Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [125]
Thorn seemed to understand this. Her face was softer than the drow had ever seen it, and the silver braid that hung over her shoulder gleamed with reflected moonlight.
And in the nearby shadows, beyond the loathsome circle of spiders, a young witch with a new-made staff watched and wondered.
News of Sylune's return did not long remain within the walls of village Dernovia. All across Faerыn there are those whose business it is to know of such wonders and portents, rumors and lies. Chief among them were the fey women known as the Seven Sisters.
Six silver-haired women gathered in a small cottage just outside the village of Shadowdale. Their host, a tall, athletic women with long-fingered hands seemingly fashioned to dance upon harp strings, unstoppered a bottle of new wine and poured it around.
"She's not here, I tell you," Storm Silverhand asserted. "Not at her cottage, not in mine. Not anywhere in Shadowdale."
The other women exchanged worried glances. "She" was of course their sister Sylune, who had died years before in a battle against dragons and their dragoncult followers. Sylune lingered about her old home in the form of a spectral harper-an intelligent ghost who, unlike most, remembered almost all of her life and had actually managed to put much of it into perspective. The possibility that Sylune was no longer present filled them with loss and also with hope.
"Perhaps the rumors hold truth," suggested the sister who appeared to be the oldest of them. Her face was gentle and careworn, but her silvery gown was suited for royalty Impatient energy crackled audibly around a tousled beauty in a wind-rent robe. "Be sensible, Alustriel. This so-called witch is an imposter and a dangerous one. Others will hear the rumors and come to investigate. Rashemen lies very close to Algorand's borders."
"No one doubts your ability to protect the lands you rule," Qiluй Veladorn said quietly.
The other women, with the exception of Laerel Silverhand, cooled visibly when the drow spoke. Qiluй was their sister but in a manner almost too fantastic to credit. She was a stranger to most of them, and not many years had passed since Laerel first ferreted out their ties.
"I must agree with the Queen of Algarond," the drow sister continued, addressing the stormy woman with formal respect. "In all honesty, I confess that I feel somewhat responsible for this misunderstanding."
She told them about Liriel and Fyodor and their determination to carry the Windwalker amulet back to the witches of Rashemen.
"I'm afraid that I might have mentioned that my sister Sylune studied among the witches. What else would Liriel assume from this, but that Sylune was a drow? And what better way for a drow to gain a foothold in Rashemen than to take Sylune's place?"
The other women groaned and nodded. Dove Silverhand, a well-muscled warrior in dark green leathers, spoke up. "She will be found out, of course. The important thing is to end this drow's charade before Sylune's enemies come calling on Rashemen. What I want to know is, will this drow gather these enemies and turn them to some dark purpose of her own?"
"I have no reason to believe that she will," Qiluй said firmly. "That said, although I like Liriel and believe her to have vast potential, I'm afraid that nothing good can come of this situation.
I'll send my daughter Ysolde, a priestess of Eilistraee, to get Liriel out of Rashemen before matters get completely out of hand."
The women murmured their agreement. "We're forgetting one important thing," Storm reminded them. "If Sylune is not in Rashemen, where is she?"
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
the witch of shadowdale
Sharlarra rode into village Dernovia beside the silent, unsmiling young witch. The latter had eventually appeared when the elf came to the city of Immiltar and asked to speak to the witch of Shadowdale.
The elf was still surprised by her own request. The first response to her query had been an outpouring of old stories-there was apparently no shortage of these in Rashemen-but eventually someone got around to contacting one of the