Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [30]
"That is true," Xzorsh admitted.
"Fine things all," she agreed. "Perhaps we are wrong to look upon this dark elf and see only evil, but is it not possible that you see only the good things she has offered and refuse to swim the depths beneath?"
Xzorsh wanted to deny these words, to reject them utterly. Perhaps he might have been able to do so had he not seen the battle on Ruathyni's shore.
"It is my duty to protect," he said slowly, "and it is possible that the best service I can do the People is to guard Liriel well. While I live, no harm will come to her-or from her."
At last Coralay lowered her trident. "That is all I wished to hear. Go, and do."
A fair-haired young man, green-clad in garments of fine summer silk, whistled a popular tavern ballad as he sauntered toward Blackstaff Tower. The rounded black keep was a Water-deep landmark, an ancient marvel of smooth black stone unmarked by either windows or doors.
The visitor walked straight toward the tower as if he intended to pass through solid stone. He hit the wall hard and staggered back a few steps, clutching his head with bejeweled hands and cursing with great vigor and imagination.
His next few attempts were more tentative-a prod here, a careful kick there. Finally a slim feminine hand thrust out of the wall and seized a handful of his tunic. His guide tugged him through the invisible door.
Danilo Thann looked down into the indulgent face of Sharlarra Vindrith, an elf wizard apprenticed to Khelben "Blackstaff" Arun-sun. He removed her hand from his tunic, gazed into her eyes-violet with flecks of gold, he noted-and raised her fingers to his lips.
"Lovely Sharlarra," he murmured, "once lauded as the most beautiful elfin Waterdeep."
Still smiling, she lifted one brow in challenge