Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [92]
Magda, a dark-eyed crone who sold fanciful wooden toys and small statues, was alone in the shop. She ushered the beautiful thief into a back room which was furnished only with a small table that held a low, round basin of water.
The old woman tossed a handful of herbs into the water and spoke the words of a spell. Winnifer stepped back as the water roiled and steamed. In minutes, the herbs had dissolved into a smooth, dark surface. Reflected in it was the face of the mage Laeral.
"Greetings, Magda. Someone has located the elf for us?"
"I have Winnifer Fleetfingers with me," the crone said, and stepped back to make room for the thief.
Winnifer leaned over the scrying bowl. "I told Elaith everything I was supposed to say," she reported. "He identified the Knights' mark on that coin, and from what he said, I think he believes that the Knights and your sorceress may be in alliance."
"Good work," Laeral said. "Elaith Craulnober knows the dark side of Waterdeep better than anyone. If the elf can't ferret out the Knights' agent no one can."
"That spell scroll you're looking for? He doesn't have it on him," Winnifer added.
Laeral's silver brows flew up. "You're certain?"
The beautifully thief sniffed scornfully, and Laeral acceded to Winnifer's expertise with a nod.
"All right. He doesn't have it. Magda, get in touch with all those in the network and change their instructions. Elaith Craulnober is not to be stopped. He must be observed, but allowed to go wherever he will Make note of everyone he contacts. As for the scroll, start looking for one Vartain of Calimport."
Twelve
As soon as the sun set over Water-deep, Danilo again twisted his ring of teleportation, picturing in his mind the site he had mentioned to Wyn and the others.
He found the party camped beside the pool, in a scene of incongruous peace and beauty. The glowing sunset clouds were reflected in the still water, and in the clearing surrounding the pool fireflies blinked in and out of view. The elven hermit was off to one side, playing tunelessly upon Wyn's lyre of changing. Morgalla greeted Danilo with her usual nod, but Wyn rushed toward him. The elf was more excited that Danilo had ever seen him. "I know how the spell must be undone!"
"You do?"
"Well, almost," the elf admitted. "I made a copy of the riddle on the scroll. Vartain has been looking at it solely as a puzzle, and I thought that a musician's eye might find something he overlooked."
"And?" Danilo found that the elf's excitement was contagious.
"The ballad on the scroll is a ballad indeed, and it is meant to be sung. Look at the meter: every stanza is regular despite the lack of rhyme."
A possibility occurred to Danilo, and he sank down on a moss-covered stone. "You're an expert in Harper lore. Does the name Iriador Wintermist mean anything to you?"
"Oh, yes. She was a Harper who traveled for some time with Finder Wyvernspur's band. Her name, Iriador, is derived from the Elvish word for 'ruby,' and she was so named for her brilliant red hair. She was a notable beauty, and a gifted mage and bard."
"According to Khelben Arunsun, this woman was half-elven, and the daughter of a famous elven musician. Is it possible that she knew the art of elfsong?"
Wyn recoiled. He stared at the Harper in dismay. "Are you saying that Iriador Wintermist is our elusive sorceress? A half-elf?"
"Yes, in my own inimitable fashion. Now, are you telling me that all this turmoil has been the result of elfsong magic?"
"I'm afraid so," the minstrel admitted. "I have suspected it for some time, and my suspicions were confirmed when I learned that our enemy possesses the Morninglark. Only a powerful spellsinger can use the harp, so I assumed that the sorceress would be an elf."
"What can this harp do?"
"It allows the musician to create new spellsongs. This is not an easy matter. Our foe has created a complex spell with several layers. First, as Vartain said, there is magic in the making