Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [130]
Unshed tears glimmered in the dark eyes she raised to meet Elmara's horrified stare. "Otherwise," Myrjala added slowly, "the days and the years will pass, and both of us shall be the weaker for it-each forever clutching the other's skirts for support, neither growing in her own right."
Elmara stood staring at her in silence.
"Being a mage is a lonely thing," Myrjala said gently, "and this is why. Do you hear my words and agree?"
Elmara looked at her, trembling, and sighed. "So we must part," she whispered, "and I must go on alone… to face the magelords."
"You aren't ready to resume your vengeance yet. Live, and learn a little more first. Find me when you feel ready to challenge for the Stag Throne, and I'll aid you if I can. Yet if we do not part," Myrjala said softly, "you will have won nothing alone, and that you must do."
Silence hung heavily over the fire for a long time before Elmara nodded reluctantly. Then she said slowly, "There is a secret I have kept from ye; I would not have it lying between us longer. If we are to go separate ways, it is wrong to keep the truth from thee."
She undid the ties of her gown and let it fall. Myrjala watched as Elmara, standing nude in the firelight, murmured the few words she'd held in her memory since that day in the tomb-and her body changed. Myrjala let fall hands that had risen to weave a swift spell if need be, and stared across the fire at the naked man.
"This is my true self," the hawk-nosed man said slowly. "I am Elminster, son of Elthryn… prince of Athalantar."
Myrjala regarded him soberly, her eyes very dark. "Why took you a woman's shape?"
"Mystra did this to me to hide me from magelords, for my likeness had become known to them… and, I think, to force me to learn to see the world through a woman's eyes. When I tended ye, ye came to know me as a maid… I feared that seeking my true form would upset thee and smash the trust between us."
Myrjala nodded. "I have come to love you," she said quietly, "but this-changes things."
"I love ye, too," Elminster said. "It is one of the reasons I… stayed a maid. I did not want to change what we share."
She came around the fire then, and embraced him. "Elminster-or Elmara, or whoever you are-come and eat, one last time. Nothing can change the good work we've done together."
*****
It was dark, and the fire had died down low. Myrjala was a shadow across the flames as she turned her head and asked quietly, "Where will you go?"
Elminster shrugged. "I know not… west to see the Calishar, mayhap."
"The Calishar? Take care, Elminster-" her voice caught on the unfamiliar name, forming it with difficulty "-for Ilhundyl the Mad Mage holds sway there."
"I know. It's why I'll go. There's a score I must settle there. I can't go through life leaving everything unfinished."
"Many do."
"I am not many, and I cannot." He stared into the fire for a long time. "I will miss ye, Lady… take care."
"Gods keep you safe, too, Elminster." Then they both dissolved in tears and reached for each other.
When they parted, the next morn, both of them were weeping.
*****
Ilhundyl let the lions into the maze when he saw the intruder-but they froze in midsnarl as the intruder's spells caught them. The hawk-nosed mage who'd paralyzed the beasts strode on without even slowing, finding his way unerringly through the illusory walls and around portal-traps to stalk across the terrace before the Great Gate, toward the hidden door. Ilhundyl's lips thinned, and he spoke words he never thought he'd have to use.
Stone statues turned, creaking. Clouds of dust fell from their joints as lightings leapt from their palms. The blue bolts leapt at the hawk-nosed man, who ignored them. The lightnings struck something unseen around the walking man and encircled it, crackling harmlessly.
One of Ilhundyl's long-fingered hands tapped the table before him. Then he raised