Justifying the Means
Aballister leaned in close over Dorigen's shoulder, making the woman somewhat uncomfortable. Dorigen let her focus drift away from the images in the crystal ball and shook her head vigorously, purposely letting fly her long salt-and-pepper hair so that it smacked nosy Aballister in the face.
The older wizard backed up a step and pulled a strand of hair from his lips, glowering at Dorigen.
"I did not realize that you were so close," Dorigen weakly apologized.
"Of course," replied Aballister in similarly feigned tones. Dorigen clearly recognized his anger, but understood that he would accept her insult without too much complaint. Aballister had broken his own scrying device, a magical mirror, and the experience had left him fearful of any more attempts at clairvoyance. He needed Dorigen now, for she was quite skilled at the art "I should have announced my
presence and waited for you to complete your search," Aballister said, which was as close to an apology as Dorigen had ever heard from the man.
"That would have been the appropriate course," Dorigen agreed, her amber eyes flashing with...
With what? Aballister wondered. Open hatred? Their relationship had been on a steady decline since Dorigen had returned from her humiliating defeat in Shilmista Forest, a defeat she had suffered at the hands of Aballister's own estranged son.
The older wizard shrugged away the personal problems. "Have you found them?" he asked evenly. He and Dorigen could settle their score after the immediate threat was eliminated, but for now, they both had greater problems. The spirit of Bogo Rath had returned to Aballister the previous night, with the information that Cadderly was indeed on his way to Castle Trinity.
The report inspired both trepidation and exhilaration in the older wizard. Aballister was obsessed with conquering the region, a goal given to him by the avatar of Talona herself, and Cadderly certainly seemed to be among the foremost obstacles to those designs. The wizard could not deny the tingle of anticipation he felt at the thought of doing battle with his formidable son. By all reports, Cadderly did not even know his relationship to Aballister, and the thought of crushing the upstart youth, both in magical battle and emotionally with the secret truth, inevitably widened a grin across cruel Aballister's angular features.
The news of Cadderly's march inspired nothing but fear in Dorigen, however. She had no desire to tangle with the young priest and his brutal friends again, especially not now, with her hands still sore from the beating Cadderly had given them. Many of her spells required precise hand movements, and with her fingers bent crooked and joints smashed, more than one spell had backfired on her since her return from the elven forest
I have seen no sign of Cadderly," Dorigen replied after a long pause to study again the blurry images in the crystal ball. "My guess is that he and his companions have just recently left the library, if they have left at all, and I dare not send my magical sight so near our enemy's stronghold."
"Two hours, and you have found nothing?" Aballister did not sound pleased. He paced the edge of the small room, running withered fingers across a curtain that separated this area from Dorigen's boudoir. A smile spread across the wizard's face, though, despite his trepidation, when he remembered the many games he and Dorigen had enjoyed behind this very curtain.
"I did not say that," Dorigen answered sharply, understanding the conniving grin, and she turned back again to the crystal ball.
Aballister rushed back across the room to peer over his associate's shoulder. At first, only a gray mist swirled within the confines of the crystal ball, but gradually, with Dorigen's coaxing, it began to shift and take on definite form. The two wizards viewed the foothills of the Snowflakes, obviously the southeastern mountain region, for the road to Carradoon was plainly in sight Something moved along that road, something hideous.
The assassin," Aballister breathed. Dorigen regarded the older wizard curiously.
The spirit of Bogo was cryptic on this point," Aballister explained. This thing you have discovered was one of the leaders of the Night Mask band, the one called, appropriately it would now seem, Ghost Apparently our dear Cadderly took from Ghost a magical device, and now the wretched creature has come back for it Can you sense die spirit's power through your ball?"
"Of course not," Dorigen answered indignantly.
Then go out to the mountains and watch over this one," Aballister growled at her. "We may have a powerful ally here, one that will eliminate our problems before they ever make their way to Castle Trinity."
"I will not"
Aballister straightened as though he had been slapped.
"I have not yet recovered," Dorigen explained. "My spells are not dependable. You would ask me to go near a malignant ghost, and near your dangerous son, without full use of my abilities?" Her reference to Cadderly as Aballis-ter's son made the older wizard cringe, the obvious implication being that this entire trouble was somehow Aballister's fault
"You have at your disposal one far more capable of estimating the strength of (his undead monster," Dorigen went on, not backing down in the least "One who can communicate with the creature if necessary and who can certainly learn more about its intentions than I."
Aballister's wrath melted away as he came to understand Dorigen's reasoning. "Druzil," he replied, referring to his familiar, a mischievous imp of the lower planes.
"Druzil," Dorigen echoed, her tone derisive.
Aballister put a crooked hand up to his sharp chin and mumbled. Still, he seemed unconvinced.
