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sternly.
    “The council asked you to investigate all of this,” Brenna stated firmly. “I’m on the council. And you’re going to need my help.”
    Galvin sighed and changed his position, pushing his pack out of the way and lying back on the grass. He propped his head up with his right arm. He had no intention of letting Brenna Graycloak accompany him and Wynter into Thay. It would be light soon, and Wynter could escort her back to Glarondar while he healed himself. Thay was no place for a dainty politician who belonged in a city.
    Galvin’s thoughts drifted. He knew going into Thay might take him inside heavily populated areas, something he dreaded. He hadn’t set foot in a city for more than a year, and that had been on Harper business. It was Wynter who had gone into Glarondar several days ago to meet with the Aglarond council and bring Brenna out to talk to the druid. Galvin felt uncomfortable in cities, caged in by all the walls. There were many things that caught his eye amid the buildings—well-made clothing, fine food, excellent wine—but when he had made an attempt to purchase such things during his last foray, he had felt awkward and embarrassed. The few coins he had hadn’t even been legal tender within the boundaries of the city, and the shopkeepers had laughed at him. So the druid remained firm in the conviction that he didn’t need cities; they were dirty, crowded, and filled with unpredictable humans and demihumans. No doubt many cities in Thay would be filled with worse. As he continued to contemplate the possibilities, a drop of rain plopped on his forehead, followed a moment later by another and another. He looked up at the dawn sky, which was dotted with bleak, dark clouds. For a moment, he thought he saw a large bird. Blinking, he realized it must have been his imagination.
    Maligor’s malignant creation hung undetected in the sky, concealed by the gloom and protected by the clouds from the sun’s first rays. It skimmed over the thinning trees and spotted its target lying prone below. The beast hovered for a moment in the shadow of a cloud, studying the scene. It hadn’t considered the possibility that the man would join others. It wanted to fight the man alone.
    The darkenbeast began to circle the campsite, becoming increasingly irritated over both the situation and the rain—and oblivious to its own peril, the sun. It watched and waited and was finally rewarded when the rain became a downpour and chased the woman into the tent. The odds were improving. It would wait a few minutes longer.
    Below, the creature regarded the centaur pacing in front of the prone man, the darkenbeast’s quarry. The darkenbeast’s unnaturally keen ears picked up their conversation.
    “We’ll stay here a day or two—just until you’re feeling all right. Then we’ll move on to Thay. I think we should take the woman along if she can keep up,” Wynter said. “She seems to know her way around in cities better than you or I do.”
    “She stays behind,” Galvin countered firmly. He would have expounded on the matter, but he felt another wash of dizziness and decided he’d been foolish not to ask for the centaur’s help.
    “Wyn,” he said softly. “I need those herbs now, but I’m not up to getting them. The leaves are small, fernlike. You’ve seen me gather them. I’ll need an entire plant, maybe two. Please.”
    Wynter’s eyes bore into Galvin’s. The centaur was angry that his friend had been more concerned with the Red Wizards than with his own health. Without replying, Wynter galloped from the clearing, his hooves sending mud and water flying.
    The darkenbeast circled the campsite again, its dark spirits soaring now that its quarry was at last alone. It pulled its wings close to its body, plummeting like a rock and crying loudly as it separated from a low-hanging cloud. The sound was a peculiar, irritating shriek that sent shivers racing down Galvin’s back and brought him unsteadily to his feet.