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"The priest?" asked the hobgoblin.

"As you saw for yourself, Geildarr couldn't order him on this mission. It's not always so clear as that. In some ways, Leng is Geildarr's superior, but in other ways, Leng answers to Geildarr."

"But what if the priest were gone?" asked Gan.

Ardeth looked over the camp to make sure all was silent.

"Let me tell you something," she whispered to Gan. "But you can't let anyone else know."

The hobgoblin nodded.

"We know that Leng has been scheming to overthrow Geildarr," said Ardeth. "He wants to become mayor of Llorkh, and he's willing to kill Geildarr to achieve this."

Gan's face showed almost no reaction. With as much calm as he could muster, Gan said, "We must kill him."

"It's not as easy as that," said Ardeth. "This isn't a hobgoblin tribe-we can't openly murder our enemies. But if we give our enemies enough time and a little help, they may just take care of the job on their own. I have a plan, and I could use your help."

* * * * *

Before she could say more, a loud crashing came from the woods. The trees parted like waves, drawing away as a great treant stepped into the clearing. Propelled by its long roots, it reached the tents with frightening speed. Its heavy, gnarled arm reached out and released water that drizzled onto the campfire embers, eliminating all its heat and light with a hiss.

The Antiquarians crawled free of their tents, and Mythkar Leng, dressed in simple brown robes that concealed his identity and power, did the same.

"You dare make fire in our wood!" the walking tree declared.

Royce took the lead. "Grant us your pardon, woodlord," he said. "The night was chill and we burned only dead wood we collected as we passed through your forest."

Huge green eyes studied him intensely. "Fire cannot be permitted," the treant said. "What business do you have among these trees?"

"We seek the Star Mounts," said Royce. "We want nothing but safe passage to them."

"A dangerous destination. I've seen many outsiders pass this way bound for those peaks, but they seldom return." He stared down each member of the group. "I've never seen a party as this. A hobgoblin in your midst, and clutching such an axe-what am I to think?"

"You can think whatever you will, treant," Leng hissed. "So long as you let us pass."

A wave of dismay passed through the Antiquarians. They had hoped to talk their way past the forest giant without incident. Leng spoke without fear or respect to a creature so much larger than they, and so imposing. He destroyed the image that he was an ordinary traveler.

The treant thought for a long time. An eternity seemed to pass as its oaken features remained still. Any onlooker would have mistaken it for an ordinary tree. Then it said, "You may pass, so long as you give that axe over to me."

Gan clutched the battle-axe tightly and brandished it over his head in challenge. But a clever root crept around and yanked it from his hands. The Antiquarians drew their weapons, and Ardeth pulled her slender sword from her belt.

The axe swiftly vanished among the treant's higher branches.

"That was not an axe for cutting wood," Royce protested. "We need it returned."

"Leave my forest and it shall be yours again," the treant threatened.

"Do you believe you can make threats?" asked Leng. "We could make kindling of you. I understand that in Thay, the Red Wizards have devised a way to corrupt your kind into twisted trees in their service. If only I knew how to do that."

The treant let out a low, reverberating war cry. Its roots snaked out toward its foes, who slashed at them with their weapons. Leng surreptitiously slipped backward. Vonelh unleashed a spinning, whirring collection of magical blades that cut into the treant's trunk. Bessick held a root in place with his raw strength, while Ardeth sliced at it with her sword. Nithinial and Royce readied their crossbows and launched their steel quarrels at the treant's face, but then they heard Leng behind them mutter, "If we are not permitted fire…"

Royce spun backward,