Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [96]
The Blades drew aside in wary surprise. The many-hued lights that had cloaked Gralkyn emptied themselves from the doorway in a steady stream, drifting along the passage and out into the open center of the chamber, heading for their sorceress.
"Elmara-beware!" Tarthe called, his voice hoarse and cracked.
Elmara cast a look at him, saw the lights, and stared hard at them for a moment. Then she waved a dismissive hand and turned back to the floating book.
Across the chamber, the trapped beholder threw itself helplessly against the wall again and again, the wet thuds of its impacts marking a steady beat as Elmara bent to peer at the pages.
As her fingers touched the book, the moving lights suddenly rushed forward with a loud sigh. Elmara stiffened as they enveloped her.
The Blades saw the book drift out of her motionless hands and close smoothly. A band of shining metal crawled out of one end of the binding, darted smoothly around the tome, and tightened. There was a flash of light, and the book was bound shut.
The lights around the floating sorceress began to wink out, one by one, until they were all gone. Elmara shook herself, floating in midair, and smiled. She looked fresh, happy, and free of pain as she ran her finger along the metal band, tracing a runic inscription it bore. The Blades heard her gasp excitedly, "This is it! This is it! At last!"
The mage bound the book to her stomach with the length of climbing-cord she wore wound around her waist and retrieved what weapons she could find before she flew back to the balcony. Her companions eyed her with awe and new respect for a long moment before they stepped forward to reclaim their blades and embrace her sweat-soaked body in rough thanks.
"I hope it's worth all this," Dlartarnan said shortly, eyeing the tome and hefting the familiar weight of his sword. Then he turned away in disgust, striding back down the passage they'd taken to reach the chamber of balconies. "I hope this place holds something I can value as highly-a handful of gems, perhaps, or-"
His voice trailed away, and he lowered his sword in confusion. The room on the other side of the doorway now was not the dark room where they'd first found the lights, but a larger, brighter chamber they'd never seen before.
"More wizard tricks!" he snarled, whirling. "What do we do now?"
Tarthe shrugged. "Seek another balcony, perhaps. Ithym, look into yon room first-without putting yourself or anything else across the threshold-and tell us what you see."
The thief peered for long breaths, and then shrugged. "A tomb, I think it. That long block, there, is a stone casket, or I'm a dragon. There're at least two other doors I can see-and windows behind those screens… they must be: the light changes, like cloud-drifted sunlight, not like conjured light."
They stared at the oval silhouette-screens, and the draperies behind them, glowing, backlit. The room was still and empty of life or adornments. Waiting.
"Ondil's tomb," Tharp said in tones of slow doom.
"Aye, but a way out, if all else fails," Tarthe replied, voice calm, eyes darting all round. His gaze fell on Elmara, standing silent in their midst, and he shook his head slightly in disbelief. He'd seen it all happen, but he still wasn't sure he believed it. Perhaps some of those ridiculous tavern-tales old adventurers loved to tell were true, after all…
"Let's try to get to another balcony," Gralkyn suggested. "I can reach at least four of them-more if El flies a rope to their rails."
"Aye, we must get out of here, now," Ithym said, "or no one at the inn will ever hear about our wizard destroying a beholder, a mind flayer, and a dragon-just to get something to read!"
As Gralkyn swung over the rail and dropped lightly onto the balcony below, the laughter from above him was a little wild.
Eleven
A BLUE FLAME
The most awesome thing a wizard can hope to see