Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [93]
"Which is?"
"To restore the honor to bardcraft."
"Strange way to go about it," Danilo observed. "Her concept of honor requires a good deal of preliminary destruction. How can these spells of hers be undone?"
"By singing the ballad in its entirety. Throughout the riddle are sprinkled hints to its performance. Many of these are hidden in other clues."
Danilo thought this over, nodding as something occurred to him "The key to the spell," he repeated softly. He looked up at Wyn. "Remember the riddle that opened the scroll?
"The beginning of eternity,
The end of time and space,
It is the start of every end
And the end of every place."
The Harper spoke the riddle quickly, and shook his head in astonishment at his own shortsightedness. "The keyto the spell was the letter E,right? Answering the riddle opened the scroll, but it also gives the keyin which the spell must be sung."
"I hadn't noticed that particular double riddle," Wyn admitted, "but there are several others."
"By Milil," Danilo swore, invoking the god of music, "this bard of ours has a twisted mind. We'll have to look at every phrase and line from three different angles just to put the pieces of this spell together."
"That is so. But I'm afraid this puts you in a great deal of danger, my friend."
"This whole adventure has not been lacking in danger," Danilo observed. "But why me, specifically?"
"You probably know the legend of Heward's Mystical
Organ. If this artifact could be found, one could theoretically cast an infinite number of spells by playing tunes upon its keys."
"If one survived the effort," Danilo said dryly. "Also according to legend, those whose research is faulty or whose musicianship is not up to the task will end up dead or mad."
The elven minstrel nodded gravely. "That danger is present in the casting of any powerful spell, and this one will be no exception. This spell was cast by wedding elfsong to the power of the Morninglark. The magic is therefore doubly powerful, and it must be undone by singing the entire ballad and playing upon the Morninglark itself."
"Which only a spellsinger can do. That's you."
"I'm afraid not," Wyn countered. "Remember, I do not play the harp. The task therefore falls to you."
Danilo took a deep breath. He had no choice but to attempt the spell, yet he was not a spellsinger like Wyn, or even much of a bard! His eyes drifted toward the elven hermit, who had set aside the lyre and was now dancing to wild music only he could hear. The Harper knew that if his voice faltered or his fingers stumbled on the strings, the mad elf's fate could be his. As soon as he trusted himself to speak, he raised his eyes to Wyn's.
"You promised me a lesson in elfsong," he said casually. "I believe this would be a good time to start."
*****
Silent as a shadow, Elaith Craulnober picked his way through the debris that littered Twoflask Alley. But for the elf, the lane was deserted; local wisdom had it that no one who'd imbibed less than two flasks of something much stronger than ale would chance the dangerous passage after sunset. Raised planks paved the center of the narrow throughway, allowing the foolish, the inebriated, or the intrepid to walk above most of the garbage and sewage that was tossed into the alley from the seedy taverns and storehouses on either side.
The elf's boots made no sound on the wide boards, and beneath his feet the rats scuttled and snarled undisturbed, busily foraging before the daily sluicing washed much of the garbage-and many of the rats-into the large sewer gratings that dotted either side of the path. There were no gaslights or torches to dispel the darkness of Twoflask Alley, and the elf made his way quickly toward the back entrance of the infamous Thirsty Sailor Tavern in darkness. The patrons of this tavern favored the dark, and they tended to vanish