The Lost Library of Cormanthyr (4 page)

1

We’ve been followed.

Resting his shovel in the dark, fresh-turned earth of the tree-covered hillside, Baylee Arnvold gazed up at his companion. We weren’t followed.

I told you back at Waymoot that I thought it was a possibility.

Yes, you did, Xuxa, Baylee replied calmly in the telepathic communication that his companion excelled in, and the candle maker that you believed to be following us had the scare of his life when I jumped him in the alley behind Beruintar’s Bone Warmer. If I hadn’t been worn out from doing without sleep over the past days, I would never have fallen for your paranoia.

Have you ever noticed that you never call it my paranoia when I’m right? Xuxa sounded put out. She was an azmyth bat and had been with him for a handful of years, taking part in a number of excavations and explorations. She was three feet tall, twin-tailed, and her body colored emerald green, her wings only slightly lighter in color, like the beard at her throat. Her intelligence was high, but her telepathic communications with him usually interpreted themselves with his words to ease in understanding. Still, a few strictly bat-thoughts occasionally intruded into their conversations. She was his companion by choice, in no way a possession. Blessed with a life span of over a hundred years, she was decades older than Baylee and sometimes grew irritated that he did not give that more credence when they disagreed. Like now.

Baylee didn’t reply. His companion was right, but he’d be damned if he gave Xuxa the satisfaction of admitting it. At least, not right away.

He was following us. Xuxa sniffed in disdain, a delicate snuffling sound that hardly carried beyond their current site.

He was going to the back door of the inn to sell a tenday’s supply of candles.

The man got you to believe that. I am not so gullible. And here we are, out in the open on this hillock with no place to turn.

Baylee knew his companion was right about being alone. Seventeen miles north of Waymoot, six miles west of Ranger’s Way (the trail they’d followed into the city) there was no one around save a few hunters they’d passed hours ago. They’d taken pains to see that the hunters never saw them, even though he still didn’t believe they’d been followed. Still, there were many who would have killed for the piece of lore he hoped to uncover tonight.

He gazed at the surrounding forest, the setting sun adding a red and purple haze to the darkening sky. He felt at home here, though he’d only visited this part of Cormyr rarely. His true home in his heart was the Sword Coast, filled with all the old histories and wars that had left scars still to be found on the earth.

And there were the various treasures left to be uncovered as well. Those provided a siren call Baylee found irresistible. No matter how often he followed a barely tangible lead to a dead-end, every success, regardless how small, served to drive him on.

The wind shifted, blowing more toward Baylee. His sensitive nostrils picked up the faint scent that did not mix in well with the fragrance of the surrounding foliage.

You smell it too, Xuxa said.

Yes. Baylee admitted it readily. Mixed in with the scent of trees and blossoms and grasses, with the musk of wild deer going into season, he smelled human sweat. A few moments more, with the wind just right, and he would have known whether there was one or more, whether it was male or female.

Then it was gone.

The way the scent disappeared, with nothing visible on the horizon, let him know the disappearance was deliberate. The knowledge raised the hackles at the back of his neck. Even if he hadn’t admitted being wrong, Xuxa would sense his reaction and know. He cursed and turned his attention back to the shovel and the excavation he’d worked so diligently on for hours. His leather gloves and armor chafed at his sweat-drenched skin, and his muscles ached from days of hard travel and the effort of digging deep into the hillside.

He picked up the shovel and wiped his brow, as if he was reluctant to contemplate returning to his task. The whiff of the scent returned to his nostrils. This time he was sure: it was definitely feminine. A faint waft of Arabellan herb soap traveled with it, letting him know the stalker was no stranger to good, and expensive, hygiene. It was a solid clue to the stalker’s identity. Local brigands didn’t care much for cleanliness.

He took his waterskin from his pack on the ground and drank deeply, using the movement to mask his gaze roving over the surrounding tree line. Forests provided much in the way of natural hiding spots to someone who knew how to use them. And evidently the person or persons stalking him knew the wind changed and took steps to prevent being found out.

Have you seen anyone? he asked his companion.

