Crown of Fire - Ed Greenwood [83]
Force boiled through her, and the silver-haired bard found herself gasping, on her back on the ground, fingers itching and wriggling as a yellow haze swirled and eddied in her head. "And just what, El, was that?" she gasped as her vision cleared.
A spell that allows ye to shoot forth a ray that'll wipe one of a wizard's spells right out of his mind."
Elminster gave her a grin that was not pleasant to look at, then added, "Too powerful for ye to carry normally-but I need ye to hit Manshoon with it, very soon now."
"Manshoon?"The bard was getting a little tired of gashing in surprise, but Elminster had managed to take her breath away again.
"Aye. Now put that pan down, get away from the fire, and belt up! Ye've been after me to aid Shandrilwell, now it's time. The Zhentarim have been far too busy for their own good, and they've rushed things a little. Stand ye back, roll the drums, and bring on Manshoon!"
Elminster's severe expression melted into a reassuring smile just for an instant-and then his hands were moving, and he stared into the fire and mouthed curses Storm could not quite hear. She found herself glad of that.
Ah, this was the place. Manshoon walked the last few steps to the narrow bridge of rock that led to the bare, windswept sununit He risked leaning out to glance down. Yes, there they were. The fat one, the young mage, and Shandril in a gully that turned toward him and passed under the overhanging cliff.
Perfect.
Manshoon took a step onto the stone bridge-and then paused as a robed figure suddenly appeared in his way. It was an old man with a mop of white hair and heard, a mockingly raised eyebrow, and features Manshoon knew only too well.
"Well met," Elminster of Shadowdale said wryly, not quite bowing. "Nice weather up here, isn't it, Manshoon?" Man,hoon snarled like one of his own hunting dogs and raised a hand threateningly.
Elminster looked innocently at it, then mildly met Manshoon's angry gaze. "Something troubling ye?
Lack ol spellfire, perhaps?"
Manshoon hissed the word that unleashed the most powerful killing spell he carried. There was a flash, and the stones around them rocked and shook.
Below, Mirt looked up and swore. "Manshoon – and Elminster! Run! Both of ye-move! There's no telling how much of that mountain'll come down if they start blasting each other in earnest. Come on!"
Snatching up Shandril bodily, the Old Wolf broke into a heavy run, Narm at his side. He paid no heed to Shandril's sharp words of protest, but lumbered along like a draft horse gathering speed for a gallop, wheezing lustily in her ears as he went. Furious, Shandril tried to claw at his face and win free of his grip, but Mirt ignored her nails until Narm could cast a hasty magic that slowed and hampered tier struggles. Shandril snarled at them both, and then-as the Old Wolf thundered on-gave up, shrugging and spreading her hands with a weary, apologetic smile.
Atop the cliff, Elminster's image only smiled as the spell that should have torn him asunder spiraled into him and roared away into vast distances. Through the dark hole rent in the Old Mage's middle, Manshoon could see the rocks of the summit beyond. could feel a whirling wind drawing him forward.
"Spelltrap," Elminster said mockingly. "Fooled again, Manshoon."
The roar of the vortex grew louder, and Manshoon found himself being sucked off his feet toward the phantom image of his enemy. As Elminster's crooked smile rushed up to meet him. Manshoon had just enough time to speak one word: the one that summoned aid so costly he used it only in dire need.
Now, for instance…
Elminster tossed something small into the fire, stepped back from its flames, and said, "Scratch any itches ye have right now, lass-things're apt to get a mite busy around here in a breath or two."
Storms hands went to the hilt of her sword.
Elminster nodded, and her long sword slid out. "We were within a breath of losing Shandril," the Old Mage told her, "and from the Zhentarim gaining spellfire. Instead, Manshoon should be paying us a visit any time now."
His hands moved