Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [139]
And then Mystra reached out a hand that glowed with power and touched each of them fleetingly.
The touch was like a leaping spark that left a tingling and an exhilarating feeling of lightness, strength, and alertness. Wonderingly, the three looked at each other and saw that their eyes glowed faintly, blue-white.
A head came up out of the hole by their feet-a familiar, bearded head. It was followed by the rest of the Old Mage's body, as the wizard climbed the last steps of the stair to join them.
Mystra smiled fondly at him, reached out a slim hand to caress his cheek, and whispered, "As usual, my thanks, Elminster. We'll meet again… soon. Beware wild magic. I go now, to face Bane."
In a flare of blue-white flames, she was gone.
The silence that followed was broken by Sharantyr, who drew a shuddering breath and said faintly, "What now, El?"
Elminster threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly. "Ah, Shar, ever that question, eh? I cannot see. Mystra remains a prisoner of another god-Manshoon's god, Bane-and is not free to use the power I returned to her. There's another who must free her… I cannot safely act, for if I fall to Bane and he learns, through the power and knowledge that are still mine, who and where the rest of the Chosen are, he could still wrest Mystra's power from her and have governance over all Art-or lose such order, for all of us, in his destruction of Mystra."
The Old Mage looked at the two Harpers and asked almost challengingly, "Excitement enough for ye, lads? Adventure enough?"
Itharr and Belkram shook their heads and chuckled rather faintly.
Elminster stood still, his face buried in Sharantyr's hair, and said roughly, "Ah, Shar-I have grown to care for thee very much in these few days since ye took out thy sword to guard me. Whatever befalls now, when we find our way back to the Realms ye know-stay with me, will ye?"
Sharantyr kissed him and said softly, "Of course. I can't guard you if I don't, now can I?"
Belkram tapped her shoulder. "Ah, if you're in a kissing mood…"
Sharantyr wrinkled her nose and thrust a strong arm around Elminster, straight into the Harper's midriff.
He doubled over with a comical roll of his still-glowing blue eyes and staggered back, colliding with the low battlement. He overbalanced with a startled cry and fell backward off the tower.
Sharantyr screamed.
Elminster turned in her grasp and made a lazy gesture.
In the air below them, a huge phantom hand appeared beneath the falling Harper.
He fell into it as softly as a feather kisses the ground it falls onto and was borne gently upward, cradled in the giant hand, to rejoin them. Belkram stood up on the palm of the hand as it came, tottering about uncertainly like a man on stilts hopping about in a cesspool and likely at any moment to come to a far closer acquaintance with it. His efforts and expression made Itharr bellow with laughter.
Sharantyr turned to embrace Elminster again. She was ecstatic. "Your Art-it's back! You can work magic again!"
"Aye" the Old Mage said with a sigh that could not quite conceal his grin. "That, d'ye see, is old Elminster's doom."
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