Shandril's Saga - Spellfire Part 4

other again.

Above, Narm pushed away his plate with a sigh of contentment, and looked at Shandril lovingly for a long time. "Well, my lady," he said slowly, "we still know only a little about each other. Will you trade life stories with me?"

Shandril regarded him with thoughtful eyes and nodded. "Yes, so long as you believe me when I say I know little enough about my own heritage."

"Oh? Is that why you were so upset when Elminster asked last night?"

"Yes. I... I have never known who my parents were. As far back as memory goes,

have lived at The Rising Moon. Gorstag, the innkeeper there-you saw him, that night; it was he who asked for the company's peace, and stopped the knife being thrown at old Ghondarrath-he was like a father to me. I never knew a time before the inn was his, and never saw the rest of Deepingdale. I still have not. I wanted to-to know adventure, so I ran away with the Company of the Bright Spear, who were there the night you were-and that is truly all there is to tell."

"How came you to Myth Drannor?" (Underneath the bed, both cats c.o.c.ked an ear, but kept their eyes firmly on each other.) "I know not-some magic or other. I read a word written on a bone, and was trans-tel-what do you call it?"

"Teleported," Narm said eagerly. "Like Elminster did, to fetch the healing potions for Lanseril."

Shandril nodded. "I was teleported to a dark place with another teleport-door in it, and a gargoyle that chased me. I was carried to Myth Drannor. I wandered about in the ruins for a long time, and then I was caught by that lady mage- Symgharyl Maruel. You saw me then." (More interest from beneath the bed. Both cats looked up, intently.) "How, if you grew up only in the inn, do you know so

much of life, and of Faerun?" Narm asked curiously.

"In truth, I know little," Shandril said with an embarra.s.sed little laugh.

"What I do know, I heard from tales told in the taproom nights, by far travelers and the old veterans of the dale. You heard one, at least, I think. Splendid tales they were, too. ..."

"Could Gorstag be your father?" (Tense interest, beneath the bed.) Shandril stared at Narm, her face frozen upon the edge of a laugh, and then said, "No, I think not, although I am not as sure now as I was before you said that. We are not at all alike in face or speech, and he always seemed too old...

but he could be, you know." She sat a moment in silence. "I think I'd like Gorstag to be my father," she said slowly. Time pa.s.sed again. "But I don't think he is."

"Why did you never see Deepingdale? Did Gorstag keep you locked up?"

"No! It was just . . . there was always work. The cook would forbid me to do some things, and the older girls and chamber-ladies would forbid me others.

Gorstag said that outside the inn and the woods just behind it, the wide world-even Highmoon-was no place for a young girl, alone. I was no one's special friend, except his, and I was not big or strong enough to fetch and carry as much as the older girls, so I was never taken along on any errands." She shrugged. "And so the days pa.s.sed."

"What did you do in the inn?" Narm asked quietly.

"Oh, most anything. The chopping and washing and cleaning in the kitchenmostly,and fetching water, and cleaning the tables and floors in the taproom, andemptying the chamber pots, and lighting the hall-candles and the lamps in therooms, and cleaning rooms, and helping wash the bedding. There are manylittle tasks in the running of the inn, too, things seldom done, like repainting thesignboard or redaubing the chimneys, and I helped with those. It was mainlythe kitchen, though.""And they worked you like a slave all those years?" Narm burst out angrily."For what? You took no coin with you when you joined the company! Were you not even paid?"Shandril looked at him in shock. "I-no, not a single coin,"

she said, "but-" Nairn got up, furious, and paced about the room. "Youwere treated little better than a slave!" "No, I was fed, and given clothes,and-" "So is a jester; so is a mule, if you count its livery! Before theG.o.ds,you were done ill!"Shandril stared at him as he raged, and suddenly snapped, "Enough! You werenot there and cannot know the right of it! Oh, yes, I got sick of the drudgery,and ran... and left my only friends-Gorstag, and Lureene, too-and I sometimes wishI had not, and I hated Korvan, but... but-" Her face twisted suddenly and sheturned away. Narm stared at her back in astonished silence.He opened his mouth to speak, not knowing what to say, but Shandril saidcoldlyand clearly, as she turned about to face him, "I was happy at The RisingMoon,and I do not think Gorstag did me any ill. Nor should you judge him. But Iwould not quarrel with you."Narm looked at her. "I would not quarrel with you, my lady. Ever." He lookedaway, then, and Shandril saw how white he was, and that his hands weretrembling. She felt suddenly ashamed and abruptly turned aside as she felther face grow hot. She got up hastily and walked toward the door. (Beneath thebed,two silent cats, who had watched all this, looked at each other and almostsmiled.)When she turned, Narm was watching her, and the look in his eyes made thelast of Shandrils anger melt away into regret. She hurried back to him. "Oh,Narm,"she said despairingly, and his arms tightened about her."I am sorry, lady," he whispered, head against hers. "I did not mean to upsetyou, or darken Gorstag"s good name. I-Ilost my temper . . .""No, forgive me," Shandril replied. "I should have let you yell, and notrebuked you, and there would be no quarrel."

