Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [84]
Nor did she trust Kharza-kzad. Like Gromph, he had his own agenda. This had been made abundantly clear by the wizard's gift of a gate that would enable her to slip out of the Academy at will. Before that, Liriel had assumed the old wizard's interest in her had been strictly personal, that he enjoyed their association for the bragging rights it gave him. Even if he had not told one lying tale, it was apparent he found the company and attention of a beautiful young female gratifying. But there was more. Liriel was convinced her tutor had plans of his own, and that he wished to make her a part of his unseen design.
Still, she needed Kharza-kzad. As a master of the Sorcere, he had access to scrolls and books denied most wizards, and Spelltower Xorlarrin was as well equipped a magical laboratory as Menzoberranzan could produce. This, it seemed, was due in no little part to the wizard's constant and secret trade with the merchants of the Dragon's Hoard.
Which was yet another risk that Liriel had taken. She'd sent for Nisstyre and asked him to sell her every book of human lore he could buy or steal on extremely short notice.
Possession of these books was illegal, of course, and even though such an exorbitant purchase would bring her to near-ruin Liriel saw no alternative. She dared not ask specifically for books of rune lore for fear that doing so would show too much of her hand. The black-eyed merchant was also a wizard, and he knew more about the Lands of Light than any of Menzoberranzan's magic-wielders. He would be more likely than Kharza, even more likely than Gromph, to put together what she planned to do.
Nisstyre, however, had been nothing but helpful. He brought several boxes of books to her and bid her take whatever she liked and return the rest at no cost. He offered to answer any questions she might have about the Lands of Light, and even hinted he would be pleased to act as her guide. He hinted at a great many things, actually, with a boldness that few males of Menzoberranzan would have dared. Although Liriel had little interest in a personal liaison with the copper-haired merchant, she might have taken him up on one or two of his other offers if she'd had the time.
Time. With a sigh, Liriel cast a quick glance at the glowing sands in her hourglass. What little time she'd purchased was almost out, for sooner or later the too-busy Triel would hear of her niece's absence and force her back into Arach-Tinilith. In truth, three days of freedom was more than Liriel had expected.
She had used her stolen time well. She had committed to memory maps of the lands above her, learned more about the people and their ways. What she did not learn, however, was how the amulet in her hand could be turned to her purpose.
Aimlessly, Liriel twisted at the dagger. To her amazement, the tiny hilt turned in her hands and the weapon came free of its sheath.
The dark elf examined the golden object and received her second surprise. It was not a dagger at all, but a small chisel. The tool remained bright and sharp-edged, with not a hint of corrosion despite the water that filled the bottom of the sheath.
"A chisel," she murmured. "Of course!"
The dark elf seized her book of rune lore and paged through it with growing excitement. Near the end she found a crudely drawn picture of an ancient, sprawling oak. The tree was called Yggsdrasil's Child, and its thick, gnarled trunk was marked with the runes of a thousand spells. According to the text, only the most powerful runes could be carved on this tree, and only with tools forged by powerful runecasters and blessed by the gods of the ancient Rus.
Liriel raised the tiny chisel and regarded it with awe. Was it possible she held such a thing in her hand? She studied the picture closely. Yes, some of the markings on the ancient oak were identical to those on the amulet.
But could she, a drow of