Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [119]
The mask seemed to cling to the skin around its wearer's eyes, and to move and flex with it. Beneath it, a superior eyebrow rose in amusement. "I require one thing of all thinking beings I encounter: their name," the elf explained flatly. "Those who resist me, I destroy. Choose swiftly, or I shall make the choice for you."
El shrugged. "My name is no precious secret," he said, and his voice seemed to roll out across the chamber. Here, at least, he could be heard perfectly. "I am Elminster Aumar, a prince in the human land of Atha-lantar, and the Coronal recently named me an ar-mathor of Cormanthor. I work magic. I also seem to have a blundering talent for upsetting elves whom I encounter."
The mage gave Elminster a cold smile and a nod of agreement. "Indeed. Is your present form voluntary? Good for spying out the secrets of elven magic, perhaps?"
"No," said Elminster genially, "and not particularly."
"How is it, then, that you came to be in the ruined home of the noted elven mage Mythanthar? Have you worked with him?"
"No. Nor am I pledged to any sorcerer of Cormanthor." El doubted this masked wizard would consider the Coronal a sorcerer, and the Srinshee was a "sorceress."
"I'm not accustomed to asking questions twice, and you stand very much within my power." The masked mage drifted a foot or so closer.
El raised an eyebrow of his own. "And whose power would that be? A name for a name is the custom among the People as well as in the affairs of men."
The masked mage seemed to smile-almost. "You may call me The Masked. Speak not again save in answer to my query, or I shall blow you away to nameless dust forever."
El shrugged. "The answer is, I fear, as unrevealing as your name: simple curiosity took me thence, along with half the elves in Cormanthor, it seems, for I fairly swam in peering eyes."
The masked mage did smile this time. "What, then, attracted your curious attention to that locale?"
"The beauty of two sorceresses," El replied. "I wanted to see where they'd go, and perhaps learn their names and where they dwelt."
The Masked acquired a cold smile. "You consider elf-shes fitting mates for human men, do you?"
"I've never considered the matter," Elminster replied easily. "Like most men, I'm attracted to beauty wherever I find it. Like most elves, I see no harm in looking at what I cannot have, or where I dare not venture."
The Masked nodded slightly, and remarked, "Most Cormanthans would deem this chamber around you a place they'd dare not venture into. And rightly so: to intrude here would cost them their lives."
"And have ye come to a decision in the matter of my intrusion?" Elminster asked calmly. "Or was that decision made when ye 'harvested' me in the ruins?"
The elven mage shrugged. "I could easily destroy you. As a visible phantom you have little value other than as a spy or herald-one easily swept away by the right spells. As a whole man, however, you could be of service."
"As a willing agent?" El asked, "Or as a dupe?"
The thin mouth of The Masked tightened still further. "I am not accustomed to overmuch impertinence even from rivals, man-let alone apprentices."
Silence hung between them for a long moment. A very long moment.
Well, Mystra? That silent plea for guidance was instantly rewarded by a glimpse of Elminster nodding in this same room, as the masked elven mage demonstrated something. Well enough.
"Apprentices?" Elminster asked, a breath before his hesitation might become fatally overlong. "Would I be correct in discerning a most gracious offer… master?"
The Masked smiled. "You would. I take it you accept?"
"I do. I still have much to learn about magic, and in that learning I should like to be guided by someone I can respect."
The elven mage said nothing, and lost his smile, but something about him seemed to radiate satisfaction as he turned away. "Certain exacting spells are necessary for your return to full and normal physical form," he said over his shoulder, as he strode to a wall, touched it, and watched a stained and battered