Red Magic - Jean Rabe [2]
It was the nature of Red Wizards to second-guess their peers and ceaselessly protect their backs. The wizards frequently plotted against each other for pleasure, for personal gain, for retribution, or simply to hone their skills. This puerile behavior prevented most wizards from gaining sufficient power to rise above their brethren, and it also forestalled them from working together to expand Thay's boundaries.
Despite the magical inactivity at the young wizard's alcazar, Maligor realized that other Red Wizards in the city would be busy this night, no doubt brewing their own wicked plans to inflict pain and suffering on others for their own financial or personal reward. He fancied that none of their plots would be as devious or promising as his present scheme, for he held little respect for his colleagues. A smile gently tugged at the corner of Maligor's pale, cracked lips. None in Amruthar, none in Thay-indeed even no one else in his own tower-knew what he was up to.
He retreated from the window to the incense burner's bitter embrace. The smoke caressed his face and made his throat feel dry and his mouth taste sour. Still, Maligor enjoyed the druglike sensation, savoring it for long moments while his eyes watered from the thick vapors. Then abruptly he stiffened, detecting another familiar scent, one less pleasing-one that smelled like rotting flesh.
Stepping away from the burner, the wizard's gray, rheumy eyes peered into the shadows, probing intently until he discovered the source of the stench, then narrowing to thin slits to evidence his displeasure.
"What do you want, Asp?" Maligor's voice had a noticeable edge to it. "What catastrophe is unfolding? Surely something has gone amiss. Otherwise, you would not dare interrupt my meditation."
The wizard's tones were soft and raspy, though not by choice. Appearing elderly by human standards, perhaps sixty or seventy, Maligor was in fact more than two hundred years old. The viscous magical elixirs he concocted in his secret chambers in this tower and in his other numerous residences throughout Thay helped his frail form to stave off many of the effects of age. His voice, however, hadn't held up as well against the passage of time.
"My Lord Maligor, I'm sorry to intrude, but this truly is important." The feminine voice was sultry, caressing the stale air in the chamber like a summer breeze.
"Yes?" Maligor entreated, still peering into the darkness.
Asp's unblemished face rimmed with close-clipped sable hair edged out from the shadows. Her startling blue eyes, high cheekbones, and dainty lips the shade of ripe red yarberries, a poisonous fruit that grew abundantly in Thay, contrasted with the room's dismal atmosphere. Her long, slender neck, decorated with a delicate strand of black pearls, and her bare, white shoulders emerged from the inky blackness near the wall, but she came no closer.
"There is a spy in our midst," she whispered, studying Maligor's face for a reaction. "He's a slow-witted creature, but he could cause problems."
Maligor moved toward the woman, regarding her critically. "Go on," he rasped.
"He's a gnoll, one of the guards," she continued, her voice rising slightly in volume. "He hasn't been seen for several days now. He was sometimes stationed outside this very room. That means he could have heard us plotting, my lord. He could have knowledge of our schemes. He could be selling the information to another Red Wizard." She ran her finely manicured fingers through her short hair, pausing to compose herself before continuing.
"Perhaps he didn't think he'd be missed, Maligor. After all, you've been enlisting more and more gnolls into