Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [102]
"What about you?" Itharr asked, eyeing the platter of shadowslug. "Are we a danger to you, now that others know we're here?"
Amdramnar shrugged. "Not really. I am thought odd by many of the kin, but so are many others, and tolerance must needs be the order of things in many family dealings. You saw how they watched but made no move? They were telling me of their neutrality in this, by that very action. It is how things are done in the castle."
* * * * *
Somewhere in Faerun, then the Castle of Shadows, Kythorn 19
No one was around to see, so Elminster stepped behind a tree, became a bedraggled-looking crow, and leapt lightly to a leaf-shrouded branch. There he nestled up against the trunk and grew still.
And far away, in a corridor where shadows drifted idly in the ever-present gloom, a pale, grisly object that trailed white hair and a long white beard behind it like a tail faded slowly into solidity, flew purposefully forward through the shadows to a certain spot, and then rose up into the concealing gloom and waited.
A breath or so later, figures came into view down the passage. One was a man whose fingers were a nest of small eels wrapped securely about a scepter whose pale red glow parted the shadows like a slicing sword. The other was a loping, shambling thing of many snouts and protruding ears and eyestalks, a creature that whuffled and tapped the stones of the passage floor and walls with long, spidery fingers as it came.
"So have any of these idiots survived?" it asked sourly.
"I don't believe so," was the curt reply. "Well, perhaps one from the first foray, but no one's talking about it. Milhvar goes about grinning and saying arch things, almost as if he intended them to fail!"
"Why wouldn't he? If he kills off all the most rebellious or hopeless younglings, he won't be the only one who'll be going about grinning, either! Believe you me, there's parents in this castle who'd be relieved to see their own young gone…"
The two figures waved very different hands in front of a certain section of wall and it split in twain, drawing back to reveal an opening. The moment they'd passed through it, the humanlike Malaugrym turned around to survey the passage behind suspiciously but did not see the head floating above him, in the heart of a concealing drift of shadow.
The door whispered closed, and for some moments the head stared down thoughtfully at where the Shadow-master had been. Then it faded away.
* * * * *
The moment the Shadowmaster stepped back through the door that led to his larder, Belkram stretched and brought his hand down over the stone in his pocket. Sylune, he thought at it, concentrating hard.
Gently! The silent voice in his mind sounded reproachful.
Sorry, he told the Witch of Shadowdale, but we've some urgency. Can we trust the food and drink here? Thanks for reassuring me about the shadowslug, but he's bringing a lot more. How will we know?
I've told Shar to plead a delicate stomach, and Itharr to eat slowly, she replied, so you're it, Harper bold. I'll vibrate or even sting you, like this, if something's dangerous. Belkram nearly jumped out of his seat at the jolt he felt then, and favored her with a silent growl, which earned him a giggle in return. And don't talk when he's out of the room. This lad leaves more spying spells lying around than a castle full of Zhentarim! Her mind voice changed. Whoops-'ware!
Belkram just had time to bring his hand down and look casual before Amdramnar reappeared, several steaming platters balanced in his arms. "Feast is served, friends," he said, extending several arms out as if they were expandable poles to set platters down on side tables all over the room. Sharantyr grinned despite herself at the sight.
Itharr looked at the platter beside him and drew back. "Thanks, Amdramnar," he said steadily, "but… what is this? It looks… alive."
The platter held a bed of rice, and on it some sort of chopped and seared green vegetable rather like peppers. Among those deep green shells were brown,