“This one was a ghost before it arrived here, and the Dread Ring caught it and held it,” Sylora explained. “There are others, too: ghosts, traveling in a pack, on a mission.” She looked directly at Dahlia and added, “Dwarf ghosts.”
“From Gauntlgrym,” Dahlia reasoned.
“Yes, apparently some of that complex survived the primordial’s awakening. Close your eyes and open your mind, and you will hear them.”
Dahlia did as asked, and almost immediately felt the words Help us! form in her mind.
“They wish to be freed of the ring,” she reasoned, but Sylora shook her head.
Again Dahlia focused on the telepathic keen of the dwarf spirits. Help us, she heard again. The beast awakens. Help us!
Dahlia’s eyes popped open wide and she gawked at Sylora. “They come out of Gauntlgrym with a warning of the reawakening primordial?”
“So it would appear,” Sylora replied. “And if they came here, then it is likely they’ve traveled to other places as well. Who will heed their call, I wonder?”
“None,” Dahlia was quick to respond. “And could any even find Gauntlgrym again should they care to try?”
“I know of one, perhaps two, who could,” Sylora replied.
Dahlia mulled that over for a few moments before nodding in agreement. “Some ghosts might have found their way to Luskan’s undercity. The Hosttower’s tendrils lead there.”
“And what are we going to do about this?”
The leading manner of Sylora’s question left no doubt in Dahlia’s mind as to the Thayan woman’s intentions.
“When the primordial awakens once again, its devastation will solidify our work, will create enough carnage to complete the Dread Ring, and that, in turn, will assure our victory over the Netherese. I’ll not have that prevented, or even delayed.”
“You wish me to go to Luskan to confront Jarlaxle and Athrogate?”
“Do you need to ask?”
“Do not underestimate those two,” Dahlia warned. “They are formidable on their own, and Jarlaxle is not without powerful friends.”
“Take a dozen Ashmadai—a score if you think it necessary,” Sylora replied. “And Dor’crae.”
“The lich would help.”
“Valindra stays with me. She has almost fully regained her wits, but her power has not yet returned. She is not expendable.”
That last line hit Dahlia like a bolt of lightning. “But I am?”
Sylora laughed at her and turned her attention back to the dwarf ghost in the lava rock. Its face had appeared, a desperate grimace, and quite pleasing to the Thayan.
“And so is Dor’crae?” Dahlia pressed, only because she spotted the vampire not so far away and knew he’d heard the last exchange.
“Dor’crae is nimble enough to escape, should that be necessary,” Sylora answered without missing a beat.
She always seemed one step ahead of Dahlia. The elf knew it was her own weakness, her own inability to recover from the humiliation of her failure at Gauntlgrym, that put her behind. Ever since she’d returned from that place, Dahlia had walked a less steady path. Where once she’d been aggressive, she had become … reactive. And creatures like Sylora preyed on that indecisiveness.
“Find them and learn if they’re returning to Gauntlgrym,” Sylora ordered.
“I doubt they’re even in Luskan. It’s been a decade—”
“Learn!” Sylora snapped at her. “If they are there, if they are returning to Gauntlgrym, then stop them. If not, then learn if any others intend to take up the call of the dwarf ghosts. I should not have to explain this to you.”
“You don’t,” Dahlia replied, quietly but steadily. “I understand what must be done.”
“Have you yet met this champion of Shade Enclave who haunts Neverwinter Wood?”
“I have. He’s human, but with something of the shade about him.”
“And you fought him?”
Dahlia nodded, and an impatient Sylora motioned for her to elaborate.
“He ran away,” Dahlia lied. “He’s better at hiding than he is at fighting, though he’s fine with the blade as well. I suspect his kills have come by surprise, mostly.”
Sylora seemed a bit confused at that moment, glancing back over her shoulder into Neverwinter Wood.
“I’ll not likely find him again anytime soon,” Dahlia said. She didn’t want Sylora to reconsider her priorities, rather fancying the opportunity to be gone from that creature’s side for some time at least, and also seeking no second encounter with the Gray.
“Magic will flush him, then,” Sylora said, and Dahlia did well to suppress her sigh of relief.
“To Luskan with you, in all haste,” the Thayan sorceress went on. “Find your old companions and ensure that neither they nor anyone else slows the fury of our fiery pet.”