Elminster in hell - Ed Greenwood [83]
"Aye," Alustriel said into the astonished silence, "he did." Ignoring the startled looks from the men crowding around her, she added, "After he was pushed."
Meeting her uncle's eyes steadily, she added, "1 was disinclined to become a bride of Bane-and before my wedding night, too."
She turned her back on them all with newfound dignity and left then. Her uncle's astonished curses faded behind her as she sought her room again. His voice sounded, she thought, amazed and… and a little pleased.
Now to ask Gaerd how to become a Harper. Alustriel looked down at herself, shrugged at her state of dress, and turned her aching, whip-scarred legs down a different passage. Why not now? Why should her uncle be the only one roused this night?
When she knocked on the wizard's door, it opened, and Gaerd was smiling at her-sleepily, but smiling nonetheless.
There was a crystal sphere in his hand, and in it she saw, with a little shock, the open window of her room as seen from within… captured as a tiny scene within the.'j globe. The mage waved her to a chair, beaming at her proudly. On the table beyond the seat, a harp of silver hue was playing softly, by itself… and with a smile, she recognized her tune.
Chapter Thirteen
NERGAL SURPRISED
Adrift in a dream of pain, Elminster gradually came awake to the realization that it was real. He was floating, or falling, through a cloud of red and black smoky foulness shot through with crackling fires. Bolts of bright fury lanced out of it from time to time to transfix him. He was falling through Nergal's mind.
Awake, little worm? Wasted my time again, thank you kindly.
[mind bolt jabs repeatedly until the human writhes and curls in shuddering pain, and then jabs still more]
What did i think of it? Charming. [sneer] Defeat a man by luck, and take your reward from the goddess.
[gasp] Well, mind-slave, i've lost patience. Again. Prepare to he taken apart. I'm through dancing to your little games. I'm going to find and take the useful memories from you and be done. Die, mighty wizard!
[bright arc of mind bolts, raining down like fire and splashing back up to overwhelm all, searing the tumbling, howling, fading form of the human host]
Give me, fool! Give me what i seek!
[bright ring of fire, tightening into a noose around the falling, dwindling, limbless essence of Elminster]
Give me that silver fire!
***
In the void where stars fall endlessly, a head lifted, blue-black hair swirling behind it in a great wave. Stars shaped themselves into a frown. "Something is amiss."
The Weave quivered once more. Mystra's eyes blazed in sudden silver.
"Elminster! Old Rogue, what befalls?"
She reached out for the familiar sly warmth, the impudent whimsy that always met her touch with a wink and a caress… and found nothing.
"Elminster!”
Alarmed, the goddess of magic gathered her strength around her in bright array and quested forth in earnest.
Pain… the silver fire spilling… in the Hells!
Her teacher, the root of much of her power, her surest link to the Mystra who'd been before her-in peril!
"No!” Brightness blazed up amid the stars, and the void shook.
Across Faerun, altars to the Lady of All Mysteries erupted in blue fire that consumed nothing and seared no hand caught in it but jolted all sworn faithful into full, restless wakefulness. Locks on spellbooks failed, and tomes boomed open. Runes blazed up to trace spinning mirror glows of themselves above their pages, and dragons rumbled and growled and looked this way and that for foes or visitations.
In a clearing in Neverwinter Wood, the young mage Dethaera Matchlass drifted wonderingly in the grip of her first Magefire ritual. She soared in sudden bright array high above the astonished heads of her fellow worshipers. She sobbed in pain and wonder as spell after unfamiliar, mighty spell unfolded in bright glory