"Besides," Dorigen purred. "If I remain at Trinity, perhaps you and I..." She let the thought hang, her gaze directing Aballister's to the curtain across the small room.
Aballister's dark eyes widened in surprise, and his hand drooped back down by his side. "Continue your search for my s... for Cadderly," Abailister said to her. "Alert me at once if you discover his location. After all, I have ways of striking at the foolish boy before he ever gets near Castle Trinity."
The wizard took his abrupt leave then, seeming flustered, but with an obviously hopeful bounce in his step, and Dorigen turned back to her crystal ball. She didn't immediately return to her scrying, though, but instead considered the action she had just taken to prevent Aballister from sending her away. She held no love for the man anymore, no respect even, though he was certainly among the most powerful wizards she had ever seen. But Dorigen had made a decision - a decision forced by her will to ride this whole adventure out to a safe conclusion. She knew herself well enough to admit that Cadderly had truly unnerved her in the elven wood.
Her thoughts led her to contemplations of Aballister's intentions for his son. The wizard had allies, enchanted monsters kept in private cages in his extradimensional mansion. All that Aballister needed was for Dorigen to point the way.
Dorigen looked down at her still swollen and bruised hands, remembered the disaster in Shilmista, and remembered, too, that Cadderly could have killed her if he had desired.
*****
They set their first camp on a high pass in the Snowflakes, sheltered from, the biting, wintry wind by a small alcove in the rocky mountain wall. With Vander's gigantic bulk standing to further block the gusting breezes (the cold did not seem to bother the firbolg in the least), Ivan and Pikei soon had a fire roaring. Still, the wind inevitably found its way in to the companions, and even the dwarves were soon shivering and rubbing their hands briskly near the flames. Pikel's typical moan of "Oooo," came out more as "0 - o - o - o," as his teeth chattered through the sound.
Cadderly, deep in thought, was oblivious to it all, oblivious even to the fact that his fingers were beginning to take on a delicate biue color. His head down and eyes half-closed, he sat farthest from the flames - except for Vander, who had moved out around the edge of the natural alcove to feel the full force of the refreshing wind against his ruddy cheeks.
"We're needing sleep," Ivan stuttered, aiming his comment at the distracted priest
"0 - o oi," Pikel readily agreed.
"It w - will be hard to sleep with the cold," Danica said rather loudly, practically in Cadderly's ear. The four companions looked incredulously at each other, and then back at Cadderly. Danica shrugged and moved closer to the flames, rubbing her hands all the while, but Ivan, always a bit more blunt in his tactics, took Shayleigh's longbow, reached across the fire with it, and bopped Cadderly several times atop the head.
Cadderly looked up at the dwarf. "What?"
"We was saying that it's a mite chilly for sleeping," Ivan growled at him, his claims accentuated by the puff of frosty breath accompanying each chattered word. Cadderly looked around at his shivering companions, then seemed to realize his own tingling extremities for the first time.
"Deneir will protect us," he assured them, and he let his mind's eye slip back to the pages of the Tome of Universal Harmony, the most holy book of his god. He heard again the flowing, beautiful notes of the endless song, and pulled from them a relatively simple spell, repeating it until its enchantment had touched all of his friends.
"Oo!" Pikel exclaimed, and this time his teeth did not chatter. The cold was gone; there was no better way to explain the sensation that instantly came over each of them at Cadderly's blessed touch.
Took ye long enough," was Ivan's last muttered sentiment before he dropped back against the comfortable (to a dwarf, at least) mountain rock, clasped his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.
The dwarves were snoring in a matter of minutes, and soon after, Shayleigh, her head against arms that grasped her propped longbow, was also resting easily. Cadderly had resumed his previous contemplative posture, and Danica, guessing that something was bothering her love terribly, fought away the temptation of sleep and kept a protective watch over him.
She would have preferred that Cadderly willingly open up to her, initiate the discussion that he obviously needed. Danica knew the man better than to really expect that, knew that Cadderly could sit and mull something over for hours, even days.
"You have done something wrong?" she asked as much as stated to hint "Or is it Avery?"
Cadderly looked up at her, and his surprised expression told Danica much, though she did not immediately elaborate on her suspicions.
"I have done nothing wrong," Cadderly said at length, a bit too defensively, and the perceptive monk understood then which of her guesses had hit the mark.
"It seems amazing how completely Dean Thobicus changed his mind concerning our quest," Danica said slyly.
Cadderly shifted uncomfortably - more evidence for Danica's perceptive eye. The dean is a cleric of Deneir," Cadderly replied, as though that explained everything. "He seeks knowledge and harmony, and if the truth becomes known to him, he will not let pride stand in the way of changing his mind."
Danica nodded, though her expression remained doubtful.
"Our course was the proper one," Cadderly added firmly.