Shandril's Saga - Spellfire Part 2

"Well met, Great One," Symgharyl Maruel said. "By your leave, I would question this one before I leave her with you."

"Given, Shadowsil," Rauglothgor replied. "Though she knows little of anything, yet, I deem. She has the eyes of a kitten that has just learned to walk."

"Aye, Elder Wyrm," said the Shadowsil, "and yet she may have seen much in the few days just past, or even be more than she seems." The lady in purple strode around to stand before Shandril. At a gesture, the rope slithered slowly from Shandril and left her free. Shandril gathered herself to flee, but Symgharyl Maruel merely smiled down at her in cold amus.e.m.e.nt and shook her head.

"Tell me your name," she commanded. Shandril obeyed without thinking.

"Your parents?" the mage pressed.

"I know not," Shandril replied truthfully.

"Where did you dwell when younger?" The Shadowsil continued quickly.

"In Deepingdale, at The Rising Moon."

"How came you to the place where I found you?"

"I... I stepped through a door of light that glowed in the air."

"Where was that door?" the mage continued, a note of triumph in her voice.

"I... I don't know. In a dark place-there was a gargoyle."

"How came you there?"

"B-by magic, I believe. There was a word, on a bone, and I said it. ... "

"Where is the bone now?"

"In a pool, I think-in that ruined city. Please, lady, was that Myth Drannor?"

The dracolich chuckled harshly. The Shadowsil stood silently, eyes burning into ShandriTs. "Tell me your brother's name!" she demanded abruptly.

Shandril shook her head, confused. "I-I don't have a brother."

"Who was your tutor?" The Shadowsil snapped at her.

"Tutor? IVe never had-Gorstag taught me my duties at the inn, and Korvan about cooking, and-"

"What part of the gardens did the windows of your chamber look upon?"

Shandril flinched. "Chambers, lady? I-I have no chambers. I sleep-slept-in the loft with Lureene most nights..."

"Tell the truth, brat!" the mage in purple screamed, her face contorted in rage, eyes gleaming. Shandril stared at her helplessly and burst into tears.

The deep chuckle behind the mage cut through both angry threats and sobs.

"She speaks truth, Shadowsil. My art never lies to me." Shandril looked up, startled.

Symgharyl Maruel dropped her rage like a mask and regarded the disheveled, tearful Shandril calmly. "So she is not the missing Cormyrean princess, Alusair," she said aloud. "Why then is she such a sheltered innocent? She is not simple, I believe."

The dracolich chuckled again. "Humans never are, I have found. Ask on; she interests me."

The Shadowsil nodded as she moved forward to confront Shandril. Her dark eyes caught and held those of the young thief; Shandril prayed silently to all the G.o.ds who might be

listening that she be free of this place and these two horrible beings of power.Symgharyl Maruel regarded her almost sympathetically for a time and thenasked,"Were you a member of the Company of the Bright Spear?"Shandril lifted her head proudly and said, "I am."" 'Am?" The Shadowsil laughed shortly. Shandril stared at her with mountingfear. She had secretly hoped that Rymel, Burlane, and the others had somehowescaped the great dragon. She covered her face at the memory of the viciousattack, but she knew the truth now. The mage's cold laughter forbade her todenyit any longer. Tears came."You were taken by the cult and imprisoned in Oversem-ber. How did youescape?"The Shadowsil pressed."I-I . . ." Shandril's face twisted in fear and grief, and mounting anger.Who was this cruel sorceress, anyway, to drag her here and bind and question herthus? The dracolich's deep, hissing laughter rolled around Shandril again. "She has a temper, Shadowsil. Beware. Ah, this is good sport!""I found the bone and read what was on it," Shandril answered sullenly. "Ittook me to the place with the gargoyle. I know no more."Symgharyl Maruel strode toward her angrily. "Ah, but you do, Shandril! Who was that fool who attacked me before we took the gate here?"Shandril shook her head helplessly."My name, witch,"-a new voice echoed over them all in answer-"is Narm!" Therewas a flash and a crackling in the air, and Shandril saw the mage stagger andalmost fall, face contorted in pain and astonishment, as a swarm of smallbolts of light struck her body.Shandril looked behind her as she rose from her knees. High above, at themouth of the cavern, were six humans. Two in robes stood before the others. One ofthem, also the one who spoke, she recognized from those last seconds beforeSymgharyl Maruel had forced her through the gate. He was young and excited.The other, a woman whose hair was as long as The Shadowsil's, stood with handoutstretched. She had been the one who had just hurled magicO t the purple-robed sorceress.Shandril had no time to see more before the cavern rocked with Rauglothgor'sroar of challenge. The dracolich reared up to face the newcomers, eyesterrible,bony wings arching. Shandril hurled herself at The Shadowsil, who sprang awayand hissed a word of art-and vanished before Shandril could grab her.Rauglothgor spat a word that echoed in the grotto around her, and a fierystreak lashed high over her head and exploded flame in all directions.Shandril dove flat and looked around wildly. The newcomers were leaping downthe sloping cavern floor toward her, apparently unharmed by the fireball. She sawthe purple-robed sorceress appear on a high ledge behind them all."Look out!" Shandril screamed, pointing above them. A man in plain robesglancedup and back, and there was a winking of red light from a circlet he wore.

From it burst a thin red beam that struck The Shadowsil. The sorceress stiffened,hands faltering in their spell-weaving, and then she slumped back against therock wall, holding her side and screaming curses of anger and pain.The dracolich roared again, and the long-haired woman lashed out in reply with a bolt of lightning. As it crackled overhead, the lightning outlined a tall manin blue-gray plate armor and the young man as they scurried down the slopetoward her. The man in armor held a drawn blade. The young man called out to her. "Lady! You from The Rising Moon! We come toaid you! We-"His words were lost in the roar of the dracolich's second fireball, burstingjust behind the two running figures. Shandril turned in panic and randownslope,slipping on coins, hard jade, and shifting bars. Behind her there was a cryof pain, the hissing laughter of the dracolich rolled around her, and the lightabruptly faded in the cavern.Shandril's feet slid again in slithering coins. She caught her balance with apainful wrench and leaped onto rocks. The silent winking of the beljurils grewahead of her as she neared a wall. Behind her there was another flash and the metallic clinking sound of running feet on the heaped coins.But the feet did not sound as if they were following her.

Shandril gasped for breath as she climbed rocks with bruising speed. Lightsprang into being again, and she dove forward into a cleft between twoboulders. The dracolich roared again.And I haven't even a blade! Shandril thought, rolling to her feet, bangingknees and elbows in the process. She peered back across the cavern at the battle.Symgharyl Maruel stood upon a high rock, hands moving-but she was notspellcasting. Rather, she was slapping at something very small. Insects!The slim and beautiful newcomer in robes was casting a spell, facing thedracolich across the grotto. Knee-deep in coins at the dracolich's feet stoodthe man in armor, chopping and slicing at the skeletal form that towered overhim. Another warrior was racing down the slope to join him. An elf! This one,too, bore a glowing blade. The blade's radiance was briefly overwhelmed by aroaring blast of flames from the dracolich's bony maw.Rauglothgor turned his head toward Shandril as he rose up from a gout offlames he'd launched at the warriors. Shandril turned in panic and scrambled up thecavern wall, praying that the dracolich would not overwhelm her."Lady!" came that voice again. The young man was still pursuing her, but shedared not stop. She clambered up over rocks and loose rubble. The dracolich,Symgharyl Maruel, and these powerful newcomers all stood between her and escape,she decided, and she doubted if the G.o.ds cared enough about Shandril Shessairto save her. Better to flee while they were busy slaying each other!The flickering glow of another burst of flame reflected off the rocks beforeher. Shandril heard a man roar in pain as the fire died away. Behind her,much closer than she expected, she could hear the young man chanting rapidly. Was he trying to trap her with a spell, too? She scrambled away.Suddenly, she slipped and fell hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. Thefavored of Tymora, as usual, she thought, gasping for air.Shandril looked up in time to see the young man who'd been pursuing her landsoftly at her side. She jumped to her feet to run away, raising an arm tofend off attack.

