Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [83]
“Are you trained to fight with a shield?”
“Aye, though I prefer to leave my left hand free.”
“You might prefer it to hold this.” The Protector withdrew an oval shield etched with white stars along its border. “This is a mageshield, designed to protect its user from death magic. Necromantic spells that hit this shield will bounce back at their caster.” His expression darkened, his gaze clouding with memories he alone could see. “‘Tis no less than those cult sorcerers deserve.” Corran accepted the gift and bowed low, looking as humble as Kestrel had ever seen him.
Silverblade collected himself and turned to the others. “Ghleanna Stormlake.” The half-elf walked to stand before the baelnorn. “Is that a magical staff you carry?”
“No, Protector.”
“This is.” He produced a six-foot wooden staff covered with ornate symbols and runes, most of them resembling flames and bolts of energy. “A spellstaff. Solid as oak, light as balsa. Use it as you would an ordinary quarterstaff. But should anyone send fire or lightning your way, the staff will absorb it. Tap it twice to release the energy at a target of your choosing.”
Ghleanna’s eyes shone with gratitude. “I have suffered terrible burns from fire magic these past days. I thank you, Protector.”
More gifts followed: bracers of protection from paralysis for Faeril, a ring of regeneration for Jarial, a trio of bronze-tipped arrows for Durwyn.
“Finally you, Kestrel.” Tremors raced up Kestrel’s arm as the Protector lifted her right hand. The silver ring she’d inherited from Athan’s band caught the light. “Do you know what this is you wear?”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing special-looking about it. I thought it was an ordinary silver ring.”
“On the contrary. You wear a mantle ring, a piece of magical jewelry crafted in the glory days of Myth Drannor. No doubt your ring earned its battered appearance from centuries of owners who engaged in dangerous missions like yours. The carvings have been worn until they look like mere scratches, but its power remains strong. This ring will shield you from injurious sorcerers’ spells.”
Kestrel thought of the magical hits she’d taken from the cultists and drow. “But it hasn’t protected me from anything.”
“Mantle rings must be worn in pairs. Its mate is probably lost to time.” He opened his hand to reveal another silver band of the same size. This one had a smooth surface engraved with tiny runes. “Wear this ring on your left hand, and a dozen spells will wash over you harmlessly.”
He dropped the ring in her palm. She stared at it, her intrinsic distrust of magic making her reluctant to put it on. Would she feel different? Would it have some other, unknown effect on her? She met the Protector’s gaze and, at his commanding nod, slipped the ring on her finger. Nothing dramatic happened. In fact, within moments she scarcely noticed its presence.
“Now go,” the baelnorn said, meeting each pair of eyes one by one. His face held a look of desperation. “Save the Mythal. For if Mordrayn and the cult use it for the great evil they intend, the City of Song can never be redeemed.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Back again, are you?” Harldain Ironbar greeted them as they entered his tower. “Did you find the old Protector?”
“We did indeed,” said Corran. “Now we’ve another favor to ask.”
“Name it.”
Corran told the old dwarf about the sapphire’s destruction at the baelnorn’s hands and their need for a new stone. Harldain stroked his beard. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “Centuries ago, when we mined for the sapphire, Caalenfaire advised me to secure three gems. He said we would need more than one to ensure the Mythal’s survival. At the time, I thought he wanted some backups in case somethin’ went wrong during the incantation