Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [73]
Folding his arms, Milhvar of the Malaugrym stepped forward and cast the "secret spell" thrice, linking each cloak to its wearer through the shed blood.
"You are ready," he said calmly. "Stand together, so my next spell can take you all as one."
"Take us where, exactly?" Taernil snapped, trying to assert mastery of the situation.
"To a gate that links Blackstaff Tower with Evermeet, most likely," Milhvar replied gravely, "though there is some small chance that you'll be drawn to one of the other gates-we know of at least three-that open into Blackstaff Tower from other places in Faerun and elsewhere. Try not to get lost."
"Don't patronize us, old one!" Jarthree snapped.
"Oh, you'd be in far worse straits, were I ever to do that," Milhvar said softly, and was rewarded by seeing Balatar blanch and Jarthree looking just a little unsure of what insult she should hurl back at him.
While she was still sorting through those she had ready, he brought his hands together with a smile, whispered the word that launched the gate-link spell, and said benevolently. "Go now. Bring glory to the Malaugrym."
* * * * *
Daggerdale, Kythorn 19
"I hope the horses'll fare all right," Itharr said anxiously, watching them trot purposefully away into the woods.
"They'll be fine," Sylune assured him. "One of my woodland friends is watching over them."
"Don't worry about them," Belkram said, shouldering the two largest saddlebags, the ones holding the food. "Spare some worry for us. We're the ones undertaking a madwoman's mission into the very fortress of our foes. It'd be crazy if these villains dwelt in Faerun, and didn't have mighty magic and the power to change shapes at will. As it is, it's sheer carve-our-tombstones insanity time!"
Sharantyr sighed. "Was he always this cheerful?" she asked Itharr. "Before he fell on his head, I mean."
Itharr blinked. "The first time, or the second?"
"Bah!" Belkram said. "Dost thou respect my trenchant view of the whelming you've undertaken? Nay! Well, then. Ready? Away!"
"That's more what he was famous for, back at Twilight Hall," Itharr said. "The bold rush into oblivion, I think they called it, in tactics lectures."
Sharantyr looked at him, wrinkling her brow. "You had lectures at Twilight Hall?"
"Just to separate the feasts," Belkram called back to her. "And the org-"
"Ahem!" Itharr called loudly. "Hey, there! Brave companion-hoy! Come back here! The lady with the blade is here, remember?"
" 'Twould be best, I think," Sylune said quietly from the handsome ranger's breast pocket, "if you calmed down, Belk, and did just that."
Belkram looked down. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For the advice?"
"No, for calling me 'Belk' instead of 'Harper boy' or the like. It's… good to hear."
"My apologies, Belkram," the stone said. "Chide me as I chide thee, if I seem too high and mighty. It was the way of things in speech, when I was young. Elders spoke down, and others looked up." Her voice became dry. "It seems the world has changed."
"As always, lady," he muttered as they rejoined Itharr and Sharantyr. The three stood looking at each other, bent under the weight of their saddlebags, and then down at the softly singing blade in the lady ranger's hand.
"Ready?" she asked softly.
"A moment, if you please," Sylune's voice came to them. "It would be best if you kept me a secret until I am most needed. So speak not to me, or of me, whenever possible." "Aye, good thought. Agreed. Yes," the living three said, voices mingling, and then Sharantyr asked again, "Ready?"
"Away!" they shouted together, and the blue blade flashed. The tingling that had been rising around them took them all, and they were… gone.
The lopsided bridge looked as lonely and forgotten as ever, for a time. And then dark shapes came loping down through the trees in some haste, golden slanted eyes looking balefully this way and that, and padded across the bridge, sniffing suspiciously.
Abruptly one barked and headed along an unseen trail, shoulders hunched and moving fast.