"Nay, the fault is mine. Forgiv-"

"Disgusting," Tbrm's cheerful voice said loudly behind them. "All this sobbing and forgiving each other all over the chamber-and not even wed yet!"

The knight gave them no time to reply as he strode forward to pluck the foodtray up from the table, saying, "Ter * *

ribte stuff, isnt it? And such small portions, too! So, have you heard eachother's life stories yet? Picked out any juicy bits to pa.s.s on to old, boredIbrm? Pledged undying love? Changed your minds? Decided what you want to donext? tea?" "Ah, fair morning, Tbrm" Narm replied cautiously, rightly ignoring all thequestions. "Are you well?""Never better! And you two?""Don't leer, it makes you look ill," said Shandril crisply. "I hear youprevented my capture, or worse, last night. My thanks.""Ah, it was nothing," Tbrm said, waving tray, bowls, and all perilously inthe air with one hand. "I-" "Nothing, was it?" Jhessail challenged him severely from the doorway. "Threehealing spells you took, and much moaning and complaining all the while, andit was nothing. Next time we'd do best to save the magic, and you'd appreciate yourfolly the more." She took him briskly by the arm. "Now come away . . . how'd youlike someone to burst into your bedroom, when you are alone with your love?""Well, that would depend very much on who they were," Ibrm began, butJhessail was propelling him firmly out the door."My apologies, you two," she said, over Tbrm's protests. "He's just come fromhis bride-to-be, Naera, and is in somewhat high spirits."Tbrm looked at her, as if dazed. "Bride-to-be?" he gasped. "B-b-but..." Hisvoice faded as he was marched out the door. "Well met, Torm," Narm said dryly as the door closed again. He and Shandrillooked at each other and burst into laughter. (Beneath the bed, both catslooked pained at Shan-dril's giggles.) When they subsided, the two embraced again,and sat in comfortable silence for a time. "What do you think this test will be, love?" Shandril asked. Narm shook hishead. "I know not. Tfour spellfire, surely, will be put to the test, but how Icannot guess." Narm frowned. "But another thing occurs to me ... this Gorstag mustknow who your parents are ... and by the way he put it to you, Elminster may wellknow, too."

Shandril nodded, "Yes. I want to know, but I have lived all these winters sofar without knowing. I would rather know you better, Narm... do not even know yourlast name let alone your parents.""Oh, have * not told- Tamaraith, it is, my lady. Sorry. I didn't realize Ihad told you so little as that."Shandril laughed. "We haven't exactly had overmuch time for talk, have we?Vbu may have told me, and I've forgotten in all this tumult. All has been soconfusing ... if this is adventure, it's a wonder any soul survives it long!"

(Two cats exchanged amused glances. The one that was tilistyl pointed at theother with a paw, then spread its paws questioningly, and put its head to oneside suspiciously. The other nodded and traced a sigil in the dust with one paw,saw that Ulistyl had seen and recognized it-her feline head nodded,satisfied-and hurriedly brushed it out of existence again. The two catssettled down at their ease together.)"Well said" Narm agreed. "I have not the love of constant whirl and dangerthat Tbrm does, that's one thing certain! Will we ever be able to relax and dojustas we please, do youthink?" "I'd like to try," Shandril said softly, her eyes very steady upon his, Narmnodded and took her in his arms again, faceset and serious. "I would like that, too, yes," was all he said. (Under thebed, the strange cat shook its head, rolled its eyes, andyawned soundlessly.)When their lips parted again, after a time, Shandril pushed Narm away alittle,and said, "So tell me the tale of your life. Who is this man I am to marry? Awould-be spell-caster, yes, but why? And why do you love me?" (Four eyesrolled,beneath the bed.)Narm looked at his lady, opened his mouth, and shut it again. "Ah . . I-G.o.ds,I know not why I love you! I can tell you things about you that I love, and howI feel, but as to why-the G.o.ds will it, perhaps. Will you accept that answer?Poor it may be, but it is honest, and no base flattery, swear? He paced,agitated."I promise you this," he said finally, turning by the window, "that I willlove you, and as I learn the whys, I will tell them to you. How's that?"

