Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [160]
Yet as the dark power of Lloth gathered and welled up within her, Liriel knew not triumph, but a deep and profound sense of loss.
Chapter 23
The powers of darkness
For almost two days Fyodor watched over Liriel as she lay in a deathlike slumber. He did not know what had befallen the drow but suspected she'd been overcome by the banshee they'd encountered before. He'd searched for hours, finally finding the print of Liriel's elven boots on the shore near lnthar and tracking her to the tower where the banshee held sway. He'd found the young drow inside, draped limply, like a discarded garment, over the wall of the fountain, and carried her back to Ulf's cottage. But what had prompted the drow to come alone to this fell place, Fyodor could not say.
He had left her side seldom, despite the urging of the shaman and the scolding of the man's formidable wife. Yes, there were other matters demanding the attention of Holgerstead's First Axe, but the young warrior knew where lay his first loyalty. He was pledged to protect the drow wychlaran; he was bound to her with a web woven from the combined magics of the Underdark and Rashemen. But underlying that was something deeper still. And so the joy that flooded his heart when at last Liriel stirred and woke was not, first and foremost, that of a knight for his sworn lady. The drow's lips formed a request; Fyodor reached for a cup of water and held her head while she drank. She struggled visibly to shake off the deadly lethargy, like a butterfly breaking free of an entangling cocoon. But her eyes, as she focused on her friend's concerned face, were clear and set with purpose.
"How long have i slept? When is moondark?"
Fyodor blinked, astonished anew by the drow's resilience. "i'Tomorrow night," he said absently. "i'Little raven, what happened to you?"
The drow brushed aside his questions and pulled herself to a sitting position. "The preparations for battle?"
"i'All is well. The ships are armed, the men ready." "i'Good. The attack will come tomorrow, probably at dusk. I cannot be with you, so you must take this."
Liriel took the Windwalker from beneath her mattress and pressed it into his hand. "i'Before… before you found me, i enspelled the amulet to hold power over your battle rages. Wear this, and command yourself."
"i'And you?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.
"i'i am needed elsewhere," she said softly. "Take me back to inthar, that i might summon the nereid again." Understanding and dread came to Fyodor in a quick, sweeping wave. "You cannot return to Ascarle after all you have endured! You are not ready!"
"You have no idea what i have endured, and for that you may thank the gods," she said with uncharacteristic fervor. "i'As to being ready or not, i doubt the battle will wait for me or any other. If you will not help me to inthar, i'll go alone." And so the pledged warrior called for food to be brought, and water for washing. He waited until Liriel had readied herself; then he supported her steps until she gained the strength to walk alone.
There were few horses on Ruathym, but as First Axe of Holgerstead, Fyodor could claim any animal in the village stables. He chose two swift mounts, and the companions made their way with all possible haste to inthar.
When they neared the ruins, Liriel dismounted and walked alone to the very edge of the steep cliff. A strong wind blew in from the sea, whipping her white hair and her glittering cloak behind her as she cupped her hands to her mouth and sent a long, high cry ringing out over the waves. Then she caught at the flying folds of her cape and wrapped them tightly around her. The drow turned back to Fyodor, and for a moment her golden eyes burned into his. Then she was gone.
Fyodor shook the reins sharply over his horse's neck and urged the skittish beast forward to pace along the very edge of the cliff. He could see no sign of Liriel's passing; she had vanished as completely as a forgotten dream. Yet as the young man's frustrated