Narm grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. "Lady!" he panted. "Keepdown. The sorceress . . ." Abruptly, there was a flash and a deep, rolling explosion, and small stonesclattered and fell about them. "She is free of the insects!" the young man gasped, looking around themfrantically. "Oh, G.o.ds!" he cursed.Shandril followed his gaze up the purple-robed form of Symgharyl Maruel, whoappeared before them with a triumphant smile.But the smile was knocked from her face as a slim, dark figure leaped at thesorceress, somersaulting in the air. The figure's feet struck The Shadows!!with bruising force in the shoulder and flank. The two figures hurtled clean outof view behind rocks. "Well met, witch!" a merry voice said from behind the rocks. "I am Tbrm, andthese are my feet!"Back down below, however, Rauglothgor hissed and roared, and Shandril saw itsgreat bony form twisting and rearing. Next to her, the handsome young manchanted, "By gra.s.shopper leg and will gathered deep. Let my art make thisone"-he touched Shandril's knee-"leap!" He thrust something small into herhand. "Lady," he hissed, "break this, turn, and leap up there. The sorceress!"Shandril, goaded into fearful scrambling, fumbled with the wisp, broke it,and jumped. The art took her high and far in one mighty bound. She landed on aledgein the heights of the cavern. Behind her she heard The Shadowsil chant highand shrill, and then there was a flash. Shandril landed lightly on tumbled rocks.Whatever art the sorceress had hurled had missed her. Shandril glanced down-and met Symgharyl Maruel's glittering, angry eyes. She was casting yet another spell, arms moving in fluid motions. Again the acrobaticfigure in dusty gray sprang at her from the side. But The Shadowsil crouchedat the last second, turned with a laugh of triumph, and hurled the spell meantfor Shandril at the somersaulting Ibrm. But from his hands flashed two daggers,blades spinning end over end through the air.Shandril turned and ran on without waiting to see who would die. A dull,rollingboom sounded from far behind her, and stones shook beneath her feet. The floor of the cavern, risingstill,was scattered with riches. The faces of long-dead kings carved from coldwhite ivory stared at her as she pushed past, shuddering at the thought of howlargethe beasts who yielded those tusks must have been.

Shandril was feeling her way past a curtain of strung amber, the toothedceilingof the cavern low overhead, when there was yet another mighty blast behindher. Dust swirled as small pieces of rock rained down around her. Shandril heardthe hasty, sliding steps of someone running across loose rocks and coins behindher. She hurried on, stumbling for the hundredth time, hands outstretched to breakher fall. The steps behind grew closer."d.a.m.nation!" she cursed aloud. "I can't keep running anymore. When will thisnightmare end?"And the G.o.ds heard. There was an ear-splitting crash from the cavern behindher. Shandril was flung violently forward amid a helter-skelter of rocks, coins,gems, gold chains, and choking dust. Over the din, the thief of Deepingdaleheard the dracolich Rauglothgor give an anguished, bellowing roar that roseand fell, then died away in hollow echoes.Then came three short, sharp explosions. Shandril screamed and held her ears.The deep rolling did not die away, but seemed to be coming from all sides.Small rocks struck her like stinging rain. Then loud booms sounded again, andlargerslabs and pillars of rock broke free and fell. Refusing to be entombed alive,Shandril crawled desperately on into the darkness. She heard faint,despairingshouts far behind in the dark, but the words dissolved in the never-endingechoes. When chaos finally died into stillness, Shandril was alone in the driftingdust. Her ragged breathing was deafening in the sudden silence. She lay still,achingfrom bruises and sc.r.a.pes, covered by sweat and dust and small stones.Suddenly, she noticed a pale glow from the rubble below. Shandril stared at.i.t as her eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom. The glow came from a sphere ofcrystal. Its curves were glossy-smooth, and it was a little larger than aman's head. The steady white radiance came from within it, and by its light Shandril could see that it lay among a pile of treasures.She picked her way to the sphere. When she nudged it cautiously with a toe,the glow did not flicker. She watched it for a time, waiting for any change,peeringclosely to see if anything might be hidden beneath it. Finally, she reacheddown and touched it. She ran her hand lightly over the cold smooth surface, thenstepped hastily back, eyeing the sphere narrowly. But nothing flickered,nothingchanged. Shandril crouched down and gently lifted the sphere. It was light,and yet somehow unbalanced, as though something were moving inside. But shecouldn't feel, hear, or see anything inside.Holding the sphere up like a lamp, Shandril looked around. The jagged ceilingof the cavern hung close overhead, stretching away perhaps twenty paces, to meetthe broken and rubble-strewn stone floor. She swung around slowly, gold coins and other treasures winking as the radiance met them. She was at a dead end.The roof of the cavern had fallen in, and she was trapped, far underground!Panicking, Shandril scrambled forward. There must be a way out' The wholewide cavern can't have been blocked, just like that' "Oh, please, Tymora, whateverhas gone before, smile upon me now!"And then the light she bore fell upon an outflung arm.The young man who had been chasing her across the cavern earlier layface-down,silent and unmoving. A pile of stones half-buried his legs. Shandril stareddown at him for a moment and then knelt carefully amid the rubble and gentlybrushed the hair from his face. His eyes were closed, his mouth slack. She knew him now. He was the man whoseeyes she'd met across the taproom of The Rising Moon, the same man who'ddefiantly hurled magic at Symgharyl Maruel before the gate in Myth Dran-nor.He was handsome, this man. And he had tried more than once to help her.Abruptly, he moved slightly. Before she knew it, she had set the globe downand was carefully lifting and cradling his head.