No.

Have they seen you?

I don’t think so.

Good. Then let’s keep it that way. Baylee dropped the waterskin back to the pack.

The hole he’d dug was precious little more than broad enough to accommodate his shoulders. He’d hauled the loose soil and rock out in a bucket he kept in a bag of holding in his pack. Determined effort allowed him to reach a depth of nine feet. By his own estimates, he could scarcely be more than inches away from his goal. The arrival of the stalker could not have been more ill-timed.

He made as if to climb back into the hole, hoping the slope of the hill and the mounded earth blocked him from view. He let go the shovel and slithered forward on his belly, taking care not to make noise. He marked time by counting heartbeats. Only a few minutes remained open to him to move before the watcher realized no sound of shovel blade cutting into the earth issued from the tunnel area.

He got to his feet behind a pine tree, hidden from the watcher’s point of view by the broad limbs. Anything? he asked.

No, Xuxa replied. Be patient. Be quiet.

Baylee gazed up at the tree where his companion held watch. Xuxa remained hidden even to his trained eye. But he knew the azmyth bat was sheltered in the tall cedar overlooking the dig.

Baylee moved lithely through the forest, relying on his ranger’s skills. Something short of six feet in height, and slender despite his broad shoulders, he wore his mane of black hair loose, tied back now by a rawhide headband stained deepest blue. Clad of the forest, he wore deerskin breeches, a sleeveless deerskin shirt, and knee-high moccasins crafted of jaculi skins. The particular tree snakes used in his boots were from poisonous boomslangs. The hides were supple, carefully crafted together, waterproof, and maintained some of their ability through magic to blend in with their surroundings from the lightest greens to the darkest black.

Bronze skin, kissed by tropical suns as well as the Sword Coast where he’d grown up, marked him as an outdoorsman. A handful of scars tracked his arms and face, leftover reminders of brushes with fang and claw, and weapons. His eyes gleamed harsh jade like a cat’s, captured in them the intensity of the wild.

He worked his way around the area he held suspect in his mind. Xuxa’s telepathic ability only extended sixty feet or so. In a few more strides, he would be out of the azmyth bat’s range, having only his own senses to depend on. The only weapon he carried was the dagger he used for meals, and to clean and skin wild game. He’d been trained by his mentor to rely on his wits, not the weapons most men carried about.

The lack of weapons, Fannt Golsway had often reiterated, made a man use his head. And it made him make certain his needs and wants were attended to by something more than a mere moment’s passion or a passing fancy. Of course, Golsway was also a mage. Baylee would have relished having some of the old man’s abilities at the moment rather than the meager few spells known to him through his ranger studies.

Xuxa’s telepathic voice interrupted Baylee’s thoughts, sending the ranger to ground. Someone eke is there.

Baylee peered through the thick cover of forest, still counting his heartbeats. The woman had to know by now that he was taking much too long. She would be getting nervous. He pricked his ears up as the wind washed gently around him, hoping to pick up a fragment of conversation if she spoke to anyone with her. Who?

A small group, I have not seen them, but I have seen their passage.

Turning his attention to the forest, Baylee noticed a raven take wing over a hundred yards away. Other birds rippled in an unsettled manner along a trail to the south, and the silence followed behind. The thick forest prevented view of the small party there, but Baylee believed that it had to be a group rather than an individual from the size of the disturbance. Separate from the first?

Yes.

Maybe we should consider discretion. Baylee froze behind a lightning-blasted ash that had maintained growth in the lower branches.

That would be my advice, Xuxa replied. Though you’ve seldom heeded it.

We’d be leaving the dig site open for them, clearly marked. Even from his position now, Baylee saw the dig site easily.

Perhaps nothing lies at the bottom of that abandoned well.

Neither of us believes that.

The bat gave a grudging reply. No.

Then there is no choice, Baylee said.

Maybe in your afterlife, you’ll be granted the ability to know if the leads you followed this time did indeed bear fruit. Even for a highly intelligent azmyth bat, Xuxa exhibited a disturbingly acidic sarcasm.

