Crown of Fire - Ed Greenwood [16]
A little chill went through him as he stopped and looked into the night-and thought about how he might have to kill her, for the safety of all in the Realms. His superiors had been grimly insistent that he never lose sight of that.
It was not the first time he'd had this dark thought. Delg stroked his axe again. It was the first time his mind had envisioned his axe leaping down to cleave Shandril's head, her long hair swirling amid blazing spellfire… the dwarf shook his head angrily and stumped back toward the fire with unnecessary violence. Enough of such fell dreams! They're for folk too idle to pay full heed to what's around them right now…
Shandril lifted bright eyes to him as he came up, and she managed a wavering smile. Delg nodded at her, and asked roughly, "More stew?"
Narm smiled, shaking his head slightly; Shandril did the same. The dwarf shrugged and sat down beside the fire, shifting the burning branches and adding a few more.
And then there was light where no light should be, touching his face on the side away from the fire.
Delg spun, hand going to his axe. Narm and Shandril scrambled to their feet behind him In the air above the fallen shadowtop, a patch of light had appeared. It hung at about the height of a tall man's head, an area of spinning, silvery radiance that pulsed and sputtered. As they watched, it brightened and seemed somehow to look at them.
"Be not alarmed," came a faintly echoing voice from it. A man's voice, sounding somehow dignified and elderly, speaking from a long distance away.
A wizard, no doubt. Whatever the voice said, DeIg was alarmed. Damn all magic, anyway! Honest folk couldn't"Hold, Shandril of Highmoon!" The voice had grown louder, and stern. "In the name of Azoun, I bid you make answer to me! I am Vangerdahast, Royal Wizard of Cormyr, and by this magic can only speak to you, not cast magic on you or do any harm to you and yours. Shandril, do you hear me?"
Three pairs of startled eyes met. Delg shrugged. Impulsively, Shandril leaned forward and said, "I am here, Lord Wizard." Her voice quavered; for some reason, she felt guilty and weak and in need of approval from this far-off wizard she'd never met. In Highmoon, she'd heard often of the mighty Vangerdahast-and by all accounts, he sounded less good-natured and forgiving than the far mightier Elminster she knew. The patch of radiance pulsed and grew brighter.
"That is good, Lady Shandril. I repeat: I mean you no ill, and this sending of mine can do you no harm." The light drifted nearer, and Narm's face darkened in suspicion. He raised his hands, ready to cast a spell, and stepped between Shandril and the wizard's glow, waving to Delg to keep watch on the woods around them. The dwarf gave him an approving, mirthless grin and did so.
"What would you, then?" Shandril's voice was steady now, her tears forgotten. It seemed they were under attack once more. Her fingertips tingled as excitement rose within her, and her spellfire awoke.
"I would know what you intend to do within the borders of Cormyr, and where you are bound. More: I must know what befell at Thundarlun, and your part in it." The light dwindled slightly, danced, and then strengthened again. "What say you?"
Shandril trembled in sudden suspicion. Just who was listening? Was this really the great Vangerdahast?
And who might be listening from the dark woods all round them? She caught Delg's eyes; the dwarf had turned to look at her levelly, his face expressionless. Shandril took a deep breath and made her decision.
"I intend no harm to the folk and land of Cormyr, nor my challenge to the authority or property of the king," she said flatly. "I am fleeing enemies who would destroy me-among them, the warriors of Zhentil Keep, who followed me into your land through the Gap and caught up with me at Thundarlun. I can trust no one enough to tell where we are headed, but I assure you that I do not intend to settle or tarry in Cormyr. Let us pass in peace, I ask you."
"What happened