The Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood [146]
"So who are they?" Craer hissed. Embra and Sarasper shrugged in unison.
The Four stared up at the scene floating above them and saw the Koglaur striding through the Silent House to the room that held the hacked and scarred Throne of Silvertree. He set the Stone of War upon its seat, murmured something over it, and then slipped out a hitherto-secret door, leaving the Dwaer sitting there.
Sarasper cleared his throat. "We must get it at onc-"
The air beside the throne shimmered and became a smiling Ingryl Ambelter, with a crown of Silvertree on his head. The wizard extended a finger, and lightnings briefly played between it and the Stone. When they died away, he shook his head and scooped up the Stone. "You Watchers are fools," he told the empty room scornfully, and vanished back into swiftly dying shimmerings.
With that the scrying-scene collapsed, leaving the Four blinking up at the ceiling of their room at the inn.
"Where's he gone?" Sarasper asked sharply.
Embra closed her eyes, and the Stone in her hands glowed once. When she opened them again, it was to reply calmly, "He's in Castle Silvertree."
Craer caught at her arm. "The Stone can trace folk? Why, we-"
Embra shook her head. "No, I called on the Stone to power my own perceptions. They trained me to be the 'Living Castle' of Silvertree; I can feel things through its very stones, and influence-in, I fear, too small ways-how the castle itself behaves." She sighed and sank back down into the tub until the waters touched her chin.
"Hand me a bottle, one of you, and then get dressed and packed," she announced wearily. "If we don't finish yon mage now, he'll finish us later this night, when sleep takes us."
Three men scrambled grimly to do her bidding. When the evening wine server rang his gong outside the locked door and then used his passkey to let himself in for the collection of empty wine flasks and to serve the bedtime hot nut-cider, he was astonished to find the palatial rooms empty except for a tub of cold water, a forest of empty wine bottles, and a scattering of gold coins across the unused beds.
The Band of Four were suddenly standing in a chamber Craer and Hawkril had seen before-a room hung with many gowns. Through gauzy curtains they could see warm, moving glows in the next room. A trio of glass lamps made to resemble floral blossoms were floating there about the shoulders of a man sitting at a table studying an open book.
"Ingryl Ambelter is my father's Spellmaster," Embra breathed in their ears. "He just might be the most powerful wizard in all Aglirta. Keep very quiet."
"What's he doing here?" Craer whispered back.
"I always had the best lighting," Embra said, as they watched the lamps drift. "Prettying myself, you know." She touched her companions, drew their heads together, and added, "Make ready, now. The moment he starts hurling spells, I want all of you touching me-at all times. It's the only way I can call on the Stone to protect you."
And she raised her hands and brought into being a bolt of lightning, following it an instant later by another. As their flaring birth made Ingryl's head jerk up, Craer threw a dagger at the wizard's face, as hard and as fast as he knew how.
Ingryl waved two fingers in greeting, smiling a wintry smile-and both the bolts and the dagger struck an unseen spellshield. The lightnings crackled right back at the Four, and Embra shouted, "Remember-hold to me!"
The snarling bolts struck, crashed blindingly around the Four, and swirled away again, leaving behind only numb tinglings. They saw the Spellmaster smile more broadly as a spell left his nimble fingers.
The air grew shadowy, half-seen fangs, mouths that gaped and snapped. Craer ducked away from one and caught back hold of Embra's sleeve just in time, as she shouted warningly and the jaws swept down on the procurer, passing through each other in their haste to savage him.
Embra waved an arm and the half-seen fangs were gone, swept away in a sudden wash of white radiance that scattered