Crimson Shadow, The - R. A. Salvatore Page 0,57

burglar, and other straps—and small pouches, in the case of the more elaborate designs—held many of the tools of the trade.

“This one is special,” Brind’Amour assured Oliver. He opened a pouch on one of the shoulder straps, and from it, though it was much too small to hold such an item, took out a curious-looking device: a black, puckered ball affixed to a fine cord. “A cord much finer than the one you were forced to leave in Balthazar’s cave,” the wizard explained. “And this grapnel will secure itself to the smoothest of walls.” To demonstrate, Brind’Amour casually tossed the ball against the nearest wall and pulled the rope tightly. “It will hold three large men,” the wizard assured Oliver.

“Three quick tugs,” Brind’Amour went on, jerking the rope, “will release the hold.” Sure enough, on the third pull, the grapnel popped free of the wall.

Brind’Amour replaced the item and opened another pouch, this one along the harness’s belt strap. He held the housebreaker up close to Oliver’s face so the halfling could look inside.

Oliver gawked and blinked. The area inside the open flap was much larger than it appeared from the outside—extradimensional, Oliver realized—and within was the most complete set of tools, files and lock picks, fine wire and even a glass cutter, that Oliver had ever seen.

“Just think about the item you desire,” Brind’Amour explained. “It will come to your waiting grasp.”

Oliver did not doubt the wizard’s words, but he dearly wanted to see a demonstration. He held his hand near to the open pouch and silently mouthed, “Skeleton key,” then nearly jumped out of his nightshirt when a long-handled key appeared suddenly in his hand.

Recovered from the shock, Oliver turned a devious look on Brind’Amour.

“We have a deal?” the wizard asked, smiling widely.

“I never once thought to walk away from Luthien,” Oliver assured the man.

The next morning, as promised, Brind’Amour produced the passes into Montfort—valuable items, indeed. When the three entered the room where Riverdancer and Threadbare had been stabled, they found Brind’Amour’s magic already at work. A glowing door swirled upon the wall, the tunnel that would place the friends on the road outside of Montfort.

The farewell was short and friendly, except from Luthien, who remained cautious and suspicious. Brind’Amour accepted the young man’s light handshake and tossed a knowing wink at Oliver.

With his crystal ball, Brind’Amour watched the friends as they exited the magical tunnel and stepped onto the road to Montfort. The wizard would have liked to keep his protective gaze over them at all times. He had taken a great chance by giving the cape and bow to young Luthien, and honestly, he did not know whether faith or simple desperation had guided his actions.

Whatever the reason, Brind’Amour had to leave events to the friends now. He could not emerge from his secret cave, not even look out from it in the direction of Montfort, or anywhere that one of Greensparrow’s wizard-dukes might sense his magical gaze and trace the energies to the outlaw wizard.

If King Greensparrow even suspected that Brind’Amour was alive, then doom would surely fall over the wizard, and over Luthien and Oliver as well.

Brind’Amour waved his hand and the crystal ball went dark. The hermit wizard walked slowly out of the chamber and to his bedroom, falling listlessly onto his soft bed. He had set the events into motion, perhaps, but now all that he could do was sit by and wait.

CHAPTER 13

MONTFORT

RIVERDANCER SEEMED TRULY GLAD to be back out on the open road. The shaggy white stallion, coat glistening in the typical morning drizzle, strode powerfully under Luthien. Riverdancer wanted to run, but Luthien kept him in check. The terrain here was more broken than back in the northern fields. They were approaching the foothills of the Iron Cross, and even though they would have the better part of a day’s ride to get into Montfort and the rockier mountains, the ground here was strewn with boulders.

“I wish that he had put us closer to the city,” Luthien remarked, anxious to see the place. “Though I think Riverdancer could use the run.” He patted the horse’s muscled flank as he spoke and eased the reins a bit, allowing Riverdancer to spring ahead. Oliver and Threadbare were up beside them again in a moment.

“The wizard, he put us as close as he could,” Oliver replied. He noticed Luthien’s quizzical look, not unexpected since Oliver was beginning to understand just how sheltered the young Bedwyr truly was. Oliver remembered Brind’Amour’s plea