Chapter 7 | Part 2

“Wyrmreach.”

Drusniel knew the name. Every drow did. Exile. Prison. A place used in warnings because almost no one came back.

“You want me to go there?”

“I want you alive tomorrow,” Zaelar said. “Umbra’kor is not safe for you, and the surface is only safer while no one knows where to look.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“No. It’s the problem.”

Zaelar turned the map so Drusniel could read it. A line followed the coast north, ending near a section marked only with old ward symbols.

“There is a route across the Nightmare Sea. Dangerous, but possible.”

“Possible for whom?”

“For someone whose affinities are air and water.”

Drusniel studied the map. “Why?”

“The currents change without warning. Near the boundary, even the air can turn against you. Your affinities give you a chance to feel the change in time.”

“A chance.”

“A chance,” Zaelar agreed.

Drusniel appreciated the word more than reassurance.

“And if I survive?”

“I know a mage there. Szoravel.”

“You know him personally?”

“I trained under him a long time ago.”

“Will he train me?”

“He agreed to watch for a signal if I ever sent someone worth his time.”

“That’s not the same answer.”

“No.”

Drusniel pulled the map closer, leaving a smear of dried blood at its edge.

“What does he teach?”

“Magic Umbra’kor would rather pretend does not exist. Mechanisms the priests classify as forbidden because they cannot control who learns them.”

“Enough to come back?”

Zaelar’s gaze stayed on him. “Possibly.”

“Enough to fight Vrinn?”

“Possibly.”

The dagger at Drusniel’s hip felt heavier.

Zaelar waited until Drusniel looked up. “You want to go back. I understand that. But first you need a place where you can live long enough to learn.”

Drusniel looked down at the map.

He could not remain in Umbra’kor. He could not live openly on the surface. The tower had already been attacked—or made to look attacked. He had no house, no money he could safely reach, and no one he trusted enough to ask.

Wyrmreach was a terrible option.

It was still an option.

“How do I cross?”

Zaelar went to the locked cabinet.

“With a boat, if it is still where I left it. And with this.”

He opened the cabinet. Metal caught the low light.

“First you sleep.”

Drusniel almost refused.

When he pushed away from the table, he had to catch its edge.

“A few hours.”

“The upper room is intact.”

Drusniel started toward the stairs, then stopped.

“You said Szoravel will watch for a signal.”

“He will.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then you will have to find him,” Zaelar said. “I cannot promise you a welcome, Drusniel. Only a route.”

Drusniel held his gaze for another second.

He climbed the stairs with one hand on the wall. Below him, Zaelar rolled the map shut.

End of Chapter 7.2 —> 7.3: The Package: The Artifact