All Shadows Fled - Ed Greenwood [124]
"You?" Hulurran asked, slack-jawed in disbelief.
Gathran, however, said quietly, "Command me, daughter of Ahorga."
Huerbara nodded to him before turning to the elder shapeshifter. "Are you with me also, Hulurran of the Winds?" The query was soft with menace.
After a long silence, Hulurran nodded. "Aye. Aye, you have fire enough to be Shadowmaster High. I am yours." He turned to meet her gaze squarely, and added, "But we must move very carefully, lest our house be torn apart by strife between you and rivals for the throne."
"Teach me, then," Huerbara said to them both, gliding nearer, "how to move very carefully…"
"Lady, we will," they agreed in chorus, and three sets of eager tentacles met and entwined.
The folk in Shadowdale fortunate enough to survive the events of that morning had seen wonder upon wonder… but there were still gasps and mutterings and a shrinking back as a ghostly, silver-haired head came floating over the grass. Gawking dalefolk and weary Cormyreans alike melted out of its path, and stared at the three naked, bedraggled folk who followed it.
"It seems one of the Malaugrym was collecting wizards," Sylun6 told Elminster. "And as both you and Mystra seem to be back with us, we'd best be using these three to bring Sharantyr back."
The Old Mage stared searchingly at the short, fat man and the two women, and they all nodded their agreement. Jhessail and Illistyl pushed through the crowd, and Sir Tantor was jostled aside by Lord Luth-tor, firmly leading a line of war wizards.
"What did you say?" Itharr hissed to Sylune.
Belkram put an arm around his shoulder. Weeping, the rangers watched Khelben, Laeral, and even Storm join the circle of wizards. The mages joined hands around Sharantyr's broken body, then looked to the Old Mage.
Elminster said softly, "Do it."
For a breath or two, it seemed nothing was happening. In silence the wizards stood, unmoving, as warriors craned their necks to look. Next came gasps here and there as folk noticed the radiance silently forming in the air above the circle. Small motes of light twinkled, grew, and shone more brightly. Swiftly the light swelled until a great sphere of white radiance blazed above the wizards.
They heard Elminster and Khelben grunt in unison-and a shaft of light stabbed down from the sphere to strike the still form of Sharantyr.
The wizards trembled, and on the bodies of the three unclad mages the watchers could see sweat streaming. The wizards strained as the beam slowly rose from the ground, taking the lady ranger's body with it.
Through their tears the two Harpers held each other, wild hope leaping within them, and saw the body of their lady disappear into the light.
One of the war wizards cried out, and slumped over, but Luthtor firmly held one of his hands and Irendue clung like grim death to the other, and the circle was not broken. The mages wavered. More than one sagged to his knees, but held fast to the hands of the chain.
Then a great, collective gasp went up from them, the light faded, and out of its heart something sprang.
Something soft and shapely and whole-and alive!
Sharantyr fell from the sky as naked as the day she was born, and something seemed to boost her abruptly sideways-of all the assembly, only Mourngrym saw El-minster's momentary grin-in her fall, so that she landed, heavily, atop Belkram.
He went to the ground with a startled "Whumpf!" A moment later, Itharr, Belkram, and Sharantyr were rolling over and over in a happy embrace, weeping and kissing and laughing for joy.
Khelben looked down at them and frowned. "Must they?" he complained to his lady. "And her without a stitch on, too!"
Laeral grinned happily up at the lord mage of Water-deep through the sweat glistening on her face-and bowled him over with her own sudden embrace.
"Whumpf!" Khelben said as he hit the ground. "Get off!" he shouted when he had breath enough to speak again. Grinning faces of armsmen and dalefolk surrounded him. "I said get off!”
Shadowdale, Midsummer Night
The fire spat sparks in the kitchen