Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [87]
"I really must give the Shadowmasters something to think about besides laying waste to Faerun," the Old Mage mused. And then he smiled suddenly and snapped his fingers.
Obediently, in a place of ever-shifting shadows distant indeed from the room where Elminster sat, above the unbroken black marble floor of a vast chamber that was never empty, a severed head that looked very much like Elminster's own faded back into view from its stay in otherwhere, winked at a startled Malaugrym striding importantly across the Great Hall, and was gone.
A breath later, in a passage where candles flickered and wavered but never went out, fed by always-circling shadows, Old Elminster's head suddenly appeared. Floating between two pillars, it politely said, "Boo!" to a pair of startled Malaugrym conspirators, spat lightnings that left one shapeshifter rolling about in agony and the other a smoking heap, and was gone again.
In a chamber where several Malaugrym chanted and slithered, shifting shape in a ritual forbidden by Shadow-masters High for some centuries, a disembodied human head suddenly appeared, floating above the center of the sacred ring of flames, smiling down benevolently at the startled kin of Malaug.
"A sign!" one of them said excitedly, pointing with a flipper. "A sign!"
"What should we read in it?" another asked, almost suspiciously, as they all gaped at the smiling head.
It winked. " 'Abandon hope,' perhaps?" it suggested, as the blood dripping from its underside became a stream of silver lances that spun and erupted around the chamber, ricocheting energetically among Malaugrym blood and screams. By the time a Shadowmaster had lifted shaking hands to ward death away, the head was gone again.
" 'Twas Elminster," he mumbled grimly to the gape-mouthed corpse beside him. "He's back."
Wisely, the corpse chose not to answer.
15
Tumult and Affright
The Castle of Shadows, Kythorn 19
Blue-black and sinuous the shadows coiled, rising thigh high around the three rangers as they moved warily down the hall. Soon the parting mists showed them an end wall, and in its center a door flanked by two spitting serpents of stone.
Sharantyr eyed these gape-fanged sentinels warily as she approached, and thrust her sword carefully between them, probing back and forth, but there was no response. They seemed to be no more than lifeless stone ornaments.
Which made a nice change.
"Where shall we head for?" Sharantyr asked her companions softly, turning before the closed door. "Upward, or down? Head for large and grand rooms, or small and dark?" Two shrugs answered her, so she added, "Is there something we should be looking for?"
"Food," Itharr said brightly. Shar gave him a look, but Belkram held up a hand to halt them while he bent for a moment and listened to the stone he bore. Then he looked up. "We will need water to drink, first, and food eventually," he said, "but I've been told we're not to put anything in our mouths that she hasn't touched-been immersed in, whatever-first. Try to avoid even touching Malaugrym; they know all about what's poisonous to us."
"So no biting," Itharr commented, and added slyly, "Not like our last visit to Waterdeep."
Even before Sharantyr could give him a disgustedly despairing look, he'd adopted graver tones, adding, "Which brings to mind why we've come. Do we attack everyone-everything-we meet? Do we avoid battle if we can, and try to scout about? Do we try to befriend someone, to learn all we can or to earn a place here?"
"Perhaps next time," Belkram added in a small voice, addressing the unseen ceiling, "we could answer a few of these good questions before we leap into the heart of danger."
Into the rueful little silence that followed, Itharr said, "I like that. 'Leap into the heart of danger.' Quite impressive. There's a ballad in that…"
"Don't" both of his companions advised, in chorus. He spread teasingly apologetic hands in silence and then gestured at Shar, wordlessly bidding her speak.
Sharantyr eyed both men, seeing several horns growing out of one side of Belkram's