Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [106]
Kharza-kzad was there to greet her, but he did not seem his normal fussy self. The wizard stood tense and still. His sparse hair, which usually stood in wild disarray, had been neatly combed, and even the wrinkles in his face seemed less pronounced. He seemed strangely determined, oddly composed.
"Do you have any idea what you have done?" he said in a tight, mournful voice.
Liriel froze, momentarily stunned by the realization that Kharza had somehow found her out. But of course she could get around the wizard; she had charmed him into her way of thinking many times before. "Of course I know what I've done! It's quite marvelous, actually. I've found a way-"
"You've signed your death warrant, that's what you've done!" he interrupted. "Are you so naive you think the rulers of Menzoberranzan would allow you to wield such power? What drow would not kill to possess this ability for herself?"
The girl bunked in puzzlement. Few of Menzoberranzan's drow ventured into the Underdark, other than the patrols ordered to keep the surrounding tunnels clear of enemies. Few dark elves shared her curious nature, her love of adventure and exploration for its own sake. And certainly no one wanted to travel the Lands of Light on a quest for knowledge, in search of a rune of power. For that matter, what drow of Menzoberranzan knew of rune magic? It was by purest happenstance that she herself had pieced together the story of the Windwalker. No one could know what the amulet meant to her, or what it could do.
Understanding came to her quickly. Of course they could not know! The drow no doubt believed the amulet was like most magical items in the city, that the mere possession of it by a wizard or priestess of sufficient power would be enough to unleash its apells! No wonder Kharza said many would kill for it!
"But the amulet would do them little good! Its magic is not like anything we know," she said earnestly. "Let me explain-"
"Don't," Kharza said bluntly, abruptly raising both hands in a silencing gesture. "The less I know about this amulet, the better my own chances of survival." land's eyes dropped to the battle wand hi her tutor's right hand, then lifted slowly to his resolute face. The truth struck her: Kharza meant to kill her.
The wizard took a step closer, his empty hand stretched out toward her and his wand held back and low, like a ready sword. "The amulet must go to the Sorcere for study. Give it to me now."
Her hand closed around the tiny golden sheath that hung over her heart. She tried to speak and found she could not, so dry was her throat and so tight the pain in her chest. Liriel had suffered many betrayals in her young life, but none had come upon her more unexpectedly than this. She knew that Kharza, in his own way, cared about her, perhaps more than anyone ever had before. She had come to rely on this, and something approaching trust had developed between them. But among drow, trust invariably brought betrayal. Liriel recognized the depth of her folly and accepted her punishment.
With the courage and defiance expected of a dark-elven noble, the girl lifted her chin to meet death. Her fingers tightened around the amulet, and with her free hand she formed her final words in the silent language of the drow.
Strike now. The amulet will survive. You can pick it out of the ash.
Kharza-kzad lifted the wand and pointed it at her. They stood facing each other in tense, aching silence for many long moments.
Then, unexpectedly, the wizard swore a ripe oath and flung the magical weapon aside. "I cannot," he mourned.
Liriel watched in