The Simbul's gift - Lynn Abbey [148]
Lauzoril boldly cast a sphere of freedom and disenchantment on the running man. It wouldn't rid him of Gur's mark, but it would insure that he knew who he was taking with him when he died. The zulkir had a hunch that it wouldn't be Aglarond's witch-queen. Then, for his daughter, Lauzoril whispered the word that would transport him to Mythrell'aa's side. He was, perhaps, the last person Lady Illusion expected to see emerging from the Yuirwood shadows and she had never been the most quick-witted among the zulkirs. While her tattooed brow writhed in confusion, Lauzoril grabbed the bleak-faced mongrel with one hand and with the other delivered a bone-crushing punch to Mythrell'aa's sharp nose.
Magic spells had their place in Thay, but a well-made fist was still a man's best weapon in close quarters. Blood streamed down the zulkir's face as she crumpled to the ground. Freed from enchantment and whatever other compulsions Mythrell'aa kept about him, the marked man had stopped running. He stared at his arm-why, Lauzoril couldn't guess-then changed his course, running back the way he'd come, running toward him and Mythrell'aa as if his life-his death-depended on it.
Lauzoril wrapped both arms around the mongrel and broke the seal on a coward's retreat-a tiny enchanted artifact attached to his belt-that brought him, and the youth in his arm, back to his moss-covered stone horse just as the mark of Gur shook the ground.
*****
Alassra couldn't stop. She couldn't stop the tears. She couldn't stop the tumbling between here and there, then and now. She couldn't stop, because she didn't want to.
For one moment, Lailomun was coming toward her: the love of her life whom she believed was dead, whom she hoped had died more than a century ago. He'd been smiling as he ran toward her with the mark of Gur incandescent on his brow. Alassra knew that mark and its variations. She'd seen it glowing on countless Red Wizards in the moments before they destroyed themselves utterly. Since coming to Aglarond, the Simbul had carefully researched the various spells of Lusaka Gur and found ways to foil them. Wisely, she'd made those foils a thoughtless part of her defenses-if she'd had to think, if she'd had to act consciously to defend herself from Lailomun, Mythrell'aa would have had her victory.
But a spell had come out of nowhere-from Zandilar, perhaps, or the Yuirwood itself protecting the sacred Sunglade. It had fallen around Lailomun's shoulders, and he'd stopped running. He'd looked at her, all love and longing. He'd looked at his arm-why, Alassra couldn't guess. He'd said something; she'd seen his lips move, but the sound hadn't carried and she didn't know what his words had been. Then he'd turned and run back toward Mythrell'aa who'd collapsed-from shock or horror-before the mark of Gur consumed him.
The mark was a powerful spell as Lusaka Gur devised it, but Mythrell'aa had compounded its effect. The blast sphere was larger and more destructive; and when it touched the outer limit of the Simbul's habitual defenses it triggered the counterspells she'd researched long ago. The spells would have carried her back to Velprintalar, if she'd let them, but Alassra chose drifting, tumbling, wallowing between guilt and despair.
It wasn't easy for a wizard of the Simbul's experience to lose herself, but she tried and settled, eventually, in a place of gentle darkness.
"You have found me. You are welcome, but you cannot remain here."
The voice came from all directions. It was a sadly wise woman's voice, very much like Mystra's voice when the goddess first appeared to Alassra in the Outer Planes. The Simbul gathered her wits: her defenses and might. Her strength of mind and magic was the main reason Alassra Shentrantra could never lose herself. She hovered in the darkness and studied it. There was form around her, shifting veils of angular shadow surrounding a faint, but clear, light.
"Who are you?"
"Ask yourself."
Alassra locked her despair and grief in corner of her memory to which she might-or might not-return. She was in the presence of divine