A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [45]
Embra Silvertree must come first, and surrender to him utterly.
Yes…
Blue rathance swirled, flashed, and was gone, washing away behind their eyes-and suddenly six figures were standing a little dazedly on the Silvertree docks.
"Embra," Craer complained, his voice as sharp as any tutor's, "flow-foam is over there. Why did you bring us here?"
Embra held her forehead, and said softly, "Ingryl Ambelter. He touched my mind just now. He wanted me. Oh, how he wanted me."
She swayed, there on the silver-weathered wood amid the bobbing moored barges, and Hawkril's long arms snapped out to cradle her, hold her close, and soothe her. She settled into them with a sigh, and said to Craer, "Some sort of barrier-magic of more force than I've ever felt before-blocks magic into and out of Flowfoam. This is where it threw us, when my jump spell struck it."
"What she's saying, Clevertongue," Sarasper observed wearily, "is be thankful you aren't dead."
"So what does a spell-barrier mean to our ah, grand scheme?" the Baron Brightpennant asked, squinting at Embra. "Is your father in there, with his Dwaer, or somewhere else? And what do we do now?"
Embra spread helpless hands, feeling Hawkril's ire growing around her. She patted his hand soothingly, and asked brightly, "Raulin, what do bards generally do, when everything goes utterly wrong?"
Raulin Castlecloaks looked back from gazing wonderingly at Flowfoam Isle to give her a sudden grin. "Why, Lady, we generally stroll along, whistling nonchalantly, and pretending that everything is unfolding just as we planned it. Whereby we fool surprising numbers of folk."
"Just so long as it's the right ones, lad," Glarsimber of Sart grunted at him. 'Just so long as it's the right ones."
Chapter Eight
Magic Hath Two Sharp Edges
The Lady of Jewels closed her eyes, and her companions saw the color drain out of her face in an instant. She started to tremble in Hawkril's arms, sagging like an empty cloak.
" DIV the Brightpennant you??"The Spellmaster," she replied with a wince, looking down at her empty hands a little wonderingly, as if she'd never seen them before.
"I'm right sick of him, too," Craer said meaningfully, "but how does that wizard 'ail you,' just now?"
"He set a trap for me," Embra replied, lifting her head to gaze out across the sparkling Silverflow to the battlements of Flowfoam Isle.
Raulin peered at her a little warily; she wore a strange expression that was part anger, part sadness, part weary wisdom-and part hunger.
"A weird to bind me to him," she added, after staring across the river in silence for a breath or two more. "Part of the Living Castle spells he spun to enslave me." She shook her head. "So much power, surging…"
There was a thudding of fast-fleeing boots and a clatter of boat boards. The Four and their two companions whirled around on the docks-in time to see a few frightened boys in ill-fitting leather harness running for the nearest trees. One bore a fluttering crown-and-river banner of Aglirta in his hand. Evidently talk of magic was enough to frighten away the few boys Blackgult had been able to spare to garrison the Silvertree docks and its small muster of boats and barges.
Craer, Glarsimber, and Sarasper exchanged swift glances, but then shrugged and watched the youths go. Raulin frowned and shook his head as he saw them plunge into the trees. Craven weakreeds…
Then he remembered what had seemed so all-important a few moments before, and whirled around to look again at the Lady Silvertree.
Her gaze was on Flowfoam no longer; now she was regarding Baron Brightpennant. "Your magic saved me, Glarsimber," she said slowly. "My thanks."
"My magic? I have no sorcery, nor… oh: the copper hand?"
Embra nodded. "Some of its other enchantments. I think." She curled her lip in a mirthless smile. "Whatever the reason, Ambelter got almost as nasty a surprise as I did." Then she looked again across the river to Flow-foam, and her mouth tightened