Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [26]
The muttering wizard heard the boulder thunder back into place, and lifted an eyebrow. Had the Athalantan managed only a short jump spell and now set off something nearby in the gorge? Or had the magekiller finally won free?
He turned around, pushing back his sleeves. He still had a chain lightning spell, if the need arose…
Something was rising out of the gorge-or rather, several somethings. Wraiths-ghostly remnants of men, their legs trailing away into wisps of white mist, their bodies mere white shadows in the shade.
They could slay, yes, but he had the right spell to.,. he peered at them again. Elves? Were there elven wraiths? And held between them, still waving its talons as they dragged it along-his magekiller!
It was at that moment that Heldebran, last surviving apprentice to the Magelords of Athalantar, felt the first touch of fear.
"And you are?" one of the spectral elves asked, as they swept toward him.
"Keep your distance!" the wizard Heldebran snapped, raising his hands. They did not slow in the slightest, so he hastily spun the spell that would blast all undead to harmless dust, forever, and watched it flash out to enfold them like a web.
And fade away, unheeded.
"Stylish," another of the wraithlike elves commented, as they settled down to the earth in a ring around him. Their feet remained indistinct, and their bodies seemed to pulse, shifting continuously in and out of brightness.
"Oh, I don't know," said a third spectral elf, in heavily accented Common. "These humans always make such a noise and show of things. A simple word and a look would have been enough. They always exult so, in the unleashings of their power – like children."
"They are children," a fourth replied. "Why, look at this one."
"I don't know who you are," Heldebran of Athalantar snapped, "but I – "
"See? All threats and bluster!" the fourth elf added.
"Well, enough of it," the first elf said commandingly. "Human, fire magics are not tolerated here. You have roused the unsleeping guardians of the Sacred Vale, and must pay the price."
Nervously Heldebran glanced around. The ring did seem tighter, now, though the elves still regarded him calmly, and made no move to lift their arms from their sides. He spat out the words he'd need and raised his hands in hasty claws.
Lightning crackled from the tips of his fingers, dancing bright lines of hungry sparks into the spectral elves. It shot through them, to claw vainly among the trees beyond. Smoke curled up from bark here and there.
One elf turned his head to regard it, and the lightning abruptly vanished, leaving only a few wisps of smoke behind.
The ring stood unchanged. The elves looked, if anything, slightly amused.
"Worse than that," the first elf said sternly, as if the interruption had never occurred, "you created something that feeds on magic and sent it to the very heart of our oldest castings. This."
The ghostly guardian's tone was one of utter disgust. His chest bulged, gave off small streams of bright radiance, and then burst as the magekiller drifted into view through it, claws waving feebly at the elves all around. Heldebran felt a sudden, wild surge of hope. Perhaps his creature could be set against these elf-wraiths, and he might yet defeat them, or…
"Let the punishment be fitting and final, nameless human," the stern elf added, as the magekiller turned its head, and saw its creator.
Darkness swam in the many orbs Heldebran stared into, and claws scratched the air with sudden vigor. Whispering faintly, the tattered remnant of his creature drifted forward purposefully.
"No!" the apprentice Magelord shrieked, as those feeble claws cut at his eyes. "Noooo!"
The ring of elven guardians was solid around him now, and their eyes were cold. The human wizard rushed at them, and found himself striking a solid, very hard wall of unseen force. He threw himself along it, sobbing. Then the seeking claws reached him, and dragged him down.