Elminster in hell - Ed Greenwood [136]
Live again, foolish wizard. Almost i tore you apart for good-but you are a toy I have, and other devils do not. Moreover, you are at least… Interesting. I know what you're doing. Time and again, turning me skillfully aside amid your shadows, revealing what is unimportant and hiding from me what I seek. That's over now. I shall bear down and shred your mind
Whenever you try to do that to me again. I have most of your spells now-you cannot resist me. This time I seek memories of your using power over important folk of your realms- Not mages this time, but those who rule and who are heard when they speak. [snort] unlike me.
[mindworm, spiraling down, down, down…]
"Interesting," the Srinshee said gently, her fingertips tracing the line of his chin. "Most of my Cormanthan kin fear the ridicule of their peers more than anything else, and loss of wealth and magical power after that. You fear Failing your friends and losing them to death. You are both older in your wisdom than most elves of this city and more tragic. You've already lost more friends and kin than the younglings of Cormanthor; only we elders have known the weight of tears you bear. Yet there is something more in you-a backbone of power, always there, always warming you against the storms of life."
Her hand went to the crotch of the elaborate filigreed gown she wore, and drew a tiny dagger from a sheath there. Eyes on his, she murmured, "Forgive me. This is no attack, but I must know," Choosing a spot on the outside of his forearm, she gently drew the gleaming knife along his skin. Blood welled forth, and then-a few sparks.
The Srinshee breathed something, reaching with a finger. The silver radiance that burst from him sent her staggering back with a little cry, wreathed in flames.
Elminster spun away, clapping his hand over the wound she'd made and stammering apologies.
Weakly, from among rising tendrils of smoke and the ruins of her garments, the Srinshee replied, "Nay, man, the fault was mine. I worked the spell that tried to steal silver fire from the wound I'd made in you. Mystra is even stronger in you than I'd thought."
That's all? And you whirl it away from me like that? What if i just snatch something out of your memories thus? No, don't scream. You brought this on yourself! Let's see what we have here…
Elminster looked up from his book, frowning. What befell-?
A mote of light grew in the air…
He sprang up, tossing his tome aside and snatching his newest, most powerful warding wand.
The light was almost his own height now, and blinding bright. Golden, it was, and somehow come out of nothingness right through his defenses! What could-
The light was coming from a blade. Slender, beautiful- an enchanted elf blade, held aloft in a slender arm… the Srinshee!
"Auluua!" Elminster cried, his wand crackling in his hand-just in case. "Is it you?"
The tiny elf-maid smiled at him, though her face was sad and shadowed. "Only you call me that, El. Ah, but 'tis good to hear it again!"
She let go the sword and ran to him, leaving it floating upright in the air behind her. Golden radiance curled down like smoke from its point.
El frowned at it. "Is that the Ruling Blade?"
And then she was in his arms, looking up at him with unshed tears glimmering in her eyes, and he forgot all about swords and magic. "Hold me," she said, her voice teetering on the edge of tears, "and-kiss me! Kiss me, damn you and Mystra and all proud elves and doom, doom everywhere!"
She was weeping when he bent down and put his lips to hers, and as he lifted her in his arms her mouth was fierce and demanding, and her tiny hands as tight as claws on his arms and shoulders. Their minds met, hers like a dark sea lashed by storms, all despair and need, and his wondering and warming and wanting to soothe…
There was blood in his mouth from where she'd bitten him. The Srinshee threw back her head, shuddering, and hissed, "Listen to me. Listen, for haste rides me and goddesses other than yours. Fell magic may well follow swift