Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [79]
Khelben Arunsun came over to the bar, and his footsteps seemed to echo through the deserted room. He placed a small leather bag on the polished wood. "My apologies, Imzeel," he said in a voice devoid of expression. "Please accept this purse; the gold within should cover your lost business."
The next instant he was gone.
"Well, I never," Ginalee huffed in mock indignation, her voice slightly unsteady but her sense of fun fully intact. "He just upped and disappeared! No flash of light, no puffs of colored smoke, not even a whiff of brimstone! They've got more interesting wizards over in Thay, or so I hear."
"Ginalee," Imzeel said in a weary voice, "why don't you take the rest of the night off."
Ten
Danilo and his elven companions lingered in the Lusty Wench through the evening hours and long into the night. When the black night sky began to fade to indigo and the last of the stars disappeared, many patrons of the Lusty Wench festhall and tavern were still enjoying the justly famed fortified wine, the exotic entertainment, and the company of the tavern's resident escorts. The Harper and his associates walked out into the dark and silent streets of Sundabar considerably poorer of coin, but with a good deal of information.
The freak summer storm had covered only a part of Sundabar. The trades district was hardest hit-Danilo privately noted that the site of the barding college was located in the very center of this area-with violent thunderstorms and hail. Various explanations were offered, but most of the tavern's patrons considered the strange Midsummer weather to be an evil omen. More important sentries had spoken of a bard who had entered the city that morning, carrying a small dark harp and riding a snow-white asperii. No one could give details of her appearance, except that she was small and swathed in a light cloak.
"A sorceress of power could command an asperii," Danilo mused as they walked down the dark street, "but an asperii will not willingly serve one who embraces evil. It's hard to believe that our foe has the benefit of the Northlands in mind!"
"We've learned all we can here," Wyn said impatiently. "Let's return at once. I need to have a look at the riddle scroll."
Danilo stopped and studied the minstrel. "What do you expect to find?"
"I'm not sure. I just feel that we may have been missing something important," was all that the elf would say, shooting a pointed glance in Elaith's direction. Danilo took the hint and left the matter for a later discussion.
The Harper led the elves into a nearby alley and again called upon the magic of his ring. When the whirling light faded, they found themselves in the ruined garden where they'd met up days before.
The signs of battle were still visible in the faint light that preceded dawn. Three mounds of soft earth marked the places where they'd buried the fallen mercenaries, and at the far corner of the garden a bonfire had reduced the dead harpies to a pile of foul-smelling bones and ashes.
"Why have you brought us here?" Elaith snarled, taking in the scene with distaste. "We were supposed to meet the others near Ganstar's Creek!"
"Magical travel is reliable only if the destination is known. I could have tried for the creek, but at the risk of ending up being a permanent part of the landscape. Imagine a tree wearing your ears for knotholes, and you've got the general idea."
The elf hissed with exasperation and turned to leave.
"Wait1" shrieked a voice behind them, edged with hysteria. The elven hermit came loping from an abandoned building, his tattered rags fluttering around him "Coming along I be," he said, casting a pleading look at Elaith. "You be seeking the Morninglark, and dance to the harp I do."
Wyn Ashgrove looked sharply at the disheveled elf. "The Morninglark! What have you do to with the Harp of Ingrival?"
The hermit's