“Timtim gave the alarm,” Lorzok said. “Since every hair on my head was standing on end, I didn’t waste time wondering if he was right.”
“That witch was after Sheld,” Jubilee said. “She stared at them like they were worth a lord’s ransom.”
So Saeldian was in trouble in multiple realms? Didn’t that just figure. “Why? Who was that?”
“I don’t know,” Jubilee said. “But I saw her face when she first arrived. She looked happy to find us, buthappy’s not the right word.”
Lorzok’s wolf form slid away as he became an orc again. “Happy the way a hunter is happy when the prey is flushed out.”
“We have to find them.” Jubilee turned in a circle. “Tell me how this truewild works. I want to find Sheld, so I can, right? As long as I want to find them.”
Lorzok leaned against a tree and waited for Kell to answer.
Hells.
“I can do it.” Kell said. “Rest. Let me.”
He hadn’t done this in ten years.
After escaping Baldur’s Gate, Kell Redsong could have settled in a copse of trees, closed his eyes, and remembered everything he knew about Saeldian, then used that memory to feel where they were. He could have known what direction they were in, and, judging by how long it took to match his knowing of them to the finding, how far away. If Saeldian had been on the road to Waterdeep, it would have been a few minutes. If they had sailed away, it would take a little longer, the impression more diffuse. But Kell had known Saeldian longer than anyone else. It would have been faster to find them a hundred miles away than to find Krent, the Zhentarim from Wyrm’s Rock whom he’d known for only two days, only ten miles distant.
But if Saeldian had gone to another realm, or died, there wouldn’t have been anything to sense at all, and Kell didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know if they’d gone north to Waterdeep or south to Candlekeep or were still tucked up snug in Baldur’s Gate behind him, living on the money they’d made from selling him out. He hadn’t wanted to know anything about Saeldian Charmhand ever again. So he never tried to find them, not once.
But now he had to. Kell tried his best to remember Saeldian—tall and cynical but always so funny. How they prowled Baldur’s Gate collecting more clothes than a theater troupe, able to change into the manner of a servant draped in the social armor of their lord, a laundress bearing a basket of sheets, or a lone drinker whowas surprised when their bearing and their boots betrayed them as an off-duty Fist. How they could take their tray of powders and pastes and become someone else until they smiled and winked, always the same under the mask. How they’d disguise themselves and drop gold in the palms of the ten-year-olds and tell them to stick together to be safe.
He remembered them bringing home spices they definitely stole, and fine wines and rare cheeses. Kell relied on their tasting skills to advise him on what seasoning to add to a dish, but Saeldian couldn’t boil an egg without risking a kitchen fire. How it felt to see them again after so many years, and—
How it felt to stand still while Saeldian used magic and needlecraft to fit Wisdom’s dress robes to Kell’s body. How their gentle, expert touch sprinkled in power had felt like caring, even though Kell didn’t want to feel warm and comforted.
He remembered how he wanted to laugh at Saeldian doing the bidding of a little girl and rescuing a kitten that could have rescued itself, because it was ridiculous, but how he couldn’t, because it was Saeldian doing something Kell never imagined them doing.
And then he knew where to point. He was already facing that way, one foot lifted to take the first step. The shrubs thinned just there, as if the local deer always went between them. Kell followed that sense, and the deer path never got wider, but it always tended in the correct direction. The sense of Saeldian grew until he could guess at a distance—within a mile. Within a block. Within a shout. He had to mind where he stepped while the ground folded under his stride, carrying him farther than he should have been able to go.
The truewild bent to what he wanted, and Kell could feel it all around him, changing and becoming what he wanted as he moved through it. He hadn’t ever moved through the truewild like this. He hadn’t known it would feel like he could guide it as if he held its reins.
And then he smelled flowers. Sweet white flowers. He ran between a pair of red-trunked ash trees to find Saeldian bent over, hands braced on their knees while their lungs caught up with them.
“I found you, Saeldian,” Kell said.
“Sheld!” Jubilee trotted over like all that running and leaping was just another afternoon. “Are you all right? Did she chase you?”
“We’re safe. She can’t find us here. I found it.” Saeldian pointed at a small, ornate glass house tucked in the wood.
“Where is here?” Kell wanted to grab their shoulder before they collapsed on the soft pale paving stones, but he stepped back. Saeldian was different. More vigilant, but also ready to fight for their life in an instant. If he touched them right now, he might have the blade of that knife in his guts before they realized they’d pulled it.
“Osalor’s garden,” Saeldian said. “My patron’s domain.”
“The path behind us is gone,” Lorzok said. “I think only Saeldian’s need allowed us entrance. We’re well hidden.”
Jubilee turned in a slow, awed circle. “It’s beautiful. Look at all these flowers!” She took a deep breath and sighed. “It smells amazing. Tell me I’m not dreaming.”
Saeldian lifted their head and smiled. “It is, isn’t it? Incredible.”
Kell had seen some beautifully made gardens, but this was excessive. White flowers bloomed in the light of the moon and its tears. The truewild was always in twilight, but Osalor’s domain was one of night, and it felt like each flower in the garden was a star. The flowers were only white, or colors so pale they were almost so. Irises, hyacinth, roses, lilies, jasmine, starflower, and magnolia—the scents that perfumers spent their whole lives trying to capture in a bottle.
Flowers draped over archways and toed the borders of the paths that led to places to sit, take a meal, or relax in the middle of a lazy walk in all that fragrance. A pond boasted lotuses and lilies, and Kell bet that the fish inside were white too.
“It’s beautifully made,” Lorzok said. “It couldn’t exist in nature, of course. Cherries are done blooming before the lilacs come out.”
