All Shadows Fled - Ed Greenwood [64]
"I stand in Shadowdale," Sylune told him. "We have resisted the work of Bane here thus far, at great cost."
"Aye, great cost, indeed. Mystra returned to us, and was lost again forever. She and Elminster fought Bane for possession of a Celestial Stair"
Sylun6 closed her eyes in despair, but forced herself to say on. "I need your guidance, High One. We face another peril: shapeshifters who call themselves Malau-grym, who came into Faerun when the Sword of Mystra brought three heroes back to us, three who went to the shadow realm of the shapeshifters to do Our Lady's work. They are loose in the land, working mischief."
The great voice seemed to hold a tone of bitter amusement. "These days, it seems half the multiverse is loose in Faerun, working mischief… one Azuth among them. My powers are twisted and lessened. 'Tis all I can do to hold the Realms together, with all the irresponsible spell-hurlers active. Red Wizards, Calishite lords, Zhentarim, and near a thousand ambitious lone wizards whose magic is mighty. Gods and mortals alike are trying to take advantage of the widespread chaos. And without Mystra, magic is truly unreliable. I work constantly to keep the fabric of all from being torn utterly by these ignorant wielders of Art so that Toril will not be dashed apart in utter destruction. You have my sympathy, Sister, and my regrets… but you must contend with the House of Malaug on your own; I dare not intervene. Gather your allies, and work as you have never worked before. 'Tis time to truly be heroes."
Sylune stood motionless. "May you succeed in your task," she said softly.
"And may you find the good fortune Our Lady Mystra could not," the god replied, "and prevail. Know that I love you, Sylune, and would aid if I could. Look not to seek divine aid again until this Time of Troubles is past." And the small storm of twinkling lights melted silently away, leaving the night sky above the stones empty.
The ghostly figure of the Witch of Shadowdale stared up at the empty air where Azuth had manifested, then turned toward her sister Storm and reached out.
"Take me away from here," she pleaded, her voice on the edge of tears. "Take me back to your kitchen, and the fire, and your arms."
"Of course," Storm said quietly. She bent to take up the stone Belkram had surrendered, and Sylune saw that her face was wet with tears.
They walked south and then east together, taking a long route around the heart of the moonlit dale to avoid challenges and the worst of the dead.
"You heard all?" Sylune asked grimly.
Storm sighed. "Aye, this dale is going to be very different if Elminster is no more."
"He was a father-and a friend-to you more than any of us," Sylune said softly. " 'Tis I should be comforting you."
Storm shook her head wearily, as if to clear it. "I did not feel him die. I can't be sure… he may still live."
"And if he does not?"
"Then it is as Azuth told us: time for us-all of us Seven-to truly be heroes, without his comforting aid and guidance… and vigilance for our safety."
Sylune sighed. "I never thought I'd be alive without him to turn to. He seems as permanent a feature of the Realms as Mount Waterdeep, or Anauroch, or the Shaar." They climbed a stile and descended into a field of parsnips. Halfway down one of its long rows, she added, "Sharantyr is beside herself! I thought she'd tear the two prisoners apart with her bare hands."
"She gave her blade to Mourngrym because she feared she'd want to use it," Storm said softly. "My own fury is past. El told me how tired of life he'd become more than once this last season."
"Should we let those two go?"
"Mercy has ever been our watchword here, and yet…"
Storm's voice trailed away, and with slow deliberation she sheathed the blade she held. "I may come to feel the rage Sharantyr holds again, tomorrow. Since Doust became lord, we have always shown the people that justice by fair trial holds sway in Shadowdale. So we will have a trial and justice, and Mourngrym will have the hard task of sentencing."
She was silent for a long time before