He stirred and worked his jaw. Pain and concern lined his face, and he spokesuddenly. "More devils! Is there no end? No-" His hands moved, and he caughtat her. Shandril found herself dragged down onto the rock beside him."Must. . . must. . ." he hissed weakly.Shandril grunted and struggled against his grip, reaching for a weapon she nolonger bore. And then, inches from her ear, she heard a surprised "Oh." Thepressure on her shoulders eased, and his hands became suddenly gentle.Shandril looked up into his eyes, now open and aware. They met hers in wonder, and inthem she saw dawning hope, and confusion, and regret."I_pray your pardon, lady. I have hurt you." His hands fell away, and hescrambled to rise, rocks rolling all about. He fell back weakly.Shandril put her hand out to him. "Lie still! Rocks must be moved first. Yourfeet are covered. Do they hurt?" She clambered past him as she spoke,wonderingto herself if it would be safest to leave him helpless, unable to reach her.But no; she could trust this one. She must trust him. The rocks lifted easily.Theywere many, but small."I-can feel nothing. My feet seem ... a little bruised, but no worse, Ihope."He smiled wanly. "Lady, what is your name?""I-Shandril Shessair," she replied. "What do they call you?""Narm," he replied, moving one foot experimentally. It felt intact, so herolled over to help her free his other foot. "How came we here?"Shandril shrugged. "I ran. The fight went on, and-was that you following me?""Yes," he replied, grinning.After a moment she grinned back. "I see," she said. "Why?"Narm looked down at his empty hands for a moment and then into her eyes. "Iwould know you. Lady Shandril," he said slowly. "Since first I saw you at theinn, I have ... wanted to know you." Their eyes held for a long silence.Shandril looked away first, reaching to take up the glowing globe and cradleit in her arms. She looked at him over it, eyes in shadow, long hair veiling her face. Narm opened his mouth to tell her how beautiful she looked, and then closed it. She waslooking at him steadily."The cavern fell in upon the others," she said abruptly. "We have beenburied,walled off." Narm sat up, heart sinking. "Is there no way out?"Shandril shrugged. "I was looking for one when I saw you," she said. "Can yourart open a way?"Narm shook his head. "That is beyond me. But I can dig, G.o.ds willing," hesaid with a nod. "Where did you leave off looking?"Shandril went forward with the globe. "Here," she said. Slowly, carefully,theymoved along the stones, shining the globe high and low. But they found no gap."together they continued on around the walls of their prison. Reaching theirstarting point, they straightened wearily."What now?" Shandril sighed."I need to sit down," Narm said. He selected a large, curving boulder andsat,patting the rock beside him. Slowly, Shandril moved to join him. Narm swung abattered sack from his shoulder and pulled it open. "Are you hungry?""Yes," Shandril replied. Narm handed her a thick sausage wrapped in oiledcloth,a partially eaten loaf of round, hard bread, and a leather water skin."What is it?" "Only water, I fear.""Good enough for me," she said, taking a long swig. They ate in silence for atime. "Who was that sorceress?" Narm asked suddenly."She called herself Symgharyl Maruel, or The Shadowsil," Shandril said. Shetold him of the Company of the Bright Spear, and of finding herself imprisoned inthe cavern, of how the bone had brought her to Myth Drannor, and The Shadowsil tothis place. She stopped her speech suddenly and eyed Narm. "Your turn."Narm swallowed a lump of bread quickly and shrugged. "There is little to tell.I am an apprentice of the art, come from Cormyr with my master, Marimmar, toseek out the lost magic of Myth Drannor. When we reached the ruined city, we metseveral Knights of Myth Drannor, who warned us away from the city, speakingof devils. But my master thought their counsel false, and he tried to enter the city by anotherroute." Narm paused and took a pull from the skin. "Marimmar was slain. I would havedied as well, had not another pair of knights rescued me. They took me toSha-dowdale, where Lord Mourngrym lent me an escort back to Myth Drannor. I came upon you and was nearly killed. The knights healed me, and I ... persuadedthem to come through the gate with me to ... rescue you."They looked at each other."I thank you, Narm," Shandril said slowly. "I'm sorry I ran from you and led you into this." Their eyes met. Both knew they would probably die here. Shandrilfelt a sudden, raw regret that she had found a man so friendly and soattractive too late. They had met just in time to die together."I'm sorry I drove you here," Narm replied softly. "I am not much of awarrior,I fear." Wordlessly Shandril pa.s.sed him the bread and clasped his forearm as the companyclasped those of their equals. "Maybe not," she said after a time, desirestirring within her, "and yet I live because of you."Narm took her hand and raised it slowly to his lips, eyes on hers. Shesmiled,then, and kissed him on impulse.It was a long time before they parted and looked at each other. "Moresausage?"Narm asked hastily.And then they both laughed nervously. They ate sausage and bread, huddledtogether in the gentle light of the globe. "How came you by this globe?" Narmfinally asked.Shandril shrugged. "It was here" she said, "with the other treasure. I knownot what it is, but it has served me as a lamp. Without it I wouldn't have foundyou.""Yes," Narm said, "and my thanks for that." The look in his eyes madeShandril blush again. "You asked about the dra-colich. This is the first time I've ever seen one, but my master told me of them. They are undead creatures, createdbytheir own evil and a foul potion, just as a fell mage becomes a lich. Adepravedcult of men worship such creatures. They believe that 'dead dragons shallrule the world entire,' and they work to serve these dead dragons so that theywill be favored when this prophecy comes to pa.s.s.""How does one serve a dragon, save as a meal?"

"By providing the potions and care it needs to achieve unlife," Narm replied."After that, they provide spells and treasures. Servants also provide adracolich with information and much flattery when visiting."He fell silent as they ate. After a time, Shandril asked quietly, "Narm, howgreat is your art?"Narm shook his head. "Feeble, lady. Too feeble. My master was a capable mage,though I have never seen him hurl magics as the Lady Jhessail of the knightsdid, back there." He nodded at the darkness where the rocks had fallen towall them in. "I know a few spells of use, a few more that are but tricks orlittle things used to hone the will or the nimble-ness of mind and fingers, and thenames of a few who may tutor me further. My master is no more, and as a mage, am almost nothing without him.""Something more than nothing rescued me," Shandril countered. "You did, and yourmagic was strong and swift when I needed it. I-I will stand with you andtrust in your art."Narm looked at her for a time and laid his hand on hers. "I thank you," he said. "It is enough, indeed." They embraced, holding each other fiercely in thenear-darkness. "We may die here," Narm said abruptly, in a low voice."Aye," Shandril said. " 'Adventure,' they call it."Abruptly, from the back of the cavern, they both heard clearly the click andclatter of a falling stone. They fell silent, listening, but there were no more sounds of moving rock. They exchanged worried glances, and then Shandrilpickedup the globe and held it high. Its radiance fell across the rocks butrevealed nothing. Narm stepped carefully toward the wall of rock, dagger in hand. Hewalked about for some time. "Nothing, my lady," Narm said, returning. "But I found this for you." He heldout a pendant of electrum wrought in the shape of a falcon in flight, setwith garnets for its eyes. She took it slowly, smiled, and hooked it about herneck. "My thanks," she said simply. "I can only give you coins in return. I amsittingon a heap of them, and one at least has fallen into my boot.""Why not?" he said. "If die we must, why not die rich?"

"Nairn," Shandril said very softly, "could you not gather coins later?"Narm turned and looked at her. Shandril held out her arms toward him. When he knelt by her, he found she was shaking. "Lady?" he asked, holding her."Please, Narm," she whispered, dragging him down atop her, her hands movingwith sudden urgency. Narm, surprised, found that she was very strong. Hisdiscarded pack fell across the globe, and they spoke no more for a very long time.Later, they lay face-to-face on their sides in the darkness, ShandrU's breathwarm upon Narm's throat and chest. Even cold coins and rock could make for acomfortable bed, he decided. Shandril held Narm gently, thinking he haddrifted off to sleep, but he spoke to her then."Lady," he said roughly. "I know it has been but a short time since we met,but I love you.""Oh, Narm," she said. "I think I have loved you since our eyes first met inThe Rising Moon, and that feels like so very long ago-a lifetime at least!" Shelaughed, hugging him tenderly. Her expression turned thoughtful. "It'sstrange,but I'm not afraid to die now. It's not so terrible to die here, if we dietogether." Narm's arms tightened about her."Die?" he said. "Who knows but that a little digging might win our freedom?The dracolich's grotto is too big to be completely filled with rock ... I hope.""We'll dig, then," Shandril said, "if you'll let me up." They rolled apartand uncovered the globe. Its radiance showed them each other, shadowed and bare,and Shandril s.n.a.t.c.hed up her tunic automatically to cover herself."Lady," Narm said gently, "may I not even see you?"Shandril laughed in embarra.s.sment, and her laughter became tears. Narm heldher and soothed her as her sobs died away. He murmured gentle support and reachedover her shoulder to catch up her tunic. "We're not dead yet," he whispered.They sat together for some time in silence, arms about each other, summoning strength. Then Shandril began to * 00*

