Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [32]
After the mission the dying Iymbryl had set him stood his first task for Mystra. El shook his head in exasperation. This place was so beautiful; he wanted so much to just stroll and enjoy it.
Just as he'd wanted to grow up in Athalantar with his mother and father, not shiver in the wilds as an orphan outlaw, hunted by magelords. Aye, there was always someone with magic lurking about to ruin things. El set his jaw and went northeast. He'd strike clear across the city, and then try to circle around its outermost trails from there-he reckoned he'd trudged most of its labyrinthine heart already, with nary a sign of the falcon sigil of Alastrarra.
No unseen blade felled him, but the feeling of being watched didn't fade, either. The glows of enchanted symbols were growing stronger around El, now, as he walked. The gleam of the setting sun touched the tree-tops into golden flame, but down here in the dappled gloom its lances never penetrated.
The elven games and music went on unabated as twilight came down over Cormanthor. El walked on, trying not to show how anxious he was becoming. Could the lore-gem have played him false? Had it shown him an older House Alastrarra, or was the mansion well outside the city? Yet it held no scenes of another family holding, nor any sense that it was elsewhere in Cormanthor. Surely Iymbryl had known where he lived.
Aye, known too well for it to matter and be set forth clearly in the gem's stored memories. The whereabouts of House Alastrarra were a known, everyday thing to the bearers of the gems, not something…
But wait! Wasn't that a-no, the falcon symbol he was seeking?
El turned aside, pace quickening. It was!
His call of thanks to Mystra was no less fervent because of its silence.
The arched gate stood open, blue and green spell-glows winking and crawling up and down its filigree of living vines. El stepped inside, took two paces into the gloom of the twilit garden beyond, and then turned to survey the street behind him.
No elf stood there, but the unseen gaze remained unbroken. Slowly El turned around again.
Something gleamed in the air ahead of him, floating above the winding garden path. Something that hadn't been there moments before. It was the gleaming helm, arms, and shoulders of an elf in armor.
Or the semblance of such a guard-because those arms and shoulders and head were all he faced. The body that should have been beneath them was missing, the dark, gleaming armor trailing away like smoke below the breast of the silent apparition. As El stared at it, something rose menacingly from behind a bush off to the left: another armored form, just like the first.
El swallowed. So he'd awakened the magical defenses of this place. Blasting them with spells was probably not the wisest choice. So he turned slowly on his heels as guardian after guardian rose silently out of the dusk-cloaked garden, to ring him in on all sides.
Fire kindled then, behind the eye slits of one helm, as El found himself facing the one who'd first blocked his way. The mansion rose beyond it, just as in the scene the gem had shown him. The soft glows of moving lights showed from the tall, narrow windows the Alastrarrans were so proud of.
Right now, some of them might be glancing out those windows to see what manner of creature their guardians were slaying.
As El stood quietly, wondering what to do, and searching frantically through the gem's visions in search of some guidance, thin beams of amber fire suddenly reached out from the fire raging within the helm before him to touch the disguised prince of Athalantar.
El felt no pain; the beams were sweeping through him, leaving behind a tingling, rather than burning or tearing. There was a sudden warmth on his brow and a burst of light that almost blinded him. He narrowed his eyes until he could see again.
The lore-gem had blazed into life, glowing like a leaping flame in the darkness of the garden. Its eruption seemed to satisfy the guardians. The searching beams winked out, and the menacing helms began to sink into the