Cloak of Shadows - Ed Greenwood [92]
Other Malaugrym had come upon the struggle. One even descended the stairs past them all by the simple expedient of shifting its body up onto the rail for the few paces it needed to stay clear of the fray. Few of the observers seemed interested or tarried to watch, save one.
He took up a relaxed position against the stair rail lower down and watched calmly as the blazing Malaugrym began to shrink away from the two Harpers, concentrating all of its energies on slashing Sharantyr with barbs it had grown on the ends of its tentacles. As she chopped and slashed those rubbery appendages down to a few, the Malaugrym dwindled and suddenly rolled away from her, down a few steps, to lie asprawl, gape mouthed and very human.
"Impressive," said the new arrival, levering himself up from his elbow to stand facing them. He looked like a youngish, handsome man with wavy brown hair that threatened to fall right over one eye. The only sign that he was a shapeshifter was an extra arm, half-hidden in the folds of his loose, open-necked shirt. A third hand could be seen at his belt, fingers endlessly stroking the pommels of the ranked throwing knives there. Silver-bladed throwing knives.
This Shadowmaster spread his other hands in an "I mean no harm" gesture and came up a step.
"Keep your distance," Sharantyr told him, breathing heavily, her eyes afire. The sword in her hand pulsed once, warningly.
"Of course," the Shadowmaster said. "But please believe me, all of you. I mean you no harm. I see that you're mortals and may be unaware of our ways here in the Castle of Shadows. Be advised: This kin you slew- Phenanjar by name, if you're interested-was long a foe of mine. You have done me great good by his removal, and I regard you as friends." He advanced another step. "I would be pleased if you looked upon me as a friend, too."
Shar moved her blade menacingly, and the Malaugrym sighed. "Lady, please! Have I threatened you? Do you look upon every man you meet on a stair, here or in fair Waterdeep or in any inn of the Dalelands, as a foe to be cut down rather than spoken to? This place"-he waved at the mists around-"is, after all, my home. May I not walk its halls freely? I was, in fact, returning to my own chambers, and I'd be happy if you'd accompany me there as honored guests."
"Guests?" Itharr asked quietly, his voice neutral. The young man smiled pleasantly. "Guests. Here in the castle, that means you are free to come and go as you please, but are under my protection and not to be mistreated by"-his gaze fell to the still-burning Phenanjar at his feet-"those of us with, ah, careless tempers." "Are you adept in magic?" Belkram asked. The Malaugrym smiled. "Hardly. That has been my undoing, thus far. Yes, I work at magic and can hold my own in most company, but not here in the castle. You three need not fear my spells. They are not suited for smiting enemies low or hurling stones about in battle. Come. Be my guests. Learn what one of the blood of Malaug is truly like."
He met Sharantyr's hard gaze and shrugged. "You are suspicious of me, of course. Well, then, accompany me for as long as you like, and we'll part when you choose. Of course, thereafter I cannot speak for your presence and purposes in the castle, and some of my kin will seek to slay you on sight."
"We shall accompany you, sir," Sharantyr said with a smile that touched her lips but not her eyes. "Walk ahead of me, if you will, but my blade will stay in my hand."
"I would not have it put anywhere else, good lady!" he joked, and stepped smoothly past her, inviting the wary Harpers to fall in beside him with a gesture. "I am Amdramnar, son of Chasra, by the way. And you are-?"
"Hungry," Itharr said with a beatific smile. "And he's"-he indicated Belkram, striding along on the Shadowmaster's other flank-"very hungry."
The Malaugrym chuckled. "I… see." He looked over his shoulder at Sharantyr, who was walking warily just behind him. "Are they always like this, good lady?"
"No," she replied calmly, a twinkle deep in her watchful eyes, "they're