The Wizardwar - Elaine Cunningham [69]
Rhodea gasped in astonishment The sudden intake of foul air sent her into a paroxysm of coughing. The dwarves on the scaffolding were harder hit, coughing violently and teetering on their perch like drunkards. One of them lost his grip and fell into the molten ore with a terrible scream.
Bright droplets of liquid metal splattered the dragon.
Pain jolted the creature free from the protective spells. It began to roar and struggle. Its tail lashed, knocking the supports from under the vat.
The vast kettle tipped, sending a killing river of silver spilling slowly over thе wooden flo or. Wooden scaffolding burst into flame, and fire darted up the tapestries that softened the stone walls. In less than a heartbeat, the promise of wealth was transmuted into a death threat. Rhodea reached for her Elder's ring, which would transport her immediately to the safety of Zalathorm's court.
Frantically she sought her daughter.
Thalia stood too near the silvery lava. Rhodea would never reach her in time.
The wizard tore the ring from her hand and poured all her considerable strength into the family battle cry. Thalia spun toward the sound and instinctively caught the ring her mother hurled toward her.
Rhodea Firehair watched her daughter fade from the room, then turned to face the white wave of heat that preceded the killing flood. A warrior died with weapon in hand. Rhodea drew her sword and strode toward the light.
*****
Word of the mint's destruction spread quickly, nearly as quickly as the molten ore and the fire that swept its wake.
Procopio Septus read the report again, muttering under his breath about incompetent fools, but in truth, he didn't understand how this thing could have come to pass.
Many of Halruaa's mages frowned upon the use of dragons in the smelting process. The creatures were as tame as dragons would ever be, hand-raised from hatchlings and warded with powerful protective spells.
"A visitor, Lord Procopio."
The wizard looked up, frowning. "I am not at leisure," he told his steward.
"He tells a most interesting tale," the man persisted. "He claims to have fought his way out of the Unseelie realm."
Procopio's jaw fell open. He knew of Dhamari Exchelsor's disappearance.
He knew also that the wards on the wizard's tower had been breached. The militia had searched and found no one, but there was clear evidence of theft. The magical wards had not yet been examined to determine the identity of this thiefthe Lord Mayor had higher priorities. It had not occurred to him that Dhamari himself might be the "thief."
He quickly mastered his surprise. "Let him come. I am in need of a bit of diversion."
The steward showed in a small, slight man. Procopio knew him only by sight and had always considered him an unassuming little man, hardly worth the time and trouble under ordinary circumstances.
Procopio exchanged the courtesies that protocol demanded. Even a great wizard was required to acknowledge lesser men, and Procopio was politically astute enough to court all men to some degree. Even a mediocre wizard could be a supporter, and at this pivotal moment Procopio needed every man and woman he could muster.
He smiled at the little man with a cordiality he did not feel. "I hear you have an interesting tale."
"Yes," Dhamari said dryly. "Your steward seemed to find it amusing. I don't suspect your credulity will stretch much farther. Be that as it may. I haven't come to discuss such things. I can tell you about the death of Rhodea Firehair, the selfdeclared champion of our current king."
Though the little wizard was being far from subtle, Procopio ignored the treasonous remarks. He steepled his fingers and gazed mildly over them at his visitor. "I have heard reports of the fire."
"Would you like to hear precisely what happened?"
"Please."
"Those who examined the ruins of the mint saw only the charred bones of a young dragon," Dhamari said without preamble. "It did not occur to them to inquire what color the dead dragon might have been."