve, which may be used all too soon.
Tsarra realized their entire mental discussion happened rapidly, and Khelben ended it just as Laeral finished speaking.
Khelben answered both her and Gamalon's lingering question. "It is as Laeral says, Excellency. I only wish it were not needed. I've only made nine of these in as many centuries, when I found myself or allies in dire need of mourning without the time to do so properly. There are two mourninglobes in the tower for two former wives. A third rests with her namesake granddaughter Cassandra at the Thann villa. Yet another lies within my first son's tomb in the City of the Dead, untouched in eleven-score years. A fifth has some notoriety, as it mirrors Lhestyn's spirit, though I know not its whereabouts, thanks to the Shadow Thieves."
Gamalon stared at Khelben, exhausted but attentive, and Tsarra wondered about the history between the two men and the women in their lives. She could not grasp the despair gripping Gamalon, as she had long avoided any chance of losing herself in relationships. She had had lovers, including three fellow apprentices, over the years. She always remained pragmatic about them, never letting them get too close. Ever since her father died, she never wanted to feel that pain of loss again. Her reverie was broken by Gamalon's icy words leveled at Khelben.
"I have made many vows to you and through you to great causes, Blackstaff. You have had my trust and allegiance much of my life. If I had known the cost of those vows, I would never have promised them.
Never!" Gamalon appeared calm and quiet as he spoke, but Tsarra could feel the impact his words had on Khelben. "You gave me my 'eye' fifty years ago, hinting it had a great destiny and warning me it could be a great burden. Did you know then this would happen?"
Khelben said, "I did not know the secrets of the gem might cost you so dearly, no."
Gamalon's hands trembled, though his voice remained steady. "Is there anything else with links to this lightning to strike tragedy at my family?"
"No," Khelben said. "What you bear as a kinsman and tel'teukiira, you bear with full knowledge of their abilities."
"Why didn't you tell me, Khelben?" Gamalon pleaded. "I've paid the price with blood-I deserve to know what that bought!" The count pounded the table as tears began to flow again from his right eye.
"Yes, you do, as does Tsarra," Khelben replied. "Unfortunately, the time for such revelations is not yet here, and I need to ask your patience."
"Promise me, Blackstaff," Gamalon said. "Reveal every secret that cost me my wife. Swear by whatever you hold holy."
"You shall know the truth, blood of my blood, and the redemption and peace that shall come from Mynda's unfortunate death." Khelben's sorrow was genuine, Tsarra felt through their link, but even Laeral was agape at Khelben's vows. "This I swear by the silver in my veins, by the Weave, and by the emerald eyes of my daughter Kessydra, your ancestor. Do you need me to pledge by the Nine who Remain, the Six Argent Guardians, or the Twelve Mysteries, among other things?"
"No. Enough. Potent vows, those." Gamalon sighed. "To be honest, I expected equivocation, not a straight answer with vows holy enough to bind a temple elder." The count leaned on the table and exhaled. "I shall assume there is more you need of me, or else you'd have taken me directly to Tethyr." "There is, I'm afraid," Khelben replied. "Tsarra and I must away to unavoidable errands, while Laeral shows you Harun's tome and leaves you to grieve in private. Later, she will fill you in on the preparations, but for today, rest and honor Mynda's memory.
Both Tsarra and I know how devastating that lightning can be, and we'll all need to be ready for a high magic ritual on the Feast of the Moon." Tsarra exclaimed, "High magic? Khelben?" Gamalon said, "You have an unmatched gift for keeping allies and enemies alike guessing, Blackstaff." "Mynda may be gone, Gamalon," Khelben said, "but her friendly spirit shall be with us two nights hence, to see a working unseen in anyone's living memory."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
29 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR) Tsarra fumed as she and Khelben waited in the antechamber outside of the private office of Lord Maskar Wands. Despite her sendings and verbal pleadings, Khelben refused to divulge any more information since they'd left the tower.
For the last time, Tsarra, it was hardly safe for me to divulge what I did inside the walls of Blackstaff Tower. To utter it outside invites foolishness at the very least. Khelben's sending carried a grim resolve. You will know everything soon enough. Mystra demands my silence for now, but I can tell you one thing. The weight of these secrets can adversely effect events in the interim, so for now they remain unsaid. Now, comport yourself a little better than your tressym. I saw him chase Olanhar's familiar into one of the outbuildings.
The pair of them had come to the Wands villa on Shando Street by a public carriage at Khelben's insistence, "To give the gossip-mongers something on which to chew." The manor and grounds were awhirl with activity, as the staff and family prepared for Lord Maskar Wands's one hundred and thirtieth birthday the following day. Two stewards immediately led Khelben and Tsarra to the chamber, in which they had been standing for only a short while when a spiral mosaic on the floor began to glow. Rising from the spiral as if he merely walked up a staircase, Lord Maskar Wands appeared before them. Or at least, his head and shoulders did. The magically embedded noble turned and beamed at them.
Lord Maskar's voice was a pleasant baritone that sounded far younger than his appearance. He spoke at a rapid-fire staccato pace, but Tsarra couldn't tell if he was particularly excited or if that was his normal behavior.
"A surprise, this is, Blackstaff. You're not one to advertise your comings and goings, so you startled me when your mark appeared on my glass." His voice dropped to a whisper when he asked, "A new blackstaff, Khelben?"
"Aye, 'tis new, milord Wands." Khelben replied.
Tsarra realized she had not noticed the change in his staff, nor that he had not carried one since the accident. It was not the gnarled and ragged, blackened wood staff she saw then. The polished blackstaff was shod on the ends with golden metal that entwined the staff like veins. In fact, it looked as if it were black stone with marble-like veins of gold, the metal protecting the ends of the staff.
Another secret you've neglected to share with me, Khelben? she inquired silently.
Lord Wands beckoned, his arm coming free from beneath the floor.
"I want to see that, then. Come down to my workshop, will you? We won't be disturbed by servants or exasperating relatives. You remember the passwords to my study doors, of course." With that, he turned in his place and disappeared into the floor.