I can’t leave it.

I know. I’ll be with you, friend Baylee. Whatever you should need.

The bond between Baylee and Xuxa was something more than mere ties between a ranger and a companion. Past companions had never been as close or gotten to know him as well. But then, Xuxa was the first that had the ability to really get to know Baylee. He knew Xuxa would never willingly leave him. In the past five years, they’d never been separated despite all the hardships endured.

Choosing an aggressive stance in light of the things that faced him wouldn’t endanger only himself. Baylee would be risking Xuxa’s life as well because the bat would not leave him.

The ranger glanced back at the pit he’d dug into the hillside. He was so close; he felt it. And it had been so long since he’d had a find of any real significance—intolerable months. The chance at this one had been hard-earned, and now it would be hard won.

He couldn’t give it up.

Silently, he shifted, choosing to go for the woman first. If you can, keep me informed.

Yes.

Baylee moved silently through the forest. He was as at home in the verdant green as he was on the unforgiving sea or on the highest mountain or in the crypts, tombs, and burial sites he’d prowled through. He’d seen them all in his twenty-seven winters.

He followed the land, gliding over it with sure-footed grace. He passed by squirrels and a lark in trees and brush, never startling any of the animals with his presence. The woman stayed within the forest. He wondered if she was aware of the other party as well. If she was who he thought she was, he was certain she’d have noted the other group. And if they were not with her, he knew she’d have been busy trying to figure out what to do.

He rounded a final copse of trees, down in a gully that was awash with dying leaves and broken branches.

He pushed all stray thoughts out of his mind, concentrating on one problem at a time. From his earliest youth, Golsway had chided him constantly about taking on more than he could handle. But the eagerness in him was something that he had trouble containing. That same eagerness was what had prompted the old mage to invest so much time in an orphaned youth begging scraps on the streets, and what had ultimately driven them apart when Baylee had been a young man come into his own vision of his career.

If he did find what he was seeking in the abandoned well, Baylee had promised himself to return to Waterdeep after the ranger forgathering at the Glass Eye Concourse and show Golsway the item he hoped to recover. Maybe it wouldn’t bring them together again as they had been, but there’d been almost three years between visits as well. They’d grown; he had, at least, and maybe Golsway had softened with the years. How much remained to be seen.

The scent of soap and woman strengthened in Baylee’s nostrils. This time, the wind also carried a hint of lavender blossoms. His heart quickened in spite of the situation. He was sure his instincts were correct.

Stepping over broken branches and bits of forest debris, the ranger made his way to the bottom of the gully. Footing was made more treacherous by the rocks exposed due to run-off and the waves of twisted dead grass trapping branches. A single snap of dry wood would carry for several paces in all directions. He paused at a blackberry bush, staying well out of reach of the brambles. Even though they couldn’t bite into his leather clothing, the thorns would catch and jerk as he moved away, possibly alerting the others in the area.

The woodcraft of the small group to the south was lacking. Their feet clumped through the forest, loud to the trained ear. Baylee smelled them as well, breathed in the foul odor of the long-unwashed and the sulfurous taint of fear. They weren’t sure of themselves, and that was good.

Whether they trailed him or the woman remained to be seen. There were those who had placed prize money on Baylee’s head for past transgressions, and there was the possibility that he’d been recognized in Waymoot despite his precautions.

Baylee pressed on, moving slowly, parting the branches and brush ahead of him and making sure he didn’t move too fast as he slipped through them. The incline ahead of him grew steeper, broken by trees stubbornly growing out from the gully sides. Darkness continued descending over the forest.

A soft rustle of leathery wings sounded behind Baylee.

Xuxa’s telepathic voice tingled into his mind to reassure him. No one saw me.

Have you seen them?

No.

Baylee scanned the forest briefly, but the azmyth bat remained out of sight. He turned his attention forward, scanning up the gully wall before him. Shadows twisted and writhed ahead and to his left. Squinting, he made out the figure lounging there.

The woman crouched in the gathering gloom. Something edged gleamed in her hand.

She holds a hand crossbow, Xuxa said.

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