Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [120]
"Doesn't it?" she retorted bitterly. "I am Arilyn Moonblade. Where does the sword end and where do I begin? If guilt belongs to the elfshadow, and the shadow is the moonblade's reflection of me, how can I be unstained by guilt?"
Bran Skorlsun broke his silence at last. "I have seen the elfshadow before, although at the time it wore another face. It's merely the entity of the sword, and the sword is yours, Arilyn Moonblade."
"That's right," Danilo agreed, "and now the elfshadow is yours to command, as well. Whatever his purpose, Kymil Nimesin failed when the elfshadow broke free of his control."
Arilyn's laughter was hollow. "Twenty and more Harpers lie dead. How did Kymil fail?"
"We three are alive," the nobleman said grimly, "and Kymil does not possess the moonblade."
* * * * *
By highsun, Kymil Nimesin was fully recovered from the backlash of the magical explosion. He sifted the bits of blackened crystal through his long slender fingers, furious at his inability to reconstruct the priceless scrying globe.
The crystal had been shattered when the magical link binding it with the enspelled topaz broke. In the moment just before the magical explosion, one image had burned itself into the gold elf's memory: the tantalizing, infuriating picture of the moonblade, once again whole but beyond his reach.
Why the elfshadow had not retrieved the restored moonblade, Kymil could not begin to fathom. For over a year the entity had followed his every command. So accustomed was Kymil to obedience that it had not occurred to him that the elfshadow might break free once the moonstone was returned to the sword. Inexplicably, his elfshadow assassin-his finest magical achievement-was no longer under his control. It had failed in its final, most vital task.
Kymil resisted the urge to fling the useless bits of broken crystal across the room, instead calling for his assistant. Ever attentive, the etriel glided into his room.
"Filauria, send word to the Tel'Quessir Elite." He waved a hand over the pile of charred fragments. "Obviously I can no longer reach them through the crystal. I shall meet them at the academy, and we teleport at once for Evereska."
The etriel bowed and left Kymil alone to fume over the unexpected failure of his plan. He didn't have the wretched sword. According to his sources in the watch, Arilyn Moonblade, Bran Skorlsun, and Blackstaff's nephew still lived and were under arrest in Waterdeep castle. If those three put their resources together, they would be able to discern his goal. His plan had gone fully and truly awry.
He would have to fall back on his contingency plan.
Kymil smiled. He understood his half-breed student well. Skilled though she was, Arilyn believed herself under the shadow of the moonblade. She would take upon herself the guilt of the Harper Assassin, and she would come after him to redeem her name and her sense of honor. No one would be able to talk her out of it. Of that he had no doubt.
And she would bring him the moonblade.
Eighteen
The bright sun of mid-afternoon set the forest ablaze with color as the three riders approached the gate of the Waterdeep Academy of Arms, the prestigious training school that was set several miles to the west of the city's walls. Arilyn, who had been strangely quiet during the ride, dismounted and strode up to the gatehouse. The two students who stood guard eyed the approaching half-elf with interest and presented their best imitation of seasoned warriors.
"State your business," one of the lads growled in an uncertain baritone.
Seeing that Arilyn was prepared to do so at the point of a sword, Danilo came forward and took over. "We are three Harper agents. Our business is with one of your instructors."
The students held a whispered consultation, then the future baritone made a respectful gesture and let them pass. The other lad called for someone to stable the