Silver Shadows - Elaine Cunningham [100]
Yet Zoastria she could-and must-confront.
"How is it done?" Arilyn asked.
"The same way you called me forth. But the power of the sword is diminished when you call forth the others. You will be at risk in ways to which you are not accustomed."
Arilyn accepted this with a nod, and then once again lifted the sword. "Come forth, you who were once Zoastria," she said in a firm voice.
Again mist rose from the ancient blade, and as the elven form took shape Arilyn's heart seemed to turn to stone in her chest. This was the very form she had seen in the treasure chamber-the slumbering ancestor who haunted her dreams.
But oddly enough, the shadow of Zoastria did not appear to be nearly as solid as Arilyn's double. She was ghostly, insubstantial-not at all the heroic figure needed to lead the elves to victory.
"What do you want of me, half-elf, and how is it that you command the sword of Zoastria?" the elfshadow demanded in a tone of voice that Arilyn knew all too well. She had not expected to confront such scorn from her own ancestor, nor would she yield to it.
Arilyn squared her shoulders and faced down the misty image. "You are Zoastria, who bore the sword before me. Are you also the moon fighter known as Soora Thea?"
"Once. Thus did the forest folk say my name, for the language of Evermeet was beyond their grasp."
"You are needed again," Arilyn said softly. "Their descendants need the return of their hero."
But the image of Zoastria shook her head. "You know so little of the sword you carry. I cannot; I can only appear as you see me. Of all the sword's powers, the ability to call forth the elfshadow essence is the weakest. You should know that, to your sorrow," she added sharply.
Arilyn's cheeks burned, but she did not respond. For as long as she drew breath, she would grieve for the evil use made of her elfshadow by her former mentor and friend. The gold elf Kymil Nimesin had wrested control of the elfshadow from the sword and turned it-and therefore, Arilyn-onto an assassin's path.
"Why not? Why are you different from the others?" the half-elf demanded.
"Because unlike most of the moon fighters, I did not die," Zoastria said. "It is possible to pass on the sword to a blade heir without tasting death. This is not a choice lightly made, but I made a pledge to return and this is how it is honored. There are others who have done this. Doubtless, you have heard legends."
The half-elf nodded. Stories of a sleeping hero who would return in a time of great need were told from the Moonshaes to Rashemen. And now she understood why all these stories had in common an ancient, mystic sword.
"But there is a way for me to honor my pledge," Zoastria continued. "Elfshadow and mistress must again become one. This cannot be while that which I once was sleeps in a rich man's vault. Unite the two, and I will be as alive as ever I was."
The half-elf nodded slowly. "Is this your wish?"
"What question is this? Better to ask, is this my duty? If there is no other way, then call me forth. I will come."
And with that, the ghostly image dissipated and flowed into the sword. Arilyn's own shadow disappeared with it.
Arilyn slid the moonblade back into its sheath and considered what she had learned. To retrieve the slumbering Zoastria would be no easy task and was not one she could attempt anytime soon. As her ancestor advised, she must try to find another way.
Hasheth left his horse at the public stables and set off down the docks of Port Kir on foot. The dock area was not the safest place to be, not even during daylight, but Hasheth walked alone with his confidence utterly intact. Had he not spent time among the assassins of Zazesspur? Though his apprenticeship might have been brief and ill-fated, he had learned enough to be awarded his sand-hue