"My lord," Shandril answered him, eyes shining, "I am honored that you are so honest with me. Pray that we both remain so with each other, always. I approve,yes-now get on with your tale! I would know!" (Under the bed, two cats burstinto soundless laughter.) Narm chuckled and nodded."Yes, I tarry. Know, then: I was born some twenty-two winters ago, in the farcity of Silverymoon in the North. I don't recall it; I was still not a winterold when my parents Journeyed to Triboar, and thence to Waterdeep, and-""You have seen great Waterdeep?" asked Shandril, awed. "Is it as they say,all bustle, and gold, and beautiful things from all Faerun in the streets?"Narm shrugged. "It may well be so, but I cannot say. I was there but a week,and still not a year in measure, when my parents moved on. We moved about theSword Coast North often, with the trade. My father was Hargun Tamaraith, called'the Tail,' a trader. I think he had been a ranger, before he fell ill. He had theshaking-fever; he dealt in weapons and smith-work. My mother wasFythuera-Fyth,to myself and my sire-and her last name I never knew. They had been wed longbefore I was born. She played the harp and traded as my father's equal. I know not if ever she had been an adventurer. They were good people."He stared into nothingness for a moment, and Shandril laid her hand upon his.His face was sad, but it was wistful, more than upset. "They are both dead,of course," he added calmly. "Slain in a sorcerous duel in Baldur's Gate when was eleven-burned up in flames when the ferryboat they were on was struck by afireball flung at the mage Algarzel Halfcloak by a Calis.h.i.te archmage,Kluennh Tzarr. Algarzel flew out of the way; the ferry could not. All aboard who had no part in the dispute perished. Algarzel was slain later, or escaped intoanother plane, some in the city said. Whatever, he has not been seen since."Kluennh Tzarr left for his citadel in triumph. It is said that dragons servehim, and that he has many slaves. One day, if another does not get therefirst,I will be his death." His soft, cold tone chilled Shandril as he walkedslowlyaround the chamber, arms swinging easily, eyes remote. Under the bed, thecats nodded approvingly.

P *

"Ib defeat an archmage I needed magic-or at least, needed to know its ways. Iknew not, then, that one cannot hope to separate them. So I tried to become an apprentice." He laughed, a little bitterly, at the memory."Imagine it, love-a ragged, barely lettered boy, alone and with no wealth tobuya mage's time or trouble, in Baldur's Gate where there are a dozen homelessboyson every street in the docks, pestering every mage that pa.s.ses! I onlyescapedbeing turned into a toad-or just burned to ashes- by Mystra's will. . .nothingelse can explain it."One day, two years after I started, a mage said yes. A pompous, sourmage-Marimmar, my master His pride weakened him. He never worked tostrengthenhis art where he lacked spells or technique, in those places where hecouldn't-or wouldn't-see that he was weak. But I learned much from him,perhapsmore than from a smooth and masterful worker of the art. He had a temper, yes,and little patience-and he was perhaps the laziest man I have ever met, so heneeded an apprentice to do all the drudge-work. Yfou know the drudge-work;'Narm added with a sudden smile. Shandril matched it ruefully."Marimmar disliked conflict, so he never fought mages to gain theirspells-andhe was obviously shining-proud that no mage ever challenged him. Those ofreal power saw him as a posturing know-nothing, with no spells worth seizing.Those of lesser power feared always that he must have something up his sleeve, heseemed so confident and fearless. His confidence killed him, in the end. Henearly tookme with him.

