Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [28]
Elminster nodded. "Ye shall have them, after we put another twenty breaths or so of travel behind us. I want no blades following us."
Sharantyr whispered back simply, "Lead on," and he did.
* * * * *
They crossed a small stream and another, babbling rivulets snaking amid the stones and winking back starlight beneath their feet. Elminster stopped finally, in a shadowed spot where they could sit on rocks and look out over a moonlit expanse of rock and scrub below, before the dark wall of the trees began.
"Ask, then," he bid her simply, passing his belt flask over.
Sharantyr wet her lips with its water. "The wand?"
"Most Myth Drannan wands can be speech-set."
Sharantyr chuckled softly and waited.
So did he, of course. She rolled her eyes. "Explain," she ordered flatly.
Elminster grinned in the darkness and said, "Unlike wands made today, ye can cause that wand of mine to unleash its magic by itself, with no hand upon it and no word spoken. Ye're familiar with the spell called 'magic mouth' by most? Aye, like that. When the conditions ye speak are met, the wand fires. I recalled that I'd never set that one-ye can only do it once-so I set it to discharge when someone in robes, or carrying a staff or wand, comes through the gate into the dale."
"Into-Ah, that's why the 'keep low' warning for Harpers. A nasty trap." Her last words had an edge to them.
Elminster looked at her closely. "Are ye all right, lass?"
Sharantyr shook her head angrily. "I'm just-Slaying Zhents is one thing, but killing people I have no quarrel with, and whose faces I haven't even seen, just doesn't sit well with me, that's all."
Elminster put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I've dragged ye into all this," he said quietly.
After a long, silent moment she put strong fingers over his and said as softly, "Don't be."
They sat together, silent and unmoving, for a long time.
After awhile, Elminster looked up at the stars, chuckled, and asked, "Can I have my hand back now, Shar?"
Sharantyr patted it and let it go. "I've another question, Old Mage."
" 'Elminster,' please. 'El,' if ye prefer. Ask."
"Aren't you worried about all those mages the guard told us about? Will they not find you by magic?"
"Nay, they can't find me. Those who bear Mystra's burden can't be put to sleep, held immobile, or commanded by magic that strikes at the mind. To all magic that searches, spies, or tries to control, we are simply not there."
"I thought thy amulet-the greenstone amulet like
Storm wears-did that."
Elminster grinned. "I wear it to conceal those powers of the burden. Besides, if I wear it, I have it to give to a traveling companion in need of it. If I'd been wise enough to be wearing it when I went walking, I'd give it ye now."
Sharantyr's eyes were dark again. "Without it, how can I avoid being found by these prying magics?"
"Ah, yes." Elminster grinned and put a bony arm around her shoulders. "Now that's why these stars find ye and I hurrying about in the dark." He rose and tugged at her hand. "Come on," he said briefly, and she got up and went with him into the night.
* * * * *
"Nothing, sir," the ranking swordsman said, torchlight gleaming on his black armor.
"Do you mean," Mrinden said in a voice thick with incredulous rage, "that someone came through the gate, slew the watchman, and disappeared, all in the time it took us to get up the hill from the barracks? How stupid d'you think I am?"
"There's no trace of them, sir," the senior Sword replied stolidly. "They're either deep in the woods or are past us into the open dale already. Or they went back through that." He inclined his head toward the flickering gate. "You've seen the blood, sir."
Mrinden turned to Kalassyn. "Well?"
Kalassyn drew his fellow wizard into a face-to-face huddle and spoke in low tones. "If they're past us, we'll never find them. It's either a personal affair-a man, maybe even one of ours,