Crypt of the shadowking - Mark Anthony [89]
"Caledan. Look above you." Something in Mari's voice made the hair on the back of Caledan's neck stand up. He and Tyveris looked up, and both of them froze.
A man stood on the side of the small hillock no more than ten paces away, gazing down at the companions. He was a noble-looking man with a strong, aquiline nose and eyes of pale gray. His attire-a brocaded longcoat over a ruffled shirt, tightly fitting breeches, and high leather boots-was fine, even opulent, but it looked strangely archaic, bespeaking the fashions of another age. Oddest of all were his silvery cloak and his long, onyx-black hair, for neither of these stirred in the brisk wind that whipped across this high, open place.
"By Oghma above, I can see right through him," Tyveris whispered, and Caledan realized he could do the same. The outlines of a gnarled cedar tree were hazy but clearly visible through the man. The loremaster gripped the holy symbol that hung about his neck and muttered a prayer to appease the dead.
Morhion stepped forward, bending slowly in a regal bow.
"Hail, Talek Talembar," the mage intoned in his burnished voice. Caledan stared at Morhion in shock.
With ethereal elegance the spectral man mirrored the mage's bow. The motion was accompanied by a faintly audible sound, like the tinkling of tiny, distant bells. Tatters of mist drifted about the phantom, glowing in the bronze light of the westering sun.
"Indeed, mage," the spectral man spoke in a voice that was so deep as to be thunderous, yet musical at the same time. "It is I, Talek Talembar. Or at least the shadow of one who once was so named."
A look of wonder crossed each of the companions' faces. Caledan felt a shiver ripple up his spine. It was not every day he found himself facing a man who had been dead for over a thousand years.
The phantom nodded his head solemnly toward Caledan. "Greetings, Caledan Caldorien."
A tendril of mist reached out to softly encircle Caledan. He could feel its chill, gentle touch. "How… how do you know me?" He somehow managed to give voice to the words. His breath fogged on the strangely cold air. He realized he was trembling but could not help himself. He had been prepared for uncovering the dusty remains of Talembar's long-dead bones. This… this was something altogether different.
The phantom made a shrugging gesture. "How do I know that it is daylight? That a storm has just vented its anger here? That a thousand years have fled since the day I fell in this valley? I do not know how I know, only that I do know. I know who each of thou art, and even why thou seeketh me, though in truth I could not tell thee how I came to be here, standing before thee. Perchance thy need was great enough to summon me. I must confess to thee, Caldorien, death has proved most mysterious." A faint smile touched the phantom's lips.
Ferret took a timid step forward, though he kept close to Caledan. "You aren't angry that we've… ah, disturbed your eternal rest, are you?" the thief asked in a tremulous voice.
The phantom laughed, a haunting yet lovely sound, like the call of a far-off horn. "Fear not, my good, cunning rogue. The only danger that awaited thee at my tomb lies now at the bottom of the precipice, quite dead, as I might well know. No more harm will come to thee, at least not in this place."
Caledan managed to regain a semblance of composure. He nodded in solemn respect, then dared to speak again. "Then you know why it is we have come seeking your tomb, Talembar."
Slowly Talembar nodded. "Yes, I do know. But I cannot tell thee the secret of the shadow song, Caldorien. For the simple reason that I have forgotten it."
"Forgotten it?" Caledan said incredulously. "But how could you forget something as important as that?"
"The spirit world is far removed from ours, Caldorien," Morhion interposed. "The veil that separates this world from that is heavy and obscuring. Eventually the dead must forget the world of the living, else they would never be able to leave it behind."
"Alas, what the mage doth speak is true," Talembar