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.Bare shoulders of rock rose all around them in a confusing, broken landscape of rising ridges and plunging ravines.Scrub trees, gnarled and stunted, thrust branches in all directions, and the land ahead was a patchwork of greenery and rocky heights.Death could lurk anywhere in a land like this, Shandril thought-and be at your elbow before you saw it.She felt strangely weak and very vulnerable, like a deer surrounded by hunters.She drew a little closer to Narm, who put an arm around her, as if knowing her thoughts.Delg, seeking any signs of pursuit, was looking suspiciously back the way they'd come.After a long moment, he sniffed, shook his head, turned to follow Mirt over the first ridge, and executed a precarious scramble down the other side into the concealing thickets of the next ravine.Wary as they were, none of them saw the skull that floated along behind them, for it was cloaked in magics that made it invisible.The lich lord's cold gaze was bent steadily on the small band-in particular, on the slim form of the maid among them.Nightfall approached slowly as the day went on-too slowly, it seemed.Iliph Thraun was getting hungry again.The day wore on in an endless struggle up and down treacherous slopes and breakneck ravines.Everywhere around the travelers rose the crags and outcrops that gave the Stonelands their name.The Lord of Waterdeep, the dwarf, the bearer of spellfire, and the young mage who'd married her struggled through the broken lands, scraping and bruising elbows and knees on the everpresent rocks.As they went, Mirt spoke seldom-no surprise, for he was wheezing and puffing like an old and indignant goat.When he did break silence.it was always to cheer them with tales of skeletal trolls, monstrous ettins and hobgoblins, and sly, cruel-fingered goblins who lurked in the Stonelands,dragging intruders down in ambushes or stonefall traps and feeding on them."Do you mind belting up, merchant?" Narm asked at last, exasperated.The young mage was white to the lips from fear, and he cast involuntary glances at every bush and shadow as they walked.Mirt chuckled and clapped him on the back, a mighty blow that nearly sent the mage sprawling."Ah, stop me vitals, lad," he rumbled, "but it's good to see some spirit in ye at last." Delg squinted up at the fat merchant."Speaking of 'spirit in you,' I recall seeing that bottle of amberjack in your bag-and wondering what else it might be hiding from us, too.Berduskan dark, perhaps? Or have you a little winter wine?" Mirt chuckled."I once had a considerable cellar in here, aye-but traveling 's thirsty work, and most of the stock's gone now.Moreover, friend Delg, this is not the sort of country one should try legging it through with a few skins of wine on board.Falling and breaking bones is easy enough when sober." "A lecture on morals and practicality from Mirt the Moneylender?" Delg put his hands to his open mouth in mock amazement."Stow it, little one," Mirt suggested in kindly tones, then led the way along the winding, snakelike crest of a ridge that headed west, on into the seemingly endless maze of rocky heights and tree-cloaked ravines.As the group climbed and clambered on, Shandril's fingers went numb from clawing at too many rocks, and she felt a growing weakness-an emptiness-inside.What was wrong with her? She sighed, drawing an anxious look from Narm, which she put off with a smile.Scratching at a scrape on her arm, Shandril wondered how much more of this punishing travel she'd be able to last through.Overhead, the sun had passed its height, and was beginning the long slide toward sunset.As she squinted at it, Narm voiced the thought that had just come into her own mind."I'm not liking the idea of camping in this, somewhere on the side of a rockfall," Narm said to Mirt."How much farther is it to this gate of yours?" "If we keep on steadily," Mirt told him gravely, "we should reach it just before nightfall." Narm rolled his eyes."Nightfall," he said."Of course." The old merchant-as usual, Delg reflected sourly proved to be right.The sun was low and the depths of the ravines shrouded in purple shadows when Mirt pointed to a tiny spur of rock in the distance."Irondrake," he said simply, and hastened on.Despite the chill breezes of twilight, they were all sweating as they clambered up, over, down and through seemingly endless rocks.Narm could well believe what he'd heard of brigands evading armies of Cormyr in this tortured land; half a hundred men could be waiting on the other side of every ridge, and you'd never know it until y- Suddenly wary, Norm swallowed and suspiciously checked the terrain around them.Delg, who was climbing in his wake, grunted."About time you started being scared, lad," the dwarf said.His tones told Narm the dwarf had just deemed him not quite a complete idiot-but still damned- before-all-the-gods close.The young mage sighed and looked at Shandril.The sight of her always cheered him.As it happened, there weren't a hundred armed brigands waiting around the next ridge.Instead, a grassy meadow opened out in front of them, rising steeply up to tumbled rocks at the base of a lancelike pinnacle of stone.The fire of sunset blazed down one side of this rocky spire."Irondrake Rock," Mirt announced as if he'd just put it there himself."Named for a great wyrm that once laired here." 'Once?" Delg asked suspiciously.Mirt chuckled and pointed a thick finger at the base of The toothlike spire of stone."Its grotto lies there, if ye've a mind for fool-headed poking about.Perhaps, if it'd make ye sleep easier, Shan'll hurl alittle spellfire in there-and singe whatever calls it home now." The dwarf squinted up at the stone spire.Save for the calls of birds in the trees below and behind them, all was quiet around it.The tall grass of the meadow, studded with weeds and wildflowers, looked as if nothing had disturbed it all this season.Even so, Delg didn't care much for the way stony walls rose on either side of them to hem the meadow in, forming a great funnel that lead only upward to the Rock.But he could see no sign of danger.Yet.Grumbling into his beard, Delg led the way up through the thick grass toward the rocky spire."Where's this gate of yours, then?" Mirt grimaced."At the very top-of course." "You'd need the luck of the gods to get to it in winter," Delg replied, staring up at the crumbling flanks of Irondrake Rock.Shandril followed his gaze, and swallowed.She'd have to climb that? She turned to Narm and found in his face the same growing alarm she felt.Without thinking, they threw comforting arms about each other."Last light," Delg said sourly
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