"He saw the elves' abandonment of the Elven Court and Myth Drannor within it as his chance to become a great mage by seizing all the magic that he thought-asmost mages seem to think-is just lying around in the ruins. I doubt there'smuch to be easily found. Anything that was has been seized already by the priestsof Bane, or whoever it really was that summoned all the devils there."The devils slew Marimmar, and almost killed me, too. Lanseril and Illistylof the knights rescued me-they are so kind, Shandril, I can scarce believe it,after all the swaggering heroes I've seen prancing down city streets-and hereI * *

am. I went back to Myth Drannor because . . . because I knew not where to go,really, and because I-I felt I owed it to the crusty old windbag, and becauseI could not sleep for fear of devils until I had faced them again. But by somemiracle of Mystra, or the whim of Tymora or another, I was not slain, and I saw you. The rest you know." Narm turned thoughtful eyes upon her. "Forgive me ifI have talked too long, my lady, or spoken bluntly or harshly of those nowdead. It was not my intent to be rude or to upset you. I said what you asked, and now am done." Shandril shook her head. "I am not upset, but much relieved, I had to know, yousee." She rose and turned back the bed. "And now, my lord, if you will be sogood as to drag that chest over in front of the door, we'll to bed." Shesmiled slyly. "The testing is to be late; I must have sleep first. Will you see meto sleep?"Narm nodded. "Aye, willingly." One cat rolled its eyes again, and became arat,and flashed over to the wall before Illistyl could even stretch. It dwindledand twisted and was a centipede again, and gained the sill while Narm was stillheaving the chest toward the door, with many a grunt, and Shandril washangingher robe upon a hook on one post of the canopy. An interested Illistyl saw araven suddenly appear outside the window and fly soundlessly away. She noddedand curled up for a nap. Eavesdropping was one thing, but there were limits . . . Narm finished with the chest, straightened up slowly, and caught sight ofShandril in the mirror. Two bounds and he was on the bed. Few delights come,it is said, to he who tarries.

Spells to DeistHigh magic is strange and savage and splendid for its own sake, whether one'sspells change the Realms about or no. A craefter who by dint of luck, work,skill, and the mercy of the Grea t Lady Mystra comes to some strength in artis like a thirsty drunk in a wine cellar-he or she can never leave it alone. Andwho can blame such a one? It is not given to all to feel the kiss of such power.Al.u.s.triel, High Lady of StiverymoonA Harper's SongYear of the Dying StarsJhessail slipped softly into the bedchamber. Illistyl straightened up fromwhere she had dragged the chest aside, and they shared a smile. "Worth hearing?"Jhessail asked softly, and Illistyl nodded.Til tell you later?' the young theurgist replied quietly as together theywent to the bed. Narm and Shandril lay asleep in each other's arms among thetwisted covers. The two spellcasters gently laid one of the bed furs over thesleepingcouple before Jhessail leaned close to Shandril and said, "It is time. Rise,hurler of spellfire. Elminster awaits."Shandril shivered in her sleep and clutched Narm more tightly. "Oh, Narm,"she murmured. "How it burns . .." The two spellcasters exchanged glances, and Jhessail carefully laid a hand onShandril's shoulder. There came a swift tingling into her fingertips."She holds yet more power;' Jhessail whispered, "and this *

cannot be of the balhiir, not after so long a time and so much hurled forth.It's as Elminster suspected." She bent again to Shandril's ear. "Awaken,Shandril! We await you." The eyelashes below her flickered."Narm," Shandril said in a sleepy murmur, gaining strength. "Narm, we arecalled ... ah ... ohh. Where-?" Shandril raised her head and looked around. In the soft, leaping glow of the lamp Illistyl had just lit she saw the two ladiesof art standing over her. She tensed involuntarily to hurl forth the spellfirewithin, then relaxed. "My pardon, Lady Jhessail, Lady Illistyl. I did notknow you."She shook her head as if to clear it and turned to Narm. "Up, love; arise.""Eh? Oh. G.o.ds, is it time already?""It is," Jhessail said gently. "Elminster awaits you.""Oh, G.o.ds belch!" Narm said, rubbing his eyes and flinging back the fur.Hastilyhe pulled it up again. "Ah-my clothes?"Shandril burst into weak, helpless laughter, and handed him his robe.Illistyl smiled. "Jhessail and I will wait in the hall. Come when you areready."In the hallway, the theurgist said to Jhessail, "Tell no one yet, Jhess, b.u.t.the Simbul came in by the window and listened, even as I did."Eyebrows lifted, and then lowered again. "What did you both hear, aside fromlovemaking?" Jhessail asked, lips twisted in amus.e.m.e.nt."The life-tale of Narm Tamaraith, full and open and unadorned. His mother, atleast, may well have been a Harper?' Illistyl replied, refering to themysterious group of bards and warriors that served the cause of good in theRealms. Jhessail nodded. "He thinks so?" Illistyl shook her head."The thought has not crossed his mind," she said. "It was the description."Jhessail nodded again as the door opened, and the two hastily dressed guestsof the dale stepped out. Narm looked at the two ladies curiously. "I mean nodisrespect," he said slowly, "but is there a secret way into that room? Imean... that chest..."

