Final Gate by Richard Baker Read Free Book Online

Cormanthor to her. Besides, agreements could always be amended later, she reminded herself. She would not permit the drow to remain in Cormanthor unless they accepted her suzerainty, but that was a question she did not have to resolve that day.
    “I agree that we need not fight each other,” Sarya told the drow. “I will not send my legions against your holds in the Elven Court. And I admit that I am intrigued by the possibilities of cooperation.”
    Jezz sketched an awkward bow. “Then may I suggest that we find some place out of the sun to further develop our arrangement?”
    From Highmoon, Araevin and his small company rode north, to a lonely mausoleum in the depths of the Sember woods. Seven tendays past they had discovered the place while exploring a network of magical portals whose entrance was buried under the former daemonfey stronghold at Myth Glaurach. Seiveril Miritar had used the portals to traverse a thousand miles in the course of a few short days, bringing the Crusade from the Delimbiyr Vale to the deep woods of Cormanthor. Araevin retraced their steps, passing back to the long-abandoned City of Scrolls by means of the magical doorways that he and his friends had explored.
    They found Myth Glaurach guarded by a company of wood elves from the nearby High Forest, reinforced by several wizards of Silverymoon’s spell-guard. The daemonfey had shown no sign of returning to their original stronghold, but the folk of the High Forest and the Silver Marches intended to make sure that evil did not return to the old city.
    Araevin and his friends enjoyed a fine lanternlit dinner under the sighing firs of the wood elf camp on Myth Glaurach’s forested shoulders, and spent no small amount of time telling the tale of the Crusade’s efforts in Cormanthor. After that, Araevin asked the wood elves about the best way to the old stronghold of Nar Kerymhoarth. They did not answer right away, but instead summoned a slender elf huntswoman to the feast. She was lithe and handsome, with copper skin and the russet hair of her people, which she wore in a single long braid behind her.
    “I am Gaerradh,” the wood elf said to Araevin. “You are Araevin? The mage who took this mythal from the daemonfey?”
    “I am,” Araevin answered. “These are my companions Maresa, Donnor, Nesterin, and Jorin. I understand you know the way to Nar Kerymhoarth?”
    Gaerradh nodded. “I know the place well. I’m the one who discovered what the daemonfey did there.”
    “You were there?”
    “Yes. That was several months ago, of course. The daemonfey magic ripped the place in half. It looked like a mountain giant had struck off a whole hillside with his axe.”
    “Did you see the daemonfey assault on the dungeon?” “No, I came upon the scene about two days after they had left.”
    Maresa leaned forward. “I don’t suppose you found a big magical crystal lying around, did you?”
    Gaerradh looked at her blankly. “I am afraid I saw no such thing. What sort of crystal?”
    The genasi sat back. “It was worth a try,” she sighed.
    “It is about this long—” Araevin held up his hands, six inches apart— “and pale white, with a hint of violet light in its depths.”
    “Is it important?
    “I think so,” said Araevin. He went on to sketch out what he knew of the Gatekeeper’s Crystal, explaining how he hoped to use it to put an end to the manipulations of the daemonfey. “So, we hope to find a shard of the crystal somewhere near Nar Kerymhoarth. Can you tell us where to start?”
    Gaerradh shook her head. “We keep people away from the place because it has always been dangerous. But your efforts speak for you, Araevin. If you need to go to Nar Kerymhoarth, I’ll take you and your companions there.”
    “Thank you.” Araevin bowed.
    Gaerradh returned such a stiff and formal parody of a sun elf bow that he couldn’t help but laugh. “Sun elves are so solemn about everything,” she said with a smile. Then she hurried off