Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [137]
In the kitchen of that farmhouse in Shadowdale, time passed in slow silence. Storm's eyes fluttered and then closed, and her head sank lower. Careful, quiet hands moved her mug out of harm's way. The bard did not notice.
Jhessail and Lhaeo put their arms around each other and sat in companionable silence. Slowly, before their eyes, it happened. Still smiling, Storm Silverhand laid her head on her hands and slept.
* * * * *
"Draw thy daggers," Elminster said gruffly. "Ye seem to feel better when ye have some piece of sharp steel in hand. And my first thoughts, as always," he added, irony heavy in his tone, "are for thy comfort, ye three."
The Old Mage watched steel flash out in answer, then nodded, turned, and said, "Follow."
He stepped onto the rune and was gone. Sharantyr sighed, hefted the knife-what good would this little fang do?-in her hand, and followed.
Abruptly she was elsewhere. Behind her, she heard Itharr exclaim in surprise.
All around them was darkness-a deep, chiming void of blackness lit only by faintly glowing purple mists and by drifting, winking lights. The mist curled lazily about, and there was no horizon or boundary or anything solid to be seen, only endless darkness. They stood on nothing, hanging in emptiness.
"Old Mage," Sharantyr asked fearfully, "what is this place?"
A little way distant stood Elminster. He had grown somehow taller and stood outlined with a blue-white aura.
He turned and smiled at them reassuringly. "This is called by some the Flame Void. It is a strange place, not quite out of the Realms yet not in Faerun-at least, not in the Faerun that most folk can see and reach. Take a good look about at all this nothing. 'Tis probably the only time ye'll ever see it." He looked past her at the two Harpers, nodded reassurance to them, and said to them all, "Come."
Then he turned and walked confidently away, treading on nothing.
"Where are we going?" the lady ranger said, hurrying to catch up with the Old Mage. Though she still felt nothing under her boots, and a sharp, falling feeling seemed alive in her stomach, she could move merely by thinking of moving in a direction.
"To a place I know," Elminster said, "where Lady Mystra often leaves messages, or things, for me. It is my hope that she can feel my arrival and respond."
"Oh," Sharantyr replied, not much enlightened and showing it in her tone. Elminster said no more, and she fell into step beside him. The two Harpers caught up to flank them, and all four went on together.
They walked for a long time, and Sharantyr began to notice things around them that had escaped her before. Flitting shadows swirled half-seen in the mists, like living things-they probably were alive, she realized with a faint, crawling fear-and weird lights danced and glimmered in the distance.
She exchanged glances with the two young men who strode with them, and saw in their eyes the same fear and wonder that she knew shone in her own. "Elminster," Belkram asked after a while, "is your magic back?"
The Old Mage simply looked at him in reply. Belkram frowned. "Then how is it you brought us all here?"
Elminster shrugged. "The rune held the power; it is a gate. I merely selected its destination by bending my will to the choice." He looked around at them all. "An exercise all of ye would benefit greatly from: thinking hard about what ye're doing, from time to time. A novel idea, I'll admit."
The Harpers sighed almost as loudly as Sharantyr did. Then Itharr asked, "How does one find anything here? You seem to know where you're going, but I can't see any trace of our passage, or landmarks to guide you."
Elminster nodded and grinned. "No, ye can't, can ye?" was all he said.
They walked on until a glowing yellow light could be seen in the distance ahead. It seemed brighter than the other lights and gradually grew larger.
They approached it at a steady pace until they could see that it was a translucent sphere of soft, golden light with something inside it. The mists