"We workers of art have our dark secrets," said Illistyl crisply. "I dragged it.""Oh," Narm said, surprised. "I see. Uh, sorry." They went down the stairs,nodded to the guards and went out into the night. It was very warm and still.Selune shone brightly overhead. Merith and Lanseril waited with mules. "Wellmet," the elf said softly."Where are we bound?" Shandril asked quietly, as he knelt to help her intothe saddle. "Harpers' Hill," Merith replied, and they set off. Shadow-dale lay darkaround them. Looking about, Narm could see the watchful guardposts atop the towerand the Old Skull Tor behind them and upon the bridge and at the crossroadsahead. Silently the guards watched as the small party rode at ease through the daleand into the trees. It was very dark, and the mules slowed to a walk on the narrow forest trail.Someone saluted Merith quietly. As they pa.s.sed, Shandril saw a grim man indark leather, with a drawn sword. "A Harper," Jhessail said simply. "There willbe others." The forest changed as they traveled on. The trees became larger and older,growing closer together. The darkness of their foliage, which now blocked themoonlight, became deeper and somehow quieter. Thrice more they pa.s.sed guards,and at last came up a steep slope into a clear s.p.a.ce. Torm and Rathan waitedthere, with others standing beyond. The thief and the cleric greeted themwith quiet smiles and encouraging pats, and took their mules.Merith drew Narm to one side, proffering a cloak. "Remove your clothes andleave them here," he said. "Cover yourself with this." Away along the bare hilltop,Jhessail was doing the same with Shandril. "Boots, too-the ground issoft." "Will this be ... dangerous?" Narm asked Merith.The elf shrugged. "Aye, but no more so than spending your night any other way,if it's death you fear. Come, now."Elminster stood in the moonlight at the center of the hilltop with Florin andStorm. As Shandril and Narm were brought to them, Elminster scratched his nose and said, " Sorry to get ye from bed for all this mystery and ceremony, b.u.t.tis necessary. I need to know thy powers for certain.

Shall we begin, the earlier to be done?"The knights embraced Narm and Shandril, and then left them alone on thehilltopwith the old sage. He drew from his robes a small, battered book and handedit to Shandril. "First," he said, "can you read this?"The book was old, but upon its brown and crinkled pages were runes sparkling as clear and bright as if they'd only just been set down. Shandril stared atthem,but she recognized nothing. Even as she looked, the runes began to writhe andcrawl, moving on the page before her as if they were alive. She shook her head and handed the book back. "No," she said, rubbing her eyes. Elminster nodded, opened the book to a certain page, and extended it to Narm.

"And you? Only this page, mind-at the top; tell me the words aloud as ye can make them out." Narm nodded and peered in his turn.

'"Being A Means Both Efficient And Correct For The Creation Of-'" he began.

Elminster waved him to silence, took the book back, and selected another page.

Narm looked longer this time, forehead furrowed in concentration.

"I-I... 'A Means To Confound; I think it says here," Narm said at last, "but

cannot be sure even of that; nor is a word more clear to me, anywhere upon this page"

Elminster nodded and said, "Enough, and well enough." He turned to Shandril.

"How do ye feel now?"

Shandril looked at him with a little frown. "Well in head and body, or at least I feel nothing amiss, but there is in me a . . . stirring, a feeling ... a tingling."

Elminster nodded slowly, as if unsurprised, and looked to Narm. "Have ye any spells or cantrips in thy head?"

Narm shook his head. "No. I-I have scarce had the time to study, since ..."

His voice trailed off under Elminster's grin.

"Aye, and good." From his robes, he drew forth a scroll, glanced at it, and handed it to Narm. "Read this" he commanded, "and cast it-at thy lady. Tis but a light spell; ye cannot harm her." He stepped back to watch.

Narm glanced around at the bare, moonlit hilltop, feeling the watching eyes he knew to be there in the trees. He took a slow, deep breath, and then cast the spell as carefully as he had done the first time ever. He turned and centered the

art upon Shandril, who stood waiting.

