Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [41]
Belkram frowned. "Did we… die?"
"Nay, nearly, but the Queen of Aglarond thought ye had a pretty face… or no, 'twas him she considered handsome"-Itharr managed to raise an eyebrow and sketch a courtly bow at the same time-"and healed ye. Sorry to disappoint thy sense of glorious tragedy."
"So what do we do now?" Sharantyr asked softly, looking around at the smoking ruins and at their still-restless horses. "You can't have much magic left."
"I was wondering if it would be best to return to the dale, or go looking for a Harper cache. There's one not too far from here."
"What?" Belkram asked innocently. "When we're having so much fun?"
His companions answered this observation with various rude sounds.
"We can't count on any more unexpected rescues, from the Simbul or anyone else," Elminster warned. "Certain Harpers have been told to watch out for us and aid us if need be, but most of 'em hereabouts are fast swords and little more."
"We need a little more," Sharantyr agreed softly, and shivered suddenly. "I did not think any of us would live to see these stars again," she added as they looked at her.
"You need not!" a voice spat, and from around the nearest tumbled wall came a woman in dark robes, running hard, her face contorted in hatred. A fey purple glow, tinged with black, blazed out of her furious eyes, and she held high a black dagger.
"For the glory of Bane-die, Cursed One!"
She flung the dagger as she came, and Shar couldn't draw her sword in time to strike it aside. It wobbled-a bad throw-but struck Elminster's cheek hilt first before spinning away into the night.
* * * * *
Behind another nearby wall, a tall black stone that stood by itself bent forward a little to peer at the fray with eyes that grew very bright. Then the stone hissed a soft word, and smiled a crooked smile.
* * * * *
As the dagger left it, Elminster's cheek fell slack, looking suddenly lifeless. The glow around the pipe in his breast pocket faded, and the three rangers in their burnt leathers, blades drawn to face the running woman, looked back in sudden alarm.
"A disjunction!" Belkram snarled, who had seen such things before.
"Gods spit on all!" Itharr added angrily, and strode forward to meet their attacker. Elminster backed away from them, looking horrified.
Behind the wall, the stone smiled wolfishly and grew an arm that gestured almost lazily behind him. "Perast aum izeebuldree," he said conversationally, and Brammur, Randal Morn, Thaern, and all the men with them froze together, blades raised, in poses of cautious stealth.
"Thank you," the stone told them courteously as it melted into the shape of a man whose left arm ended in a sword blade instead of a hand. He peered at the motionless men for a moment to be sure he'd got them all, nodded in satisfaction, and dug his right hand into a pouch at his belt.
From the other side of the wall came the ring of steel and a scream of rage. "Some sort of magic shields this place!" a man's voice shouted.
"Aye," the man who had been a stone agreed pleasantly. "So it does." Bringing forth a handful of pebbles, he cast them in a wide fan onto the ground and muttered something else.
With terrifying speed, the stones began to grow. The dark forms rising from them had burly arms, tusked mouths, and were… hobgoblins!
"Come," he said simply, and jogged around the corner of the wall. Howling, the hobgoblins poured after him, jerking out brutal weapons and jostling each other to be first at the kill.
* * * * *
Spheres of vividly glowing air-of all colors, from a rather glorious ruby red to a putrid green-were drifting around them now, expanding from Elminster's person and various minor enchantments worn or carried by his three companions. The disjunction was working all too well.
The woman who'd hurled the dagger struck a pose just beyond the Harpers' blades and laughed in triumph. "When Elminster lies slain," she cried, eyes shining, "remember that it was I, Arashta Tharbrow, who struck his magic from