Elminster in Myth Drannor - Ed Greenwood [89]
Inevitably stones rolled and bounced, but the levitating elf was snarling so much in his battle with the ghost that no one heard the little clatterings. El reached the bottom, rolled up cord until he had a substantial bundle, tied it to itself to keep the mass together, and threw the thing back up the fallen rocks as high and far as he could, hoping it'd not be seen.
Well, not without someone flying, or a very bright light, he judged, studying it. Drawing a deep breath, he started his first casting: a simple shielding, like he'd used against Delmuth. It was time to face Ivran's merry band of blood hunters.
His casting warned the elves that magic was being unleashed, of course, and there was an immediate, excited roar from the room they'd been searching. They'd be coming along the narrow passage soon; it was time to greet them.
Elminster showed himself at the mouth of that passage just long enough to make sure of one thing: the levitating elf wasn't trying to find any ceiling route anywhere, but was descending as fast as he could. Good. El gave the foremost elf a merry wave, and waited.
"He waved at me!" that elf said anxiously, and stopped.
The one behind him-Tlannatar Wrathtree, as it happened-gave him a nudge with the flat of his sword, and snarled, "Go on!"
The elf hesitated. El gave him a grin that must have showed every tooth he possessed, and made an almost amorous beckoning gesture.
The elf stopped, and started to scramble back. "He-"
"I don't care!" Ivran barked, from the room behind. "I don't care if he's grown dwarven-dunged gossamer wings! Move!"
"Go on!" Tlannatar added, giving another shove with his sword. He did not use the flat this time.
The less-than-brave elf shrieked and stumbled hastily ahead. El took one last glance down that passage-it was so tempting to hurl a lightning bolt now, but one of them was sure to have a mantle that would reflect such things-and backed away. He went across the tower room to its other passage, to stand within its opening. Almost none of these noble Cormanthans seemed to have bows; they left that weapon to their common warriors, thank Mystra. Or Corellon. Or Solonor Thelandira, the hunting god. Or whomever.
Still, he'd have to time this perfectly; he'd committed himself now, and would only get one chance. He waited, smiling grimly, for Tlannatar as well as the fearful elf in the lead to scramble out into the tower room and see him before he turned and sprinted down the linking passages, hurrying for the shattered chamber through which the hunters had first entered the castle.
"If this doesn't work, Mystra," he remarked pleasantly, as he ran, "you'll have to send someone else into Cormanthor to be your Chosen. If you want to be gentle on whoever that is, select an elf, hmm?"
Mystra gave no sign that she'd heard, but by then El was out into the shattered chamber, and heading for a rock pile at its center. The elves, running fast, weren't far behind.
El found his spot and spun to face them, assuming an anxious expression and raising his hands as if uncertain which spell to hurl. The blood hunters came racing into the chamber, waving their blades, and howled their way to a halt.
The elf who'd been first in the narrow passage said uncertainly, "This doesn't look right-he wasn't so fearful before. This must be a tr-"
"Silence!" Ivran Selorn snarled, shoving the speaker aside. The fearful elf slipped on fallen stones and almost fell, but Ivran paid no attention. It was his moment of glory; he was swaggering toward Elminster with leisurely grace, almost dancing on the tips of his toes as he came. "So, human rat," he sneered, "cornered at last, are you?"
"You are," Elminster agreed with a smile. The fearful elf raised a fresh cry of alarm, but Ivran hissed, "Be still!" at him, and then turned back to favor Elminster with