Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [155]
He scrambled up, still fleeing from the pillar, to see the masked mage gesturing him to halt. He did, staring around wildly. A pulsing, spitting sphere of purple radiance hung in the air not far from them. Dauneth stared at it. There was a round, dark shadow at the center of the sphere.
"The flying helm?" he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.
The mage nodded. "Now it will serve as our guide. We stay behind it for the next few rooms, and the guardians waiting there will leave us be, so long as you don't touch any of them."
They went on through chambers and down another flight of stairs into a long, narrow hall whose walls were broken by many niches, each home to a silent, unmoving suit of dark plate armor. The purple sphere floated ahead of them, and twice along the passage unseen magical barriers suddenly flared into violet radiance, flashed white, and then parted.
The masked mage ignored such displays, striding steadily ahead until she reached a closed stone door. Dauneth peered at it curiously, save for a pull-ring and a keyhole, it bore no mark. Was this what they'd come for?
The masked mage selected one of the keys, murmured something over it, put it to her lips, and then slid it into the lock.
Dauneth didn't know what he'd expected to see beyond the door-Vangerdahast and a dozen senior war wizards bound and gagged, perhaps-but he'd thought the royal treasure vault would have gates and an inscription and guards.
The masked mage in blue strode in without hesitation, glanced around quickly, and then stepped aside, the pulsing purple sphere moving with her. Dauneth followed, his sword raised and ready. Dust rose around their boots and hung heavy everywhere else, though someone-no, several someones-had come in and crossed the room recently. Armed men stood ready for them-no, just old and ornate suits of chased and gem-studded armor. Dauneth eyed them warily, then looked around.
Along the walls sat massive chests, except to the left, where there was a row of dragon skulls. Small purple gems gleamed along the brow of each of the great bone heads.
A stuffed, well-worn minotaur stood guard over a low table where a line of crowns sat, all of them grander than the simple circlet King Azoun favored. Dauneth blinked at the size of the gems in some of them-there was one ruby as large as his own fist-and then glanced quickly around the room again, still expecting some sort of attack. Another wall displayed a row of swords, halberds, and maces. Among them was a small glass case that held the scorched head of a sledgehammer.
The footprints in the dust led to an armoire of tarnished electrum that pulsed with a faint blue glow of guardian magic. Its double doors stood open, revealing a fire-ravaged interior where ruined things had melted and dripped down to puddle on the floor long ago.
The masked mage was peering carefully at a yellowed map. As Dauneth turned to look at it, she rolled it up, thrust it back into her bodice, and announced, "Rightnow we start back. My trap sphere won't last forever, and the helm will go free once the sphere evaporates."
Dauneth frowned. "We're leaving? Didn't we come here to find something… something to save the life of the king?"
The masked head nodded. "We did and we have," she said, turning to go. "We came to find if something was missing from this room, and it is. Now we know much more than we did before."
Dauneth's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "We do? I don't."
The masked head turned back to him. "Come," she said simply and went out the door, the purple sphere moving before her. He shrugged and followed.
The woman in blue reached past him to point and whisper. Her spell made dust swirl up from the floor of the room for a brief instant before it settled again, hiding the marks of their boots.
"The golden bull that struck the king down," she said crisply as they swung the door closed again, "was an automaton called an abraxus, a constructed creature animated by magic. One such