Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [69]
"Limi," she said earnestly, "this body you see is not of my doing, and when first you found me here and now, I was but newly aware of it. I know not where it came from-it could be some old joke of the Dlardrageth, for all I know-and the young human certainly didn't give it to me, or promise it; he doesn't even know about it!"
Ilimitar waved a dismissive hand. "Words-just words," he said heavily. "Always your sharpest weapons. They don't work with me anymore, witch!" He was panting, now, as he faced her.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked, taking something small from a belt pouch and raising it into view.
"It's from the Vault of Ages," he added mockingly. "You should know!"
"It's the Overmantle of Halgondas," the Srinshee said quietly, her face going pale.
"You fear it, don't you?" he snarled, triumph glinting in his eyes again. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me using it! And then, old witch, you are mine!"
"How so?"
"Our mantles will merge, and become one. Not only will you not ward off my spells, but you won't escape; if you flee, you'll drag me with you!" He laughed, his tones high and wild, and the Srinshee knew then that he was mad, and that she would have to kill him here, or perish.
He broke the Overmantle.
The inexorable surging together of their two mantles began, their ragged ends searching for, and attracted to, each other. The Srinshee sighed and began to walk toward her onetime pupil. It was time to use the spell she hated.
"Surrendering?" Ilimitar asked, almost gleefully. "Or are you foolish enough to think you can fight on-and prevail? I'm a High Court Mage, witch, not the youth you showed castings to! Your magic is all trickery and old sly spells and little magics for scaring younglings!"
The Srinshee drew in a deep breath, and lifted her chin. "Well then, grand and mighty sorcerer-destroy me if you must!"
High Court Mage Ilimitar gave her an disbelieving look, raised his hands, and said gruffly, "I'll make it quick."
A trident of spell spears thrust through her. She stood unmoving, though her eyes rolled up in her head and she bit her lip. After the spell began to fade, her body started to tremble.
Ilimitar watched her. Well, it wasn't his fault she'd spun so many preservative and guardian enchantments down the centuries, layer upon layer. She'd just have to endure the pain, now, as they kept her alive longer than was necessary.
She brought her head down, eyes closed, and stood breathing heavily. Blood ran down her face from her closed eyelids, and dripped on the shattered stones underfoot. Ilimitar's nostrils flared in distaste. So it was martyr time, was it? He'd make short work of that.
His next spell was a thrust of pure energy that should have left her in ashes. When it faded and he could see again, the stones were melted away in a neat circle, and she stood ankle-deep in rubble, blackened and with all her hair burnt away-but she still stood, and still shuddered.
What foul pact had the sorceress made with human mages? Ilimitar cast the spell she'd once forbid him utterly to use; the one that summoned the Hungry Worm.
The worm materialized coiled about one of her arms, but it slithered straight for her belly, and began burrowing into the cracked and blackened flesh immediately. Ilimitar sighed and hoped it would be quick; he had to be sure that human was dead, and swiftly, so he could be back at court to denounce the Coronal before nightfall. But he was trapped here with the Srinshee, inside the shared Overmantle, until one of them was dead.
It was a pity, really. She'd been a good teacher-if an overly strict one, with little love for pranks and stealing days in high summer to snatch honey and nibble berries and hunt down new owl eggs-and she should never have sunk to this. She'd been old even then, though, and no doubt tempted to take any means to regain youth. But consorting