Light flared around her, and then in a moment died. Elminster stepped near, looking at Shandril. Nodding at the fire in her eyes, he then produced another scroll. He gave this to Narm and said, "As before. It will not harm her?'

Narm cast another light spell, and again it was absorbed. Shandril's eyes glowed brighter. A third time Elminster handed Narm a scroll, and he cast light.

Shandril's body took it in. The old mage came near to Shandril and waved Narm away but did not touch her. He then said to Shandril, "Lady, do ye see that boulder, there? Shatter it with thy spellfire, if ye will."

Shandril looked at him, trembling a little, the fire leaping in her eyes, and said only, "Yes." Once again tingling fire coiled and raced within her, roiling about in her veins. She bore down on it with her will, thrusting it down one arm until it built, to a soundless thunder.

From her hand burst forth spellfire in a long, rolling gout. The boulder was enveloped in orange flame, building to white intensity. The three could feel heat upon their faces, and there was a sharp crack as the stone shattered.

Shards sprayed in a small shower upon the hillside as the flames died away.

Silence stretched for long moments.

Elminster turned to Narm. "Stand back, now," he warned. "Over there, beneath that tree." The mage cast a light spell of his own. It, too, was absorbed.

Elminster then cast two more. Then he created a wall of force to one side,and nodded toward it. Shandril raised her hands and hurled fire. The flames clawed at the wall and raged, becoming a blinding inferno a.s.shandril fully bent her will upon the barrier. When at last she gave up and let herflame die, shrugging, the wall still stood. Elminster nodded again, and asked, "Howdo ye feel?"Shandril shrugged. "A little scared, but I neither hurt nor feel strange in anyway." She pushed with her will, letting flames leap up from her palms andthen wink out in a little spurt, and added, "I hold more yet"The sage nodded and said, "I shall raise a wall of fire there, before thee.When I nod, kneel before it and hurl spellfire through it, angling upward into thesky so as not to harm the forest. Only a little, mind thee. Cast it only for the length of alongbreath, then cease."Shandril smiled, flames dancing in her eyes, and said, "As you will ... ashort but steady burst of flame." Spellfire roared through the wall of flames asthough it was not there, and roared onward, drawing the mage's flames with itWhen the burst ended and curled away from the hilltop with a rippling,tearingnoise of air, the wall of flames was gone. Flames dimmed and faded in thestarlit sky above, and then all was gone as though it had never been.Shandril got up from her knees where she had been watching the beauty of the flames inthe sky above her, and sighed."Are ye well?" Elminster asked, intently. Shandril nodded, and the mage said,"Right, then." He raised his hands and quietly cast a bolt of lightning ather. It crackled and struck, and Shandril reeled. Narm cried out involuntarily,but already Shandril stood strong again, and the lightning was gone. The smell ofthe bolt hung in the air about her as she turned, bleeding a little fromwhere she had bitten her lip, and smiled rea.s.suringly at Narm."How are ye now?" Elminster asked."Well enough," she said. "I feel weary, a little, but not sick or strange.""Good," the old mage said gently. "I shall cast more lightning at thee.Gather and hold it as long as ye can. If it starts to hurt thee, or ye feel ittryingto burst out and ye cannot stop it, fair enough. Let it flow out at the sky or at the rock you struck earlier. Do not release it until then, so that I mayroughly learn thy capacity. We have healing means near at hand. Be notafraid." Shandril merely nodded and stood waiting, hands at her sides. When the sage'sbolt struck her, she flinched but then stood quiet as Elminster hurled boltafter bolt at her. The air about the hill crackled and tingled upon the facesof those who watched. Narm trembled and twisted his hands about in the robe he wore, but could not look away.