shiver, and they both dressed and got up to walk around for warmth. Narmgathered gold enough to fill both their pouches and found another treasurefor his lady.He handed Shandril a ring and bracelet joined together by fine chain, so that.i.t covered ShandrU's forearm from finger to elbow with curved plates and workedhoops of chased electrum, chain and all being set with many sapphires.For himself, he found a dagger, with its bra.s.s pommel worked into thesnarlinghead of a lion, and two rubies inset as the lion's eyes. He pa.s.sed over manysplendid treasures, but he managed to put one bar of gold in his pack beforehe heard ShandrU's hiss of surprise.Something moved on the rocks beyond Shandril, approaching her from thetumbled rockfall. Something black and scaly, and about as long as a shortsword. Itscuttled soundlessly over, around, and through the stones toward them. It wa.s.some sort of long-necked, long-tailed lizard. Narm stepped forward hastily toblast the creature with his art if it attacked. Without slowing, the creaturecrested a rock five paces from Shandril, who raised the globe to see thecreature more clearly.Suddenly, the creature began to grow. It continued down the rear side of therock, boiling, shifting, and growing taller. The black surface flecked off.Beneath was purple cloth. Rising tall, and stretching slim arms out,SymgharylMaruel smiled at them triumphantly."So we meet again," the sorceress said with soft menace. "Cower there, dear,"she told Shandril, "while I deal in art with this young lion of yours." Herhands were moving like gliding snakes. Shandril looked back at Narm. Hishands were also moving, but she saw in his face the brave despair of one who has nopower left to hurl magic.The ShadowsU hissed a word of power, then took the time to laugh. Shandrilfelt red rage boil up within her, and she leaped forward. At least she would havethe satisfaction of seeing the sorceress surprised before she herself died.O ** Death m the On facing magic: Run, or pray, or throw stones; many a mage is a fraud, and youcan win the day even while your heart trembles. Or you can stand calm andmumble nonsense and wiggle your fingers. Some few workers of the art are suchcowards that they may flee at this. And as for others, at least when men speak of yourdeath in days after, they'll say, "I never knew he was a mage; all those yearshe kept it secret. He must have been a clever fellow." Of course, some wholisten may disagree.Guldoum Tchar of Mirabar Sayings of a wise and fat merchantYear of the Crawling CloudsThe glowing globe was in Shandril's hands. Without thought, she swept it up and smashed it with all herstrength into The ShadowsiTs face-The sharp singing of its shattering waslost in SymgharylMaruel's rough shriek. Darkness fell. Shandril dropped the fragments shestill held and drove a foot hard into the purple-robed belly. The screaming ended,and Symgharyl Maruel sat down suddenly. Narm was running toward Shandril. "Mylady! Are you allright? Shandril?" At his words, the sorceress drew a shuddering breath andfixed one glaring eye on Shandril through the blood nowrunning down her face. Symgharyl Maruel's hands began to move. O "Oh, G.o.ds!" the young man moaned in fear. Shandril stood frozen an instant.But with The Shadowsil caught up in spellcasting, Shandril seized a rock andsmashed it again into the sorceress's face. The rock struck with a horrid, wet thud,and Shandril drove it down again."Leave us alone, you b.i.t.c.h!" Shandril screamed at the sorceress, as the rockrose and fell yet again.The Shadowsil struggled to block Shandril's attack. She fell backward untilshe lay full-length on the rocks, b.l.o.o.d.y and unmoving."Shandril?" Narm whispered anxiously, as he clambered over the Jagged rocksto reach her. Shandril stared down, the rock falling from b.l.o.o.d.y fingers, and she burstinto tears. Narm held her with a fierce tenderness and stared down at the sorceress. Neither her spell nor his cantrip had taken effect. Perhaps Shandril had spoiled TheShadowsil's spell with her rock attack, but Narm doubted it. Certainlynothinghad spoiled his casting. A twinkling cloud of light around Narm was all thatlet him see the fallen sorceress in the darkness. Symgharyl Maruel lay still andsilent. Was it that easy to kill so strong a wielder of the art?Shandril mastered her sobs and held tight to Narm. As they stood togethertheyheard the distinct sc.r.a.pe and tumble of rocks beyond the rockfall. Hopeleapedin them both. Shandril looked up through the twinkling mist. "Do we shout to tell themwe're here?" Narm frowned and shook his head. "I think not. We may not want to meet thediggers. Let's shout only if they stop digging.""Well enough," Shandril said, "if you stay with me."Narm held her tight. "Think you, fair lady, that I am a rake?" he asked inmock anger."A lady cannot be too careful," she quoted the maxim back at him.He grinned. "Please make known to me, Lady, when this carefulness of yoursbegins."

Shandril wrinkled her nose and blushed with embarra.s.sment. Then her attention was caught by the twinkling cloud surrounding Narm.

"What's that?" "I don't know." The young man tried to dust the glowing mist away from him,but it clung close. "Strange ..." he said, but then the rocks grated again. Theystood and watched warily for the rocks they could see to move. Once there was a louder, rumbling clatter, and a surprised male voiced a cry.Suddenly, a glimmer of yellow light appeared, flickering between two rocks.The light grew as more rocks were lifted away."We should hide!" Shandril whispered, drawing Narm down into a crouch amongthe stones. Tbrchlight blazed at them before they could move. "Narm?" a voice came fromthe darkness. "Lady?""Florin?" Narm replied eagerly, rising and drawing Shandril to his side."Well met!" came the glad reply, as the man scaled the rocks toward them.Shandril recognized him as the kingly warrior who had walked with Elminsterin the mists between the company and the mysterious men who guarded the mules."I heard screaming," he said. "Is all weU with you?""We're fine," Narm replied, "but she who screamed-the sorceress-is not. Shewill work her art no more." "Aye? So it is," Florin's face was impa.s.sive. "Danger sought, danger found.You did well. Our foe lies buried, but may yet live." He stopped for a moment tosquint at Narm. "Hold, what's that?" he asked. "A balhiir!" he exclaimed,drawing back in alarm. But he was too late.The swirling, sparkling cloud around Narm boiled up like the plume of acampfirewhen wind draws it into long flames. The cloud struck at the ranger's blade."A balhiir!" Florin gasped again, swinging his sword away. But the mist wasalready swirling around his blade in cold silence. The weapon grew heavier inhis grasp as its magical blue light twinkled once and then dwindled away. Thetwinkling mist remained and seemed a little brighter."Whence came this balhiir?" the ranger asked."Is that what it is? I struck down the sorceress with a crystal sphere,"Shandril told him. "The sphere broke, and this*O*

