the Lost Spell from falling into worse hands than mine,” Malchor Harpell
confided. “Mine, I trust. Those of others, I cannot—least of all most of the mages
gathered in this room.”
A noble reason indeed—if it were true. But was it? To have ridden herd on as wild
a family as the Harpells of old, Malchor must have become a master manipulator. Was
this merely what he thought Lord Halaunt might admire, or approve of? Or did he mean
it?
“I would use it for revenge,” Tabra said softly, her mismatched eyes flashing.
Oh, yes, this one meant the words she spoke.
This one will be trouble
, Alusair thought at Elminster along the Weave, catching his eye.
Yet I like her
.
We both like trouble
, El replied.
Keep an open mind; ’tis early, yet
.
Early has a distressing habit of becoming late too soon and all too swiftly
, the Steel Regent of Cormyr retorted, and he sent her a wry and wordless burst of
acceptance.
They’d promised Ganrahast that the Lost Spell would be yielded only into “responsible
hands,” but they were both beginning to share the clear mistrust the Royal Magician
had greeted that statement with. The hands of these mages were quite likely responsible
for many dark things.
They both kept on strolling and talking, Lord Halaunt collecting answers, and Elminster
collecting more badinage than anything else.
Shaaan’s reply to Lord Halaunt was that she liked to collect spells and study them,
and this magic promised to be
very
interesting.
The woman lies like a snake, was Alusair’s silent judgment.
Maraunth Torr offered the opinion that every wizard of power and achievement sought
to gain every last spell they could, and he was no different. Some mages might deny
that hunger, but they were deceivers; he himself had long ago passed all need to practice
deceit.
Oh? Really? I doubt it, my lord wizard
. Alusair couldn’t keep a sneer of disbelief out of her thoughts.
I doubt it
very
much
.
Alastra told Lord Halaunt that she hoped to do some good in the world if she had the
Lost Spell, and assured him that the very idea of ruling some place made her shudder.
She then demonstrated that shuddering, in a way that displayed more of her bosom rather
deliciously. Alusair made both of Lord Halaunt’s eyebrows go up, but inwardly felt
not the slightest astonishment. Someone was bound to try, ah, fleshly wiles, and Alastra
at least had the looks for it.
She
was
surprised when Yusendre of Nimbral tried the same tactic, but even more boldly—making
a whispered promise—and confessed to a sensual longing to experience and master new
spells. Was every last female mage here going to rush straight to the seduction gambit?
Even when their looks couldn’t compete? What happened to using sharp wits to come
up with alternatives?
By the Purple Dragon, the two women could warm a chill mansion all by themselves.
Perhaps they should be installed in fireplaces at either end of the grandrooms, so
the others could relax cozily of evenings …
The other Elder of Nimbral, Skouloun, gave more or less the same reason as Malchor,
asserting that he himself was the most trustworthycustodian of the Lost Spell—for he would use it to smite evildoers, tyrants, and those
who hoarded magic, not to mention rout the most dangerous monsters all across Faerûn,
to usher in a new era of peace and prosperity, to better the lives of all.
Ye gods, what wind! It was tiring just listening to Skouloun, not that she believed
him.
How fare you, El? Growing tired of the sheer piffle being served up yet? I am
.
Lass, lass, after so many centuries, I breathe in piffle with every passing moment,
and speak it out almost as often. Look upon it as entertainment, lass—as royalty,
I’d’ve thought ye would have resorted to that tactic for retaining thy sanity long
ago
.
The ghost sent him a mental snort.
Retaining my sanity? Too late, Sage of Shadowdale!
Much
too late
.
El sent
confided. “Mine, I trust. Those of others, I cannot—least of all most of the mages
gathered in this room.”
A noble reason indeed—if it were true. But was it? To have ridden herd on as wild
a family as the Harpells of old, Malchor must have become a master manipulator. Was
this merely what he thought Lord Halaunt might admire, or approve of? Or did he mean
it?
“I would use it for revenge,” Tabra said softly, her mismatched eyes flashing.
Oh, yes, this one meant the words she spoke.
This one will be trouble
, Alusair thought at Elminster along the Weave, catching his eye.
Yet I like her
.
We both like trouble
, El replied.
Keep an open mind; ’tis early, yet
.
Early has a distressing habit of becoming late too soon and all too swiftly
, the Steel Regent of Cormyr retorted, and he sent her a wry and wordless burst of
acceptance.
They’d promised Ganrahast that the Lost Spell would be yielded only into “responsible
hands,” but they were both beginning to share the clear mistrust the Royal Magician
had greeted that statement with. The hands of these mages were quite likely responsible
for many dark things.
They both kept on strolling and talking, Lord Halaunt collecting answers, and Elminster
collecting more badinage than anything else.
Shaaan’s reply to Lord Halaunt was that she liked to collect spells and study them,
and this magic promised to be
very
interesting.
The woman lies like a snake, was Alusair’s silent judgment.
Maraunth Torr offered the opinion that every wizard of power and achievement sought
to gain every last spell they could, and he was no different. Some mages might deny
that hunger, but they were deceivers; he himself had long ago passed all need to practice
deceit.
Oh? Really? I doubt it, my lord wizard
. Alusair couldn’t keep a sneer of disbelief out of her thoughts.
I doubt it
very
much
.
Alastra told Lord Halaunt that she hoped to do some good in the world if she had the
Lost Spell, and assured him that the very idea of ruling some place made her shudder.
She then demonstrated that shuddering, in a way that displayed more of her bosom rather
deliciously. Alusair made both of Lord Halaunt’s eyebrows go up, but inwardly felt
not the slightest astonishment. Someone was bound to try, ah, fleshly wiles, and Alastra
at least had the looks for it.
She
was
surprised when Yusendre of Nimbral tried the same tactic, but even more boldly—making
a whispered promise—and confessed to a sensual longing to experience and master new
spells. Was every last female mage here going to rush straight to the seduction gambit?
Even when their looks couldn’t compete? What happened to using sharp wits to come
up with alternatives?
By the Purple Dragon, the two women could warm a chill mansion all by themselves.
Perhaps they should be installed in fireplaces at either end of the grandrooms, so
the others could relax cozily of evenings …
The other Elder of Nimbral, Skouloun, gave more or less the same reason as Malchor,
asserting that he himself was the most trustworthycustodian of the Lost Spell—for he would use it to smite evildoers, tyrants, and those
who hoarded magic, not to mention rout the most dangerous monsters all across Faerûn,
to usher in a new era of peace and prosperity, to better the lives of all.
Ye gods, what wind! It was tiring just listening to Skouloun, not that she believed
him.
How fare you, El? Growing tired of the sheer piffle being served up yet? I am
.
Lass, lass, after so many centuries, I breathe in piffle with every passing moment,
and speak it out almost as often. Look upon it as entertainment, lass—as royalty,
I’d’ve thought ye would have resorted to that tactic for retaining thy sanity long
ago
.
The ghost sent him a mental snort.
Retaining my sanity? Too late, Sage of Shadowdale!
Much
too late
.
El sent
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