More and more energy the delicate, aged fingers of the old mage poured intoNarm's lady, and she stood silent and unmoving. At last she bent at the waistwith a sob, threw her arms wide as she took a few steps to steady herself, and burst into a pillar of coiling flame."Mother Mystra!" Narm prayed hoa.r.s.ely, in horror. Merith laid hands upon himquickly then, to prevent him running to his beloved-and a fiery death. Narmscreamed Shandril's name and wrenched at Merith's grasp. He dragged thesilent elf forward until Florin arrived to set his strength against the youngspellcaster's. Narm struggled helplessly in their iron grip. On the hilltopabove them a pillar of living flame writhed where Shandril had stood.Abruptly, flames shot from it down the hill to strike the boulder. There was a flash, and those watching ducked as small red-hot chunks of stone showereddown through the leaves around them. Jhessail hastily worked a wall of force from a scroll she had held ready, and Lanseril quenched those fires that startedaround them. A smoking scar was all that was left where the boulder had stood. On thesummit,a pillar of flame roared up as if to touch the glimmering stars. Elminsterstood watching calmly, a cooling fragment of stone cupped in his hands.Slowly, the roaring flames winked out. Shandril stood nude in the moonlight,sniffing curiously at the sharp smell of the scorched ends of her hair, whichwas otherwise untouched. Her cloak had burned away to nothing, but the flameshad not marked her. Narm burst free of Merith and Florin's grasps and ran across the scorched rock, heedless of the pain in the bare soles of his feet.Elminster moved to intercept him, but it was not necessary. Shandril herselfbacked away. "Keep back, love!" she warned. "I know not if my touch willslay,right now." Narm came to a halt barely a pace away. "I am well" she addedgently. Her long hair rippled and stirred in the calm air as if with a lifeof its own. "What can you do?" Narm asked Elminster in anguish."I will touch her myself, to end the test," the old mage replied firmly. "I am protected by potent spells, where ye are not. A moment, if you can containyourself." He strode forward and took Shandril's hand in his own."Well met, sir," Shandril said with grave courtesy. Narm waited tensely."At your service, madam," Elminster replied, bowing. His face was expressionless, but his eyes twinkled. Narm caught his gaze andshook his fists in impatience."Is she safe?" he almost pleaded. The sage nodded, and was fairly bowled overbyNairn's rush to embrace his lady. He stepped back and waved at the trees.Harpers, knights, and guardsmen of the dale appeared from all sides.Elminster looked at Narm and Shandril, smote his forehead suddenly andmuttered,"G.o.ds, I must be getting old!" and swept off his cloak to cast it aboutShandril's shoulders. As he did, the stone he held suddenly twisted from hisgrasp and grew. In an instant he was facing a strange-eyed woman in dark,tattered robes, whose long silvery hair strayed wildly about her shoulders.

All around, approaching Harpers reached for their blades."Well met" Elminster said calmly and turned to Shandril. "Shandril Shessair,"he said formally, "I present to thee The Simbul, Queen of Aglarond." There was amurmur from those who approached, and then silence, as all waited for theinfamous archmage to speak. Shandril gently freed herself from Narm, andbowed solemnly in greeting. The Simbul almost smiled."Impressive, young lady," she said, "but dangerous- perhaps too dangerous.Elminster... all of you... have you thought on this? Here stands a power you mayhave to silence. She may have to be destroyed." There was a babble of talkand then a hush. Shandril stared, white-faced, at the archmage, but it wasElminster who moved forward to stand between them and speak."No," said the old mage. He glared around at all on the hilltop with veryold,sad eyes. "Ye," he said to The Simbul, "I, and all gathered here now, aredangerous. Should we then be destroyed out of hand because of what we mightdo? Nay! It is the right and the doom of all creatures who walk Faerun to do astheywill; it is why we of the art frown so at those who charm often, or infrivolous cause. "Not even the G.o.ds took unto themselves the power to control ye or me sotightlythat we cannot walk or speak or breathe save at another's bidding! It istheir will that we may be free to do as we may. Slay a foe, sure, or defend thyself.a.gainst a raider-but to strike down one who may some dayOF menace thee? That is as monstrous as the act of the usurper who slays allbabies in a land, for fear of a rightful heir someday rising against him!""Aye. Well said," Florin agreed grimly, in quiet, deliberate challenge of thewoman in black who stood among them. No other spoke. They waited in silencefor the reaction of The Simbul. The witch-queen stood in their midst, alone and terrible. They had heard ofthe awesome art she commanded, that held even the Red Wizards of Thay at bay, andhurled back their armies time and time again to preserve her kingdom. Theyknew the tales whispered of her temper and cruel humor and mighty power. Narmcould smell their fear, there on the hilltop. Not a drawn sword moved.The Simbul nodded, slowly. "Aye, great one," she said to Elminster, "youtrulyhave the wisdom lore grants you in these lands. I agree. If others had notalso agreed so, many winters gone, I would not have lived to stand here uponHarpers'Hill now." She stepped around Elminster, and he did not bar her way.Narm, however, moved protectively in front of Shandril even as The Simbuladvanced. She came to a halt and stood facing him. "I have trusted," shewhispered. Her eyes were very proud. "Will you not also trust me?" Narm stared at her for a long, tense breath, and then nodded slowly and stepped aside.