came out." The ranger gazed at his blade in consternation, and then smiled. "By the bye, am Florin Falconhand, of Shadowdale, and the Knights of Myth Drannor. Might Iknow you?"Smiling, she said, "Shandril Shessair, until recently of Deepingdale and theCompany of the Bright Spear, though I fear the company is no more.""Your servant, Lady," Florin said with a bow. "You have loosed an ill thing on the world. This creature feeds on magic. Only the one who loosed a balhiir can destroy it. Will you aid me in this task, Lady?""Is it dangerous?" Narm asked, feeling his anger rise."Your lives both bid to be filled with danger," Florin replied gently,"whether you kill this creature or not. Striving for something worthwhile and going toyour graves is better than drifting in cowardice to your graves, is it not?""Fair speech, indeed," Shandril replied, meeting his eyes. "I will aid you,"she said firmly, calming Narm. "But tell me more of this thing.""In truth," the ranger told her calmly, "I know little more. Lore holds thatthe one who releases a balhiir is the only one who can destroy it. Elminster ofShadowdale knows how to deal with such creatures, but like all who use the art,he dare not come near something that drains magic. Items of power all seem tofare poorly against the creature; it foils spells, too.""Well," Shandril asked, "why should such a creature be destroyed? Doesn't itleash dangerous art?""Fair question," Florin replied. "Others might answer you differently, but I saywe need art. There are prices to be paid for it, but the shrewd use of themagical art helps a great many people. The threat of art rising, unlockedfor,keeps many a tyrant sword from taking what can be taken by brute force."Shandril met his level gray gaze and slowly relaxed. She could trust thistall,battered man. At her side, Narm stirred."The balhiir was about me for some time. It drained both my cantrips and thesorceresses' spells. Do you know if I will be able to work the art again?""Indeed, so long as the balhiir is not present. It will moveEOGHEENWOOD to absorb unleashed magic if it can." Even as Florin spoke, the twinklingcloud stirred about his blade, spiraled up, and left him. In a long, snakelike mistof lights, the balhiir drifted back the way the ranger had come. Florin startedafter it. "Follow me, if you will. If not, I'll leave the torch."The two hurried after him. Shandril glanced hack once at The Shadowsil lyingamong the rocks, but all she could see was one foot jutting upward. As theypa.s.sed through the escape hole Florin had dug, the foot seemed to move in thedancing torchlight. Shandril shivered despite herself.The cavern where the dracolich had laired was much changed. The ceiling hadbroken away and fallen. The gleam of treasure was gone, covered by rubble anddust. There was a mighty rumbling and clattering of stones to their right, asthe eternal dracolich rose slowly from under a castle's worth of fallen rock.Far across the wide chamber, a woman was raising her hands in magical pa.s.ses.Bright pulses of magic burst from her hands as Nairn and Shandril climbed over the rocks. They saw magic missiles streak across the chamber and strike thedracolich. The winking cloud of mist streaked down hungerly.Rauglothgor roared anew in pain and fury. Its deep bellows echoed about thecavern. The battered dracolich rose up and hissed, "Death to you all! Drinkthis!" There was a flicker of the art, but nothing else occurred. The balhiir hadreached Rauglothgor. The dracolicb roared again in surprise and rage. Itsgreatclaws raked huge boulders aside as a cat sc.r.a.pes loose sand. "What is this?"it raged. Its hollow neck arched, its jaws parted, and flames gouted out in agreat arc. Fire rolled out with terrifying speed and washed over the lady on the farslope.The air was filled with the stench of burning. As the flames died the lady still stood, apparently untouched, her hands moving in the casting of a spell.About her the sparkling mist danced. The balhiir had ridden the fire across thechamber. "Jhessail," Florin called. "A balhiir-the art is useless!""So I see," Jhessail calmly replied, ignoring the roars of Rauglothgor acrossthe cavern. "Well fought, Nairn. How is your companion? She looks worth ourtrouble." O<* shandril="" found="" herself="" smiling.="" "well="" met,="" lady="" jhessail."jhessail="" came="" up="" and="" hugged="" her.="" "you="" show="" a="" good="" eye,="" nairn.="" let="" us="" proceedelsewhere="" now,="" lest="" we="" not="" see="" another="" meal="" to="" get="" acquainted="" over."florin="" and="" the="" elf,="" merith,="" stood="" with="" drawn="" blades="" facing="" the="" dracolich.="" themist="" swirled="" away="" from="" jhessail="" and="" moved="" toward="" the="" elf="" s="" weapon."your="" blade,"="" florin="" warned."if="" drained,="" then="" so="" be="" it,"="" merith's="" merry="" voice="" came="" back="" to="" them.="" both="" ofthe="" fighters="" charged="" the="" skeletal="" monster.again="" and="" again="" the="" elf="" avoided="" the="" raking="" bones="" of="" the="" dracolich,="" withflorin="" also="" rolling="" and="" leaping="" in="" the="" same="" dance="" of="" death.shandril="" and="" narm="" looked="" about="" in="" time="" to="" see="" a="" gray="" streak="" of="" motion,="" aslim,fast="" man="" leaped="" down="" the="" rocks="" toward="" them."beware!"="" jhessail="" shouted.="" there="" was="" a="" sudden="" flash,="" and="" a="" roar,="" and="" the="" ground="" leaped="" to="" meet="" all="" ofthem.="" someone="" was="" shaking="" him.="" "up,="" narm,"="" jhessail="" said="" firmly.="" "we="" cannot="" standin="" this="" place="" longer.""i="" have="" shandril,"="" lanseril's="" voice="" said="" from="" somewhere.="" "she's="" heavier="" thani="" expected."narm="" struggled="" to="" move,="" to="" rise.="" a="" warm="" hand="" was="" on="" his="" shoulder.="" "thedracolich?"="" "rauglothgor="" lives."="" jhessail's="" voice="" was="" rueful.="" "the="" balhiir="" hampers="" bothsides="" in="" this="" struggle.="" the="" dracolich's="" lair="" has="" traps="" and="" harbors="" creaturessubject="" to="" its="" will.="" it="" has="" moved="" to="" block="" our="" escape="" to="" the="" upper="" caverns.""are="" you="" not="" its="" match="" in="" art?"="" narm="" asked,="" then="" he="" realized="" what="" he="" hadsaid.="" "oh,="" my="" pardon,="" la-""none="" needed,"="" jhessail="" replied,="" guiding="" them="" around="" tumbled="" boulders.="" "idoubt="" it,="" here="" in="" its="" lair.="" alone,="" spell="" to="" spell,="" perhaps.="" my="" spells="" are="" morenumerous="" and="" stronger,="" but="" its="" are="" unusual="" and="" suited="" to="" defense."they="" climbed="" up="" one="" side="" of="" the="" cavern="" toward="" where="" merith="" stood="" waiting.="" hisdrawn="" sword="" no="" longer="" glowed.="" "well="" fought,"="" he="" said,="" kissing="">

"Where is Tbrm?" Narm asked, politely waiting until the kiss was done.Merith and Jhessail exchanged glances and chuckled. "We think he usedsomethingfrom a little bag of tricks he carries to teleport out of here when he sawthe balhiir, no doubt to save all of the magic he carries. I hope he also went totell Elminster of what has befallen us, and we shall see some aid," Jhessailexplained."And if aid doesn't come?" Narm asked. "Then our inevitable victory will be a little harder," Lan-seril said. "If you don't mind saying, what art do you currently command?"

Narm grinned. "I am but an evoker, lord. I have left one cantrip of little use."

The words had scarcely left his lips when there was a great crash and a roar of moving rock. Suddenly, the world was falling down on them again.

She hurt all over. Why had none of the tales of adventure ever mentioned the constant pain and discomfort? Shandril rolled over, slowly, feeling many aches and twinges. Stones must have fallen on her. Nothing seemed broken, thank the G.o.ds. It was dark, and it felt as if she were somewhere underground. She could tell by the cold flash of the beljurils around her that she was still in the dracolich's grotto. Where was Narm? Then a gem flashed nearby, and she saw a hand inches from her own. Narm!

