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forest.
"And I hope," Storm said as gently, "that they have the sense to steer well
clear of Myth Drannor."
"I'll see to that, sister," came a soft voice from above, as a black falcon
swooped out of the mists and then climbed away from them, heading east.
Elminster growled. "Now I suppose I'll have to keep eyes alight for whatever
she might do to get spellfire, too!" he said, and became an eagle, and was
gone into the sky.
Those who still stood where Sylune's Hut had been looked at each other, and
then at the dalefolk hastening back toward the tower as swords flashed and
sang amid the trees. Harpers and guards of the dale were battling men in a
motley of leathers mercenaries, by their look.
Jhessail sighed. "Well, back to the battle again," she said.
"Aye," Storm agreed. "As always." They drew blades, a wand, and two maces, and
charged into the fray. As always.
Talk Not
Aside
Open the door, little fools: we wait outside.
The green dragon Naurglaur
Sayings Of A Wycm
Year of the Spitting Cat
"We should go down," Shandril whispered into the wind. Narm's arms tightened
about her, and he and Shandril flew for a time in silence. The great green
expanse of the elven woods lay below them.
"Aye," he reluctantly agreed at last. "I shall not soon forget this."
"Nor shall I," she whispered. "As I should hope not!"
Narm chuckled at her mild indignation. Bending his will to turn northwest
again over the seemingly endless trees of the Elven Court, they headed back to
Shadowdale.
"I can't help but feel," he said, looking about them, "that we're being
watched." It was an odd feeling to have while soaring naked high above the
land.
"I'm sure we are, and we have been since we first rode with the knights," his
lady replied. "How else could they protect us?"
'"Well, yes . . . but now?"
"I'm sure they've seen such things before" she said. "Elminster's five hundred
winters old, remember?"
"Aye." Narm sighed, looking all about them. They were gliding low over the
trees, the sky clear but for a line of clouds to the north. They could see no
other creatures in the air or below. Narm shrugged. " Would that none of this
were necessary," he said, "and we could walk unafraid together." 9294*
SPELLFIHE
Shandril fixed him with very serious eyes. "I agree with you," she replied
softly. "But without spellfire, you and I would be bones by now." They passed
over the bare top of Harpers' Hill and left it behind them again. "Besides, it
is the will of the gods. Rage as we might, it is so, and shall be."
Narm nodded. "Aye. . . . Your spellfire can be handy enough, I'll admit. But
does it harm you?"
Shandril shrugged. "I know not. I do not feel amiss or in pain, most times.
But I couldn't stop it or give it up, even if I wanted to. It is part of me,
now." She turned in his grasp to look back, and as she did so something
circular and silver drifted out of the empty sky into her hands. Shandril
caught it before thinking of danger. It was cold and solid, and the touch of
its smooth weight sent her fingertips tingling.
"It is Rathan's holy symbol!" Narm said, astonished. "How came it here?"
"By the will of Tymora," Shandril said quietly. "Tb answer your doubts." Narm
nodded slowly and almost sternly. The fine hairs upon his arms stood out stiff
with fear. But he held her as gently and firmly as before.
"Where now?" he asked, as they saw The Old Skull Inn below. "The Twisted
lower?"
"No," Shandril said, pointing at chain mail flashing upon the backs of men
below. "In all the alarm, the archers might well have us both down before they
knew us."
"Or even," Narm muttered, "because they knew us."
Shandril slapped him lightly. "Think not such darkness!" she hissed. "Have any
who are truly of the dale shown us anything but kindness and aid since we came
here? We must be suspicious, aye, or perish but ungrateful? But as I was about
to say, I have little liking for the idea of greeting all the folk of the
tower clad as we are."
Narm chuckled. "Ah, the real reason," he said, halting their flight over
Elminster's tower. "My apologies, for such black thoughts. Still, it is better
to look over one's shoulder than to die swiftly and surprised."
"Aye, but let not the looking make you sour," Shandril told him. "You would
come down here?"
"Have we anyplace else?" Narm asked. "I doubt the art that protects Storm's
home will be kind to us now, if we
ED GREENWOOD
come calling when she is not there."
"True," Shandril agreed and took one last look around from their height,
looking north over the Old Skull's stony bulk to the rolling wilderness
beyond. The wind slid past them gently now. "Learn this spell yourself, as
soon as you can," she urged as she clung to him. "It is so beautiful."
"Aye." Nairn's voice was husky. "It is the least of the beauty I have known
this day."
Shandril's arms tightened about him, and she and Narm sank gently to the earth
in a fierce embrace in front of Elminster's tower.
Overhead, a falcon waggled its wings to an eagle and veered away to the south.
The eagle bobbed in slow salute and wheeled about, sighed audibly, and dove
earthward.
"Must ye stand about, naked, kissing and cuddling, and generally inflaming an
old man's passions?" Elminster demanded loudly, inches behind Narm.
Narm and Shandril both jumped, startled, but barely had time to unclasp and
turn about before the sage was pushing them roughly toward the door. "In! In,
and try your hands at peeling potatoes. Lhaeo can't feed two extra guts on
naught but air, ye know!" Shandril's fending hands encountered a deep and
silky beard.
Elminster came to a dead halt and glared at her. "Pull my beard, will ye?
Ridicule a man old enough to be thy great - great - great - great - great -
great - and - probably -great-again-grandsire? Are ye mad? Or just tired of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]