The Wizardwar - Elaine Cunningham [90]
"The Shadow Weave," he said. "It does exist! And I can sense it, even use it!"
He seized the girl's shoulders and turned her to face him. "Shortly before I left the Jordaini College, we received word of a new sort of magic sifting into the Northlands, perhaps even into Halruaa. It is said that the goddess Shar created another source of magic, one that has nothing to do with Mystra. Sages suspect that she experimented in isolated lands, perhaps in other planes of existence.
This place of mist and shadows may be one such realm!"
Tzigone looked skeptical. "Fairies have their own gods. Didn't they have anything to say about this? They just stood by and let this Shar set up housekeeping?"
"This is not the Unseelie Court," he explained, "but a corridor between their world and ours. Nothing is real here. I suspect that the dark fairies have no power to hold us-perhaps they are protecting their own borders, as we do ours!
Illusion is all-powerful here. It may be that people who stumble in are trapped simply because they believe they can't leave."
She frowned as she tried to sort all this through. "So you're telling me that you're some sort of wizard, after all."
"No! Well, perhaps," he amended. "The jordaini are vessels empty of Mystra's Art. It is possible that this void makes us uniquely suited to the Shadow Weave."
Tzigone shrugged. "You're usually right. What interests me most at the moment is the notion that we could leave any time. Now would be good for me."
A faint glow dawned in the nearby mists as another gate took shape. The faint keening of fairy song surged in alarm, and small black streaks hurtled toward them.
Matteo put two fingers to his lips and blew a sharp, shrill whistle.
The clatter of hooves announced Cyric's return a moment before the black stallion leaped from the mist and charged the attacking fairies. The illusionary stallion proved fully as evil-tempered and loyal as the original. Cyric plunged into the advancing horde, screaming with equine rage. The horse reared up, lashing out with his hooves.
"Iron horseshoes," Matteo murmured with satisfaction as he drew dagger and sword. "You can cast spells here-magic of many sorts is present. Transmute these to iron."
Tzigone raced through the words of a spell. The weapons grew heavier, and their shining metal turned as dull as the mist.
"Well done," he said as he handed her the iron dagger.
"Cyric and me," Tzigone said, holding up two entwined fingers.
Several dark shapes outflanked the stallion and sped toward them.
Tzigone dropped into a knife-fighter's crouch and slashed out. For a moment a dark fairy female stood revealed, stunned into immobility by the unexpected presence of an iron weapon. Then Tzigone lofted the dagger and pressed the attack. Though slowed and weakened by the poisonous metal, the fairy still possessed the speed and agility of any swordmaster. The grimy little sorceress and the small, fey being circled and slashed, one determined to reach the portal and the other equally set upon barring the way.
Matteo fell into guard position, scything a path with his iron sword. He and Tzigone backed slowly toward the glowing portal. Finally Tzigone threw the dagger at the nearest foe and gave Matteo an ungentle shove.
They turned and ran the last steps to the magical portal. Together they leaped through, landing on ground that felt blissfully solid and hard.
He picked himself up and looked for Tzigone. Basel had already swept her up into a crushing embrace.
Andris came over to Matteo's side. "It is said that those who enter the Unseelie court come out being what they truly are," he said softly. "What did you see? What did you learn?"
Matteo's gaze swept the Nath, searching for some sign of the Shadow Weave. He did not see its magic as he had in the Unseelie corridor. Not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved, he shrugged. "I am simply a jordain, nothing more."
The girl