Helpless tears blinded her. The hand was cold, lifeless. Then another flash of the magical balhiir showed the hand-black hair, thick fingers. It wasn't Narm.

In relief and revulsion, she let go of the dead thing. Where to go? What to do?

There was the faintest of sc.r.a.ping sounds to her left. Someone was moving quietly over the stones. "Who's that?" Shandril demanded of the darkness, feeling for her dagger. "What do you want?"

"Molesting you sounds good" a broken voice croaked at her elbow.

Shandril jumped, startled.

The voice took on a gentler, more human tone in the darkness. "Well met. I am Tbrm, of the Knights of Myth Drannor. No noise now. It is best that no one think you still live. I will be your eyes and ears and hands until we can leave this trap. Wait here."

Shandril felt hope leap within her. She reached out only to feel rapidly receding cloth. "Thanks to you, Tbrm. Why would you aid a stranger?"

The answering voice was fainter as it moved away. "I have a weakness for fair ladies who reach for boot daggers and face the unknown. Now hush, and wait."

She sat down on the most comfortable stone she could find and composed herself to wait.

After a long time there was a stirring in the darkness.

"Tbrm?"

"Rauglothgor's spells search for us even now." Tbrrn whispered in her ear.

"Your Narm lives and is unharmed. I will take you to him as soon as the dracolich settles down. For now, we must abide here."

They both sat, and Shandril again felt the dead hand. "Tbrm, there's a dead man beside me." She took Tbrm's hand and guided it down in the darkness.

"G.o.ds!" he hissed. "It must be Lanseril. Jhessail told me it was Lanseril carrying you."

Tbrm slipped around her and Shandril heard him grunt in effort. He began moving rocks. "I'll help. If you roll the rocks to me, I can stop them here and you won't have to carry them as far."

"Dangerous," she heard him hiss through set teeth.

Then, in a gem-flash, she saw another man crouching with a dagger. "An enemy!"

she hissed.

Behind her there was a sudden grunt and then a gurgling moan. Tbrm spokealoud,"A dragon cultist, no doubt. Now quite dead. Now, Lady, I need you to help.We must get Lan-seril's body quickly. Never mind the noise; the time for quietis past."Tbrm handed Shandril a hooded lantern and slapped a dagger in her hand. Hemoved Lanseril's body onto his shoulder, and they moved quickly through theboulders. Their route rose and fell in the rubble. They heard the sound of battle several times but never encountered an enemy.Soon they saw torchlight, and a voice from beyond bawled out merrily, "Wherein the Lady's name have ye been?""Around and about," Tbrm called back. "I found Shandril and she foundLanseril,but he needs help. Have you spells left?""Aye, if the accursed balhiir stays elsewhere," Rathan rumbled, stridingtowards them. Jhessail was at his back, and Merith, and-Narm!Wordlessly, Shandril rushed forward to embrace him, pa.s.sing Tbrm like thewind. He smiled and said, "I raced back to tell you that some seventy riders arecoming up to the keep above us; dragon cult-ists, most likely. Shall we hitthem with spells or take them by surprise down here?""No magic remains to us that we can trust," Florin told him grimly."Well"-Tbrm grinned-"I hadn't planned on dying of old age, anyway."Shandril and Narm held each other, feeling that they could take on anything as long as they had each other to count on.Ibrm tapped Narm on the shoulder. "If you ever find yourself tired and needsomeone to stand in for you, just call my name."The look he got made him roar with laughter. Somehow, Narm didn't seeanythingfunny about the offer."The only place the few of us can defend against so many is that dead-endwhere Florin found you both. Let's move," Jhessail said.The torches flickered as they hurried through the twisting tunnels in warysilence. They saw no living creature. There was no sign of the balhiir.Finally,they reached the dead-end and readied their weapons."I presume you returned to Shadowdale to stow away your magic," Florin askedTbrm. "Did you ask the aid of Elminster?"The thief grinned. "Yes, but he always suspects me of youthful overexcitement. I know not how serious he thinks our situation. Idid mention the dracolich and that ought to intrigue him into putting in anappearance.""Done," Rathan rumbled, getting up from the healing of Lanseril. "He'll live a little longer."Lanseril sat up with a sigh and locked eyes with Shandril. "Permit me tointroduce myself, good lady. After all, if one must die, it is best to do soamong known friends. I am Lanseril Snowmantle, of. . . of. . ." The druid's words trailed away and he fell back with eyes closed."Is he dead?" Narm asked in alarm. "He's fine; just needs sleep. One must sleep to heal. But enough of imprudentdruids... let us speak of the chosen of the G.o.ds-clerics. Myself, forinstance." He drew himself up grandly, girth and all. "I am Rathan Thentraver, servantof Tymora.""Well met," Narm said politely.Rathan was bending to bring Shandril's hand to his lips. "Lady, with all thisrunning and butchering, there's scarce been time to get to know each other.Although I dare say ye two have managed it. I know what it is to be young,and in a hurry.""I must ask-you are a cleric," Shandril said, "yet you seem so-forgive me,ah,normal, much like the men I knew who came into the inn each night. Doesworshipof the Lady Tymora not change one?"Rathan nodded at her question. "We do not all live the stuff of rousingtales. For all the glory of victories and treasure won there are painful days ofmarching hurt, lying wounded, or swinging swords or maces in weary practice.The Lady helps those who help themselves. She doesn't ask for change, she justasks for our best." "Yes," Merith said, working on his blade with an oily rag, "the G.o.ds arestrange. Those who come against us now worship the monster that nearly slew us all." "The Cult of the Dragon," Shandril said slowly. "Why would anyone want toworship a dead dragon?""Don't worry about them," Tbrm boasted. "I keep around me a few magics thatshould . .. d.a.m.n!" The sparkling mist swirled around him. "Well, I had somemagic," he finished ruefully."Why did it leave us before?" Narm asked curiously, watching the coiling mistrise again above Tbrm, drifting along the ceiling over them all. It seemedlarger and somehow brighter."I think it went to the greatest concentration of magic," Rathan said, his eyesnot leaving the balhiir, "either the dra-colich's h.o.a.rd, or the spells ofRauglothgor. Seventy cultists, you said?" The cleric grunted."And a dracolich. Let us not forget the dracolich," Merith added dryly."Enough. Something comes!" Florin said sternly. The ranger rose, lifting histwo-handed sword as though it was a thing of feathers. At his back, theknightssnuffed out lights and readied themselves for battle. Merith, stridingcatlike over the rocks, joined Florin. Jhessail moved behind the rocks in line withthe entrance. Rathan moved to shield Lan-seril, saying gently, "Wake now."The druid's eyes flickered. Shandril heard him whisper, "Weapons out?" asTorm took her by the hand and led her and Narm to the left. The druid became ablur,and the balhiir moved toward the vanishing form. A small gray bird appearedwhere the druid had been.