The Simbul glided up to Shandril and said, "My forgiveness, if you will take it.

wish you well."

Shandril nodded, swallowed, and said softly, "I-I hold nothing against you, great lady." She smiled, tentatively.

The Simbul smiled, too, and added, "A gift for you." Her hand went to the broad black belt about her waist and drew from it a plain bra.s.s ring. She leaned close until Shandril could smell a faint, strange, stirring perfume at her throat.

Shandril had never seen eyes so steel gray, stern, and sad all at once. "Use this only when all else is lost," The Simbul whispered. "It will take you, and anyone whose flesh touches yours directly when you use it, to a refuge of mine.

It will work only once, mind, and only one way. The word of command is on the inside of the band, invisible except when you heat the ring. Do not speak it aloud until you intend to use it.

Your spellfire will not harm this ring." Cold hands touched Shandril's and pressed the ring, strangely warm, into her palm.

"One last thing" said The Simbul. "Walk your own way, Shandrii; let no one control you. Beware of those who stand in shadows." She smiled again and kissed the wondering Shandril gently on the cheek. Then she patted Elminster's arm wordlessly and turned in sudden haste. Her form writhed and rose, until a black falcon soared up among the stars and was gone.

Eyes watched in silence until she could be seen no more, and then everyone spoke at once. Amid the hubbub, Elminster said, "My thanks, Shandril. The test is at an end. Narm, take thy lady home, and sleep. Keep the spellfire that remains within thee until ye have need of it. It will not harm thee to carry it, I know now. Guard well thy ring. A gift from The Simbul is rare indeed." Behind them, Florin was quietly arranging a ring of guards to be about the couple as they returned to the tower.

"Think on this, and let us know when ye have decided," Elminster said as they went down from the hilltop. "Jhessail and fllistyl will train thee, Narm, if ye wish, and I shall show thee what I can of working together spellfire and spells.

The cloak is thine to keep. It will protect thee in battle. It is old, and its magic is not strong, so beware not to drain its magic without intention. It is easy enough to do." The sage coughed. "Go now," he said, "and get thee to bed-where these old bones would be, if I had any sense. After all, you could be needed to save Faerun tomorrow, after highsun sometime, I suppose."

Shandril nodded, suddenly exhausted. "Thank you, lord," she said-Elminster winced at the t.i.tle-"I must sleep soon, or fall down where I stand."

"Thanks, Elminster" Narm said with sudden boldness. "Good fortune this night and hereafter. After I get our clothes back from the knights, we shall go and

think on your lords for a breath or maybe two before falling asleep."

They chuckled together, and then the young couple went down the hill, the guards closing in around them. Florin and Merith flew watchfully above, leaving the sage behind with

Jhessail and fllistyl.

"Satisfied?" the sorceress of Shadowdale asked her sometime master.

Elminster looked at the scorched marks on the rock at his feet. "I thought so,"

he said softly. "The power to unleash spellfire. Her mother had it." Both lady knights looked at him, startled, but Elminster merely smiled that distant smile that warned he would give no answer, and asked, "So what did ye hear of interest, Illistyl? Ye may edit such things as ye feel mine aged ears should not hear, out of consideration for my vulnerable heart."

"Well, then" Illistyl said, with an impish grin, "there is precious little to tell."

The mist was still streaming through the trees when Kor-van from The Rising Moon, arrived at the butcher's shop. "Morning; said a stooped man the cook had never seen before. The stranger leaned upon the yard fence by the door, the mud of much travel on his boots and breeches.

"Morning," Korvan replied sourly. He had come for meat, not a lot of talk.

Since that little brat Shandril had run off, he'd had to get his meat earlier, at a time of the day when he'd rather be abed yawning and dozing.

"Buying lamb? IVe thirty good tails in the pen there, just down from Battledale." The sheepherder jerked his head at the muddy yards behind him.

"Lamb? Well, I'll look ... if I can find two good hand-counts among them, I might do business with you," Korvan said grudgingly. The herder stared at him.

"Two hand-counts? Have you a large family?"

"No, no," Korvan said sourly as they went in. "I buy for the inn, The Rising Moon, down the road."

"Do you? Why, there's a tale I have for you, then!" the herder said, with sudden interest. "It's about that young girl who worked at the inn and left."