Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [40]
My thanks, Sister. Sylune's mindtouch lasted for only a moment before the Simbul stepped back, surveyed the Old Mage critically, and frowned as she raised a hand and gestured deftly.
White hair appeared on the scorched wizard's chin and upper lip, and raced across the skin, growing with almost comical speed, until the Queen of Aglarond judged its length and appearance right. Then she did the same for the old wizard's head. "There! Yourself again!" she said with a wink.
"The others need your spells rather more than I do," Elminster said dryly, waving a hand around the clearing. "And that Malaugrym"-he pointed-"may still live."
The Simbul nodded, mirth suddenly gone, and hastened to where Itharr lay sprawled amid ichor and many ribbons of slashed flesh. Belkram lay not far from him. The queen went to her knees amid the blood first. As the glow of her synostodweomer flared around the motionless Harper, she turned her head to watch Sharantyr rise stiffly among the trees, and said in amusement, "I notice you healed the pretty lady first."
Elminster's head shook in denial. "Nay. I never reached her. Her ring did the work."
"No matter. This one will be fine. He has a handsome face, I'll grant." She pinched Itharr's cheek, watched his eyes flutter open, and rose with a merry laugh to go to Belkram.
It took longer this time, and her laughter was gone when she came back to Elminster. "Much in the way of repairs was needed yonder," she said, "but he'll live-this time. He's been raised many times, that one." She tapped her lips thoughtfully. "Perhaps he's lost all fear of death."
"He's not the only one," Sylune said dryly, through the Old Mage's lips. The Simbul turned to stare at her and then gave her a sudden smile. "My apologies. I sometimes forget. You are very good at this, you know."
Elminster gave her a sardonic little bow. She dimpled and replied with a certain unqueenly gesture, and the Old Mage waved his resignation from the lists and sat down on a stone.
"The Malaugrym now have a new Great Foe, I daresay," he observed gruffly. "Ye'd best watch thy backside."
She smirked. "As attentively as you do?"
Elminster rolled his eyes and sighed. Her merry laughter was drowned out by a sudden thunder of hooves. He had half-risen in alarm before four lathered and familiar horses came into view around a blackened wall.
"Your mounts. Some people are so careless with their horses," the Simbul said with a flourish. El frowned at her.
"It's not as if we weren't rather busy…"
She waved his unspoken thanks away, looked around at the dazed lady Knight and the two Harpers coming slowly across the trampled turf toward the Old Mage, and said, "That was fun. Yet the Realms around await me, and there's much to be done, what with avatars and lesser idiots running around stirring up trouble. I must go." She turned eastward, took a step, and then turned back and pointed up at the fast-fading purple glow. "You need not fear attack from above for a time. Magic's all too apt to go wild up there, now."
Then she was gone, without sound or drifting spell-smoke to show she'd been there. Elminster stared absently at where she'd been for a moment, scratched one of his bony arms, and thought on what paltry magic he had left. The wisest thing to do would be to return to Shadowdale, to stock up, if that wouldn't be going into a worse trap than Irythkeep had turned out to be.
"What a battle," Shar said in a voice that was not entirely steady.
Elminster gave her a wry smile. "Ye missed the best part, lass," he said gruffly. "It was raining mushrooms."
"Mushrooms?" The chorus was bewildered, as Belkram and Itharr joined them, still peering critically at their weapons and looking around in apparent disbelief.
"Malaugrym who'd unwillingly taken the shapes of mushrooms,"