Tbrm took the couple to a pile of hand-sized stones. "A thrown stone canspoilspells and aimed arrows better than the strongest art." The thief ofDeepingdalenoticed that the balhiir had drifted above Jhessail in an incriminating,winkingcloud. "Not too quick with those stones now," Torm whispered. "If they don't see usat first, we'll let them come ahead until there are some to slay in the midst ofour ring. Strike when they first notice us, not before."Beyond the entrance, a bobbing sphere of radiance could be seen floating inthe air, moving nearer as it danced and played about like a curious firefly. Thebalhiir gathered itself like a snake, then plunged forward along the roof ofthe cavern in silent haste, toward the light.The light shone on the dark-robed shoulder of a man wearing some sort oflargehat. He seemed to be alone as he clambered over the rocks of the entrance. He was white- bearded, and bore a long, k.n.o.bbly staff of wood a head taller than himself.Then the balhiir reached the glowing globe that hung at his shoulder. The globe'sradiance flared into the twinkling cloud, and then died."Put away that overlong fang, Florin, and light me a torch," said a somehowfamiliar voice, disgustedly. "Ye have a balhiir indeed. Young Tbrm managed tokeep to the truth for once.""Elminster!" the ranger said in calm, pleased greeting."I know, I know ... ye're all delighted to see me, or will be if ye ever manageto make a light to see anything by."Light flared up as the ranger relit his torch. Elminster stood in theflickeringlight looking at Shandril and Narm. "A fine dance ye've led me on, ye two . . . Gorstag was in tears when I left him, girl; nearly frantic, he was. Ye mighthave told him a bit more about where ye were going. Young folk have noconsideration, these days."Then he winked, and Shandril felt suddenly very happy. She cast the stone inher hand so that it crashed at the old mage's feet."Wall met, indeed," Elminster said dryly, "O releaser of balhiirs. We may aswell get to know each other before the dying starts."

*z* To Face the Tell ye of the baihiir? Ah, a curious creature, indeed. I hear it wasfirst-the short version, ye say? Very well; ye are paying. The short version is thus: acurious creature, indeed. Thank ye, goodsir; fair day to ye.The sage Rasthiavar of IraieborA Wayfarer's Belt-Book of AdviceYear of Many Mists"I expected to see the cultists here long ago," Torm said, slipping lightly uponto a high, flat rock. "Or at least to see something of the dracolich. Why so long?"

"Fear of us," Rathan said with a grin. Florin remained alert by the entrance,obviously expecting an attack."I'm so scared I can scarce stand still," Shandril said, "and you talk calmlyof strategies and jests! How do you do it?""We always talk before a fight, lady," Rathan answered. "One is excited andamong friends and may not live to see the next dawn." The fat clericshrugged."Besides . . . how better to spend the waiting? Much of what a bard calls'dashing adventure,' at least for us, is a little fast and hard running andfighting and lots and lots of waiting. We would grow bored wasting all thattime in silence." "Hmphh!" said Elminster. "All this jaw-wagging's the mark of minds too feebleto ruminate in solitude." Tbrm chuckled. Jhessail rose from the rocks, thesparkling and glowing baihiir moving above her. She went to Shandril, andtook her hand. "Elminster" the magic-user said, turning from Shandril to the ancient wizard, "there will doubtless be time for chatter later. Afterthe battle, most likely. Tell us now of the baihiir. That thing floating in theair above us has not approached you since destroying your globe, so I know youbear no magic item. It will rob you of your spells, as it has done me, if we donot deal with it. What say you?""Yes, yes," Elminster said severely. "I am not so addled that I forgot-thela.s.s or"-he indicated the shifting mist above the two women with the head of hisstaff-"that." He took off his battered hat and hung it upon the staff nowcradled in the angle of one arm. He then leaned back against a ma.s.siveboulder and cleared his throat noisily."The baihiir" the old sage began in measured tones, "is a most curiouscreature. Rare in the Realms and unknown in many of the pi-""Elminster!" Jhessail protested. "The short version. Please."The sage regarded her in stony silence for two long breaths. "Good lady! Thisis the short version. It would do ye good to cultivate patience ... a habit Ihave found useful these last five hundred winters or so." Pointedly he turned hishead away to speak solely to Shandril."Listen most carefully, Shandril Shessair." The young would-be thief tensedat the old mage's serious tone. "In this place, we lack all means for banishing or destroying this baihiir, save one, and ye alone can master it. Tis adangerousaffair for all of us, but for ye most of all. However, there is no other answer. Are ye willing to attempt it?"Shandril looked around at the adventurers who had become her friends. Then she gazed up at the strange, magic-eating, glowing wisp above her. Letting outher breath in a long, shuddering sigh, she said, "Yes. Tell me."

She met the old sage's eyes squarely, holding them with her own. Gently she disengaged herself from Nairn's encircling arm and stepped forward.

The old mage bowed to her solemnly. This drew surprised looks from the knights who watched. He then asked, "Narm, ye retain a cantrip, don't ye?" His twinkling blue eyes, grave and gentle, never left Shandril's.

"Yes," the apprentice magic-user replied.

"Then cast it while touching thy lady," he said, "and we shall stand clear.

This will draw the balhiir to ye both. Shan-dril, thrust both hands into the midst of the glow. Try not to breathe in any of it, and keep thy face-eyes, in particular- away from it. When Shandril touches the balhiir, Narm, ye must flee from her at once, as fast as ye can. All here, stand clear of Shandril from then on. Her touch will probably be fatal."

The great sage went forward to clasp the determined but trembling Shandril by the arms. The balhiir coiled above them both.

"Child," Elminster said then, voice gentle, "thy task is the hard one. The balhiir's touch will tingle and seem to burn. If ye would live, ye must keep thy hands spread within it and not withdraw. You will find you can take the pain-a cat of mine once did. Use the force of your own will to draw the fire into thee, and it will flow down your arms and enter your body. Succeed and ye will hold the balhiir's energy.

"Ye must then slay its will or perish in flames. Ye will know when ye have destroyed it. Master it as quickly as ye can, for the fire within thee will burn more the longer ye hold it. Ye can let it out from thy mouth, thy fingers, even thy eyes. However, beware of aiming the blasts carelessly. Ye could easily slay us all." Shandril nodded, dark eyes meeting his.

"Ye must go out through the entrance, if the dracolich or the cultists have not attacked us by then. Seek them out and blast them until ye have none of the balhiir's energy left. Let go of it all, or it may slay ye." Their eyes held for a time longer, and then he bent slowly to kiss her brow. His beard tickled her cheeks, and his old lips were warm. Her forehead tingled, and she felt somehow stronger. Shandril drew herself up and smiled at him.

"We shall be nearby," he said. "Narm will follow thee, and we shall guard ye both. Are ye ready?"

Shandril nodded. "Yes," she said, lips suddenly dry. "Do it now." She hoped the effort of keeping her voice steady did not show on her face. She raised her hands over her head as Elminster bowed again and drew back. Narm stepped forward reluctantly. The balhiir winked and swirled overhead, closer now, as if it were waiting for her to destroy it.

"Forgive me," Narm said, coming to her side, "but the cantrip I have willmake you-uh, belch."That struck her as so incongruously funny that her helpless laughter rose andrang out across the silent cavern. She was laughing as the magic was cast andthe balhiir descended upon her. She saw nothing, heard nothing, knew nothingbut the curiously coiling sparks and wispy mist which smelled ever so faintly ofrain upon leather, as the balhiir enveloped her.The pain began. Elminster had spoken the truth and Shandril wondered, onlybriefly, if he had ever done this himself. He must have, mustn't he? Shecould feel the sparks, the fire, the energy somehow flowing into her, stirring. Shebent her head back to gasp a breath, found herself staring at the dark rockabove her, heard her own voice sobbing, moaning, crying out. ... It hurt. Bythe G.o.ds, it hurfiThe tingling grew with the rising, burning pain, until her whole body wa.s.shaking and twitching. She had to fight to hold her hands out. She wanteddesperately to pull back and clutch herself in pain as the fire spread downher arms and across her chest. Shandril sobbed. Blue-purple fire was ticking up her rigid outstretched arms.Narm rushed toward her, some part of his mind noting as he screamed at her tostop that the flames were not touching her hair or her clothes."No!" he cried, reaching out desperate arms to her. As the young apprenticerushed past, Elminster extended a long, thin arm of his own and clutched hisshoulder. "No!" the great mage said in his turn. "Keep back, if ye love her!"Narm scarcely heard the words, but the hand gripped him like iron, and hecould not break free of its grasp. Shan-dril's sobs rose into a raw, high shriek."G.o.ds have mercy!" she screamed, and flames leaped from her mouth. Elminsterwaved imperiously at the knights watching in amazement to get down and seek cover. The fire raged down Shandril's arms and flared up from her shoulders. Shecould not see; flames of blue and purple rose from her nostrils and mouth. Shecould feel energy rolling restlessly around her arms and breast, coiling and flaring, drawing in... drawing all in. She could feel burning anger risingwithin her, too, crawling behind her throat and forcing her to roar and snarl.Flames rolled before her nose. Startled, she stopped, cast a burning gaze atJhessail, saw the flames reflected back from the mage's beautiful, anxiousface,and waved an apology as she looked away again. Her veins were boiling; herbodyshook. Something scuttled and writhed snakelike within her, awakening fear. Shecouldn't control it! She would bring death to these new friends, to Jhessail,to Florin, to the great Elminster, to Narm ... No! The flames rolled away, andshe could see Nairn's face, the reflected flames dancing on it, his eyes meetinghers and darkening instantly in pain. Then they were gone as Elminstersteppedin front of her love, grave eyes meeting hers, steadily, urging her on. Howlike Gorstag's those eyes were. She thought of Gorstag, kind and jovial, roughlywise and knowing. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth to fight the coilingthing within her. The heat and the pain rose suddenly and sharply, squeezingher heart in a blazing grip.And then she was through. Sharp pains pierced her knees as she fell hard ontothe rocks, white heat building within her. She was burning still, but shecould master it. Exulting, Shandril rose, and saw Florin and Merith, their blades flashing,fighting many men in the narrow mouth of the cavern. Her heartbeat wasdeafeningthunder in her ears and she barely heard Elminster's shout. The elf and theranger drew aside, steel flashing. Florin raised his blade in solemn salute as she rushed past them.Shandril knew she was shouting. White lightning lanced from her hands, mouth,and eyes, and crackled ahead of her. Wherever she looked men burned and died.She heard screams, and drowned them out with a long, triumphant shriek of herown, rising high as men were swept away in flames. Then the cavern mouth wasempty, blackened. Men lay still, blades smoking in crisped hands.Oh G.o.ds, what have I done? Six, seven ... twelve ... how many? Was there noend to them? Shandril recoiled in horror, fighting the fires raging within her.As she stood there, hands spread and smoking, a long skeletal neck swung down into the cavernopening, and two chilling eyes stabbed at her. Rauglothgor the Undying openedhis bony jaws, and the world exploded in flame.Shandril moaned, pain atop pain raged within her. Tears blurred the wall offlames; then she could see again, and Rauglothgor's horned skull-face wa.s.still before her. The dracolich's evil eyes met hers, and she was afraid.Those eyes laughed down at her with all the arrogance and strength of coldcenturies and dragonfire, and she was suddenly angry. This skeletal creature was laughing at her, secure in the knowledge that she was a girl, unskilled andunwise in the ways of battle and magic.She felt her anger grow. A rock-a mere rock! -had felled Symgharyl Maruel, inall her pride and cruel mastery of magic. Oh yes, she faced a dracolich now,but now she had the means to strike back! Burn, then, oh-so-mighty Rauglothgor,burn and know how it feels, you who burn us like so many flies scorched intorchfire . . . burn! Shandril flung her arms out as if she could stab the undead dragon with herfingertips, and from them crackled lightnings anew. Rauglothgor burned. Asullen radiance pulsed white within his bones. The dracolich reared up high androared in pain and fear. Stones raked from the cavern ceiling by his horns fell in ashower about him, and his great claws convulsed. He raised bony wings andwrithed, until finally the great undead dragon sank down, bones blazing withwhite, blue, and purple flames.So pa.s.sed Rauglothgor, Night Dragon of the Thunder Peaks; His bonesblackened,split, and burst asunder. All that remained crumbled as the flames died.

Shandril stumbled into the darkness, fire still raging within her. The cavernbeyond was dark and large, and there were torches flickering below her,glimmering and dancing on drawn swords. More cultists, just come, scrambledto meet her, blades raised-easy prey stumbling blindly, undoubtedly fleeing thegreat Rauglothgor beyond.Easy prey, indeed. Shandril opened her mouth and screamed as they came, andflames gushed forth. She raised her hands and smote them with spellfire,hurlingblasts again and again, until none stood against her. Shandril stumbled on,exulting,fire still blazing within her. Less, now- she could see and hear that theknights followed her."Shandril!" Narm's anguished voice broke through the roar of her fire.She shook her head and motioned him back. Fire from her hands fell harmlesslyagainst Elminster's ready barrier of force, and Narm stayed silent a.s.shandril ran on. Still the fires raged within her, and she feared to bury herself andthem all by blasting at the rocks around her. So she ran across the cavernand up its far slope, seeking the outside- and any more cultists who might lieahead. She found them, laden with treasure; though they soon enough dropped it tofind their blades when she blasted the first of them. Some raised arms to hurl spells, but magic missiles curled past her and struck them down before theart could be unleashed. It was too late for them to run or fight. In the face ofher spellfire, they only had time to die. As Shandril climbed past them, shethoughtthat they did that very well. More cultists met her in the cavern above, andmore died. Shandril climbed up through the tunnels to the keep, and daylight. As shemoved up the crumbling steps, blue flames licking the old stone where her bootstouched it, Shandril saw the mountain slopes below. No cultists were uponthem,and the sky was clear and cloudless. She turned, flames blazing around herswirling hair, and screamed, "Get back!" And the knights fell back.Elminster,his barrier still up, restrained Narm. Shandril turned to the sky and stonesabout her and spread her hands.She threw back her head and screamed her pain and exultation, loud and long,and flames rolled forth. Stones cracked and fell around her, the shards cuttingher,and she laughed. Daylight grew as the walls fell and stone crumbled. Shebacked down the stairs of the shattered keep as it fell away around her."Back! Back!" she cried to the knights behind her, and hurled spellfire forthagain. Pillars of broken wall stood like huge teeth against the sky beforetheytoo toppled. The keep was gone, completely fallen, and still the fires raged.

Oh Tymora, release me! Will this never end? And yet, look, you G.o.ds! Suchpower!Nothing stands against me-not the dracolich, not his worshippers, not the stones themselves-not even this mountain! Shandril laughed. Her blazing fingers found the throat of her tunic andrippedit open. From her bared breast poured out spellfire as she backed down thetunnel. Rock cracked and burst into fragments.The fires were less now. Shandril could feel herself shaking as the energyraced through her, pouring out of her breast and mouth. She was on her knees again,amid the scattered gold of the dracolich's treasure. Above her the ceiling of the great cavern was breaking away and falling. Spellfire crackled and spat.Suddenly Shandril felt very tired, and she swayed on her knees. Her gaze fellto her hands. The ring and armlet of etectrum and sapphires still gleamed andsparkled. She managed to bring her arms up before her as she fell forward,shivering, onto the cold stone.The fire was gone, and she was so cold, so numbingly cold."Shandril!" Narm screamed, slipping out of Elminster's g