Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [141]
The watchers in the Court saw one of the living pillars of white flame waver for a moment, but witnessed no other sign of the savage spell attack that burned the brain and innards of Lord Aulauthar Orbryn to ashes, leaving his body a mindless shell.
Now he was part of the weave at last, part of the eager flow and growth of new powers. Orbryn had been crafting the part of the future Mythal that identified creatures by their races. Dragons were to be shut out, were they? Dopplegangers, of course, and orcs, too.
Well, why not expand on Aulauthar's excellent work, and make the Mythal deadly to all non-pureblood elves? Deadly by, say, highsun tomorrow. Dearly though he'd have loved to slay that pollution Elminster, awakening the power now would smite down two more of the weavers of the Mythal-Mentor and the halfblood- and would mean his own certain detection. And after Uldreiyn Starym was dust, they'd simply spin another Mythal to replace the one he'd shattered.
Oh, no, best to bide a bit; he had much grander plans than that.
This outstrips everything but knowing the love of a goddess, Elminster thought, as he soared along pathways of white fire, feeling power surge through him. With every passing instant the grandeur grew, as the Mythal expanded in size and scope. Half a hundred minds were at work, now, smoothing and shaping and making it all larger and more intricate; cross-connected here and augmented there, and…
Elminster stiffened, where he was floating in the web, and then whirled through an intricate junction and turned back. There had been sharp, very brief pain and a flash of intolerable heat, followed by a whiff of confusion. A death? Something had gone wrong, something now concealed. Treachery, if that's what it was, could doom the Mythal before it was even born.
It had been a long way back, down and deep. Gods, were they under attack, back in the court? As he descended, his mind flashed out to touch that of Beldroth, part of the expanding web now, humming as he floated just clear of the ground, a wide-eyed child floating with him. People all around were murmuring and drawing back from him warily, but there was more wonder than hostility. No, the guards stood watchfully, but peace held in the Chamber of the Court.
So where, then…?
He sank down warily, to where the web was anchored, heading for the elves. The High Court Mage was fine, as was Alea Dahast, an-no! There! An awareness that did not belong to Lord Aulauthar Orrin had peered at him along the white fire, just for a moment; a sentience whose regard had been anything but kindly.
The work the false Orbryn was doing on the Mythal was tainted to destroy all non-elven! This must be why he was here, what he'd spent twenty years working toward! To stop this treachery! Be with me now, Mystra, El thought, for now I strike for thee.
And riding a plume of white fire, Elminster arrowed down into what had once been Lord Aulauthar Orbryn, and lashed out at who he found there.
The wave of white fire rolled through the ruins of what had once been Orbryn's mind, and El drew back from it a little. The mental bolt that would have impaled him flashed out and missed. The body around them shuddered under its searing impact.
Snarling silently, Elminster struck back.
His bolt was rebuffed by a mind as strong and as deep as his own. An elven elder with whom he'd never brushed minds. A Starym? El sped sideways along the lines of fire, so that the next strike-and his counter-stroke-both tore through the construct the false Orbryn had woven, wrecking it beyond repair. The Mythal would not now slay non-elves, whatever else befell.
That left nothing to shield Elminster Aumar. The next thrust from the mighty mind he faced pierced and held him no matter how hard he thrashed, bearing down with mindfire.
Red pain erupted, and with it memories began to flow as they were lost, crashing over him one after another in a racing, confusing flood. Elminster