Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [22]
Ibn noted this, and his eyes shouted reluctance and distrust, but his men had been Hrolf's men, and many of them owed their lives several times over to these mismatched elves. "Make it short," he said grudgingly.
Liriel sent a look toward Fyodor, and the three friends withdrew to the far side of the ship. Xzorsh shrugged a sealskin bag off his shoulder and took from it a tightly rolled tapestry. The drow's heart leaped and fell in a painful thud. She did not need to unroll the tapestry to know what it was: a beautifully crafted horror depicting the torture of captured sea elves. What made the tapestry even worse was the knowledge that it was more than just a twisted piece of art. The spirits of the slain elves had been trapped within the threads.
"None of your priestesses could free them? Or priests?" she added as an afterthought, recalling that surface elves didn't limit themselves to an exclusively female clergy.
Xzorsh shook his head. "This is a thing born of dark magic, something foreign to our sea-elven gods. It must be undone as it was made."
A great weight seemed to settle in the pit of Liriel's stomach. Darkness was her native element. Who better to unravel the tapestry's mystery than she? Still, the prospect of delving into this vile magic chilled her, as did the choice it implied.
She glanced at Fyodor. He nodded slightly to indicate he understood her dilemma. If she had the power to do good, was she obligated to do so even if it meant trafficking with evil? Liriel had dared to hope that the need for such decisions had been left behind on Ruathym. The expectant, trusting expression on Xzorsh's face told her that it had not.
"I'll handle it," she said shortly. "You'd better go. Ibn is looking this way, and something tells me he's imagining a bright red harpoon target painted on your backside."
"First, there is something you must know," Xzorsh said with quiet urgency. "The Regent of Ascarle is seeking you everywhere. The seas resound with her agents and messengers."
"Really. In that case you can easily find a way to send her this," Liriel said, lifting one hand in a rude gesture.
The sea elf smiled faintly. "A difficult sentiment to express with webbed hands, and just as well. I'd rather not alert the illithid's minions to my location and yours. I just came here to warn you."
"And perhaps to remind me of my promise?" she suggested slyly.
"When have I ever offered you such insult?" he protested. "You said you would find another wizard to teach me the art of magic. In my mind, the thing is as good as done."
Liriel huffed and slid an arch glance at Fyodor. "He doesn't know much about the drow, does he?"
"He knows you," Fyodor said, sending an approving nod toward the sea elf.
The drow rolled her eyes. "I'll find someone in Skullport and send word to you through the Relay," she suggested, naming the efficient underwater alliance that sped messages throughout the northern seas.
"It would be better to keep your location as quiet as possible, even after you arrive in Skullport," Xzorsh advised. "Whatever your captain says, I plan to stay with the ship until you reach port. In these troubled waters, you will need my eyes and my voice."
"Your voice," repeated Fyodor thoughtfully, his gaze shifting from the drow to the sea elf. "If word of Liriel's passage is widely spread, it is likely that goodly folk will also hear of a sea-going drow wizard, and mistrust her intentions. She may need someone to speak for her."
Xzorsh acknowledged this with a grimace and a nod. "My people have heard. Many are deeply concerned."
"What about the sea elves we freed from the prisons of Ascarle?" Liriel pointed out. "Some fought at Ruathym. They will speak for me!"
"They will speak of a drow priestess, and more than a priestess," Fyodor said soberly. "You did not see yourself soaring above the battle, black fire spilling from your hands and burning in your eyes. Those who saw might well believe they have reason to fear you."
The memory sent a surge of despair racing through the drow. She quickly gathered