Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [35]
"Why are we their enemy," asked Thluna, "when we have scarcely heard of them? What could they want with Sungar?"
Thluna summoned his strength. "We must do what Sungar was preparing to do," he told Kellin, stroking Alaa's hair. "She won't like it, but I must. Very soon. The Thunderbeast gave us our mission, and we must achieve it."
"Will you take my aid?" asked Kellin.
Thluna looked away.
"Shaman Seventoes lies unconscious across the camp," Kellin said. "And even if he were whole, you are chief and not he."
"You do not understand," Thluna said softly. "We do not tolerate civilized people. And we do not cooperate with those who shape magic. We know where that path leads."
Kellin's brow furrowed. She was missing something-something they weren't telling her, something not founded in ancient doctrine but in recent experience.
"I assure you, there is nothing corrupt about my magic. It does not come from a book-my magic is as innate to me as my ability to breathe."
Thluna looked at her.
"You will have my answer soon," he said at length. "We will not be leaving for several days. Our warriors must heal, and we await Vell's return. He is our hope and our prayer. I believe our tribe's survival rests on his shoulders now."
"That's an awful lot to place on him," said Kellin.
Thluna closed his arms tighter around his weeping wife. "If he will not save us," he said, "then I cannot imagine who will."
* * * * *
No place on Faerun was more mysterious than the High Forest-or at least it seemed that way to the inhabitants of the North. It was a holdover from ages past when such great woods dominated the face of the world. It held elves, treants, dragons, drow, and only the gods knew what else. Why did it still stand after millennia, with encroaching civilizations all around it, all craving lumber? The High Forest had a way of conquering those who sought to do it harm.
In the minds of many, the High Forest threatened to swell in the imagination and become the very embodiment of the unknown. But there it stood, all too real, and churning out mysteries beyond invention. Though most gave it a wide berth-only a few roads skirted close enough even to see the edge of the trees-anyone living in or traveling through the southern end of the forest knew of the Star Mounts. They could be seen from many places in the North, and it was reckoned that they were almost as tall as the highest peaks of the Spine of the World. Shrouded in cloud and lore, they were perhaps the most tempting secret of the infinite mysteries that the High Forest kept so well.
These peaks occupied the thoughts of Llorkh's mayor.
From the westward balcony attached to his study in the Lord's Keep, he stared in their direction even though they were out of view. Perhaps, he mused, his destiny would be decided there.
"The Sanctuary," he muttered to himself.
"What?" asked Ardeth, stepping next to him. "What sanctuary is this?" She was still battered and bruised from her fight in the barbarian camp, but now, with a long rest and some time in Geildarr's private baths, she was recovering.
"Sanctuary," he repeated with a smile. "All of our hard work may be realized in that little word. Come." He led her down the hallway to his study, where the axe still rested on his desk amid stacks of books and papers. He snatched up a note containing the details from one of his divination spells.
"I had almost given up when this came to me in a spell. It'll be interesting to see what Kiev can extract from the chieftain, but perhaps capturing him was unnecessary." He held the parchment out to her and she read:
Blood flows from the heart of secrets, where shepherds tend to scales. The axe is the key that pulls back the false and reveals the old Sanctuary in Vision's long shadow. The brave shall find the forgotten source.
Geildarr couldn't stop beaming.
"What does it mean?" asked Ardeth.
"It's simple," he said, grasping a book and flipping to a faded sketch of the Star Mounts. Each peak was marked with human and elf names. On the far right was a mountain labeled