The Temptation of Elminster - Ed Greenwood [153]
Her voice was a brisk goad once more, but somehow Rauntlavon found himself almost grinning as he strode away to the end of the room and announced, "Inspection resumes, Great Lady…and sharing begins!"
His master laughed aloud, and after a moment Rauntlavon heard a low, thrilling murmur that must have been the ladylord chuckling.
She used the lash of her voice on Iyriklaunavan next, breaking off in mid-chuckle to snap, "Enough time wasted, mage. You frighten me up from my table with a map half drawn and my soup growing cold, then go all coy about why. What's so 'serious' that your apprentice must hear about it alongside me? Do you think you can get around to telling me about this oh-so-serious matter before, say, nightfall!"
"I meant it when I said this was serious, Nessa," Rauntlavon's master said quietly. "Put the edge of your tongue away for a moment and listen. Please."
He paused then, and…wonders! Rauntlavon even turned around to see, earning him an almost amused glance from the Great Lady…the Ladylord Nuressa gave him silence, waiting to hear him speak.
Iyriklaunavan blinked, seeming himself surprised, then said swiftly, "You know that magic…all magic not bolstered by draining a few sorts of enchanted items… is going wrong. Spells twisting to all sorts of results, untrustworthy and dangerous. Some mages are hiding in their towers, unable to defend themselves against anyone who might try to settle grudges. Magic has gone wild. If fewer folk knew about it, I'd say that this should be our secret…Rauntlavon's and mine own…for you to keep, or else. It will come as no surprise to you that many mages have been trying to find out why this darkness has befallen. I am one of them."
"And that's even less of a surprise," the Lady Nuressa said quietly. Rauntlavon's head snapped around to regard her somber face. He'd never heard her speak so gently before. She sounded almost… tender.
"I have no items to waste in bolstering my spells," Iyriklaunavan continued, "so the boy…Rauntlavon…has been my bulwark, using his spells to steady mine. Word has even come to us that some wizards…and even priests of the faiths of the Weave…believe divine Mystra and Azuth themselves have been corrupting magic deliberately, for some purpose mortals cannot even hazard."
"You worship our gods of magecraft?"
"Nessa," Iyriklaunavan said calmly, "I don't even have a bedchamber closet to keep my secrets in. I'm trying to hurry this, really I am just listen."
Nuressa leaned back against one of the lamp-girt pillars that held up the ceiling of the spell chamber, and gestured for the elf mage to continue. She didn't even look irritated.
"Just now we were seeking but had not yet called up a place in our scrying, the enchantment being just complete," Iyriklaunavan continued, "when I felt one thing, and saw another. I think everyone in Faerun who was attempting a scrying at the time felt what I did: the willful, reckless release of many wizards' staves at once, in one place, all directed at the same target."
"You mean mages everywhere feel it, whenever one wizard blasts another?" Nuressa's voice was incredulous. "No wonder you're all so difficult."
"No, we do not normally feel such things…nor have the violence of feeling anything strike us so hard that our own spells collapse into wildfire," Rauntlavon's master told her. "The reason we did this time was the target of this unleashing: the High One. I saw him, standing at the bottom of a shaft with three mortal mages, while magic seeking to destroy him rained down…and his attention was elsewhere."
"Azuth? Who was crazed enough to use magic to try to blast down a god of magic?" The ladylord looked surprised.