The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [73]
Mizzen understood his mistake as soon as the words were spoken. In speaking too freely, he had outlived his usefulness. His eyes grew enormous with fear, then glazed over in acceptance of death.
The elf obliged him.
On the way out, Elaith tossed aside a gilded mirror-the only ornament on the carved and polished wood of the walls. The hidden door beneath was almost laughably obvious to his keen elven vision. He ran his fingers lightly over the carvings, found and released the clasp.
Inside the safe was a pile of gems-real gems, entrusted to Mizzen to be matched with crystals. Elaith emptied the safe's contents into his bag and slipped out the back door into the streets. It would be an easy task, finding a caravan of flying creatures. All that remained was for him to find them, and the Mhaorkiira Hadryad, and then settle with Bronwyn and her dwarven ally.
As Elaith suspected, Silverymoon was abuzz with word of the strange caravan, but to his dismay, his side trip through the forest had cost him. The caravan had already left the city on fresh mounts.
The determined elf sought out the stables where the caravan had taken a brief rest. A pair of elven grooms clad in Gundwynd livery tended the hooves and hides and wings of the weary pegasi.
Elaith's hand went to his sword, and then he thought better of it. These were gold elves, well armed and in good trim. Fighting them would take more time than he had to spare.
"I must have one of those horses," Elaith said flatly. "I will pay whatever you ask."
The elves looked him over, astonished at such a request from a fellow Tel'Quessar-even if he was a moon elf. "These are not mere horses," one of them pointed out. "Even if they were, they have traveled far and have earned a day's rest."
"It is important."
"What is so important that it could justify flying a tired pegasus?" the other groom inquired in a tone that marked the question as entirely rhetorical.
As it happened, Elaith had an answer. "The Mhaorkiira Hadryad," he said bluntly. "A human adventurer with Gundwynd's caravan has the dark kiira."
The elves stared at him with rounded eyes. "It has been found? But how? It has been lost for-what? Three centuries and more?"
Elaith folded his arms. "Would you like to discuss the missteps of elven history, or would you prefer that I fetch this stone back before it creates any more trouble?"
The grooms gave him no further argument. One of them packed travel supplies, the other put harness and saddle on the protesting steed and led it out into the courtyard.
Mounting the beast took more time than Elaith liked, for the pegasus reared and snorted and pitched each time he approached her.
"You have not trained with pegasi, have you?" asked one of the elves in an apologetic tone. "She senses that."
More likely, thought Elaith, the winged horse had senses even more finely attuned. He carried with him the scent of vengeance and death. Undoubtedly it was this that spooked the fey creature.
The grooms kept cajoling her. Finally the pegasus quieted long enough for Elaith to climb onto her back. Immediately the enormous white wings unfurled, and the pegasus leaped into the air.
The elf clung to his seat as the pegasus rose in dipping, swooping loops. She tested him, responding too sharply to the reins, careening from one side to another, but Elaith was nothing if not determined, and he clung to her like scales to a snake. Eventually the winged horse seemed to sense, and then to absorb, her rider's urgency. When Elaith gave the pegasus her head, she set a steady, determined course for Waterdeep.
Beneath them the miles fell away as swiftly as autumn leaves before a strong wind. The day grew old, and soon Elaith had to shield his eyes against the setting sun. Though the pegasus's white sides were lathered and heaving, Elaith urged her on, hoping to find before nightfall the clearing where the caravan had made camp on the first night of the trip to Silverymoon.
He saw the caravan before he saw the clearing. Silhouetted against the purple and gold of