Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [45]
"Brow priestesses draw their power and their allies from the lower planes. As you know, a wizard has other sources of power," Kharza-kzad replied, absently fingering the sleeve of his robe. "We seldom call upon the power and services of abysmal creatures, and they are not really all that entertaining to observe."
Liriel grinned and sank down onto a heap of cushions. "Even so, you can help me learn the spell. Sit down, Kharza, and stop fidgeting. You're making me edgy."
The wizard shook his head so emphatically that the thin white strands of his hair leaped into disarray. "I can't stay long. I only wanted to bring you this." He drew a small, dark-bound book from his sleeve and handed it to her.
Intrigued, Liriel opened the book and held it up to catch the feint candlelight. On the pages of yellowed parchment were strange runes, angular like those of the drow language, but simpler and crudely drawn.
"What is this?"
"It is a curiosity I came across," Kharza said, speeding through the words as if they'd been well rehearsed. "A merchant of my acquaintance sold me a box of books. Some were valuable, some merely interesting. I'm afraid this is among the latter, but I thought you might enjoy it, knowing how insatiable you are."
Liriel tossed a teasing leer in his direction. "You don't know the half of it."
The wizard sighed. "An old drow's pride is his downfall," he said, ruefully quoting a familiar expression. "You will never forget my lamentable lack of discretion, will you, or tire of tormenting me?"
"Probably not," she agreed cheerfully, and then bent over her new treasure. The unfamiliar language was no barrier: a simple spell transposed the scratchlike markings into elegant drow script. Liriel skimmed a few pages, then raised incredulous eyes to her tutor.
"This book is from the surface!"
"Yes, I thought it might be," he said, shifting uneasily.
"It has stories about a people called the Rus, their heroes and their gods. There's something in it about rune magic. What is that?"
"You know of course that runes and glyphs can be enspelled and used as defenses," he began.
"Yes, yes," she interrupted impatiently. "But this is something different. This is a magic cast by shaping new runes. How is that done?"
"Of that, I know nothing, but it sounds too easy to be powerful." Kharza-kzad dismissed the notion with a sniff. "Human mages seldom-if ever-reach the level of power we know here Below. I wouldn't waste any time on the magic system of some long-dead human culture. The book, I thought, might help in some small way to satisfy your longing for far places during the time you are confined in Aracfa-Tinilith." He shrugged apologetically. "It seems this was hardly necessary. I had no idea you would be studying other worlds so soon."
The female's smile was brilliant and genuine. "All the same, the book is wonderful and I shall read every word. That you thought of me at all is gift enough."
Kharza-kzad cleared his throat nervously. "Then I should be returning to the Spelltower Xorlarrin. If you have no objection, I will conjure the same gate you used to enter my study."
"Why did you not come that way in the first place, instead of creeping down the halls?"
"I did not copy the spell from your book. And, despite rumors to the contrary, I did not know where your room was," he said, with an unexpected touch of dry humor. "Without a firm destination in mind, magical travel can be dangerous and unpredictable."
"Indeed. You might have ended up sharing a bubble bath with Mistress Zeld," she murmured, her face deceptively serious.
Tes. Ahem. Well." The wizard hesitated, and his worry lines deepened into a look of near panic. "If you like, I can make the gate permanent so you can step into the Spelltower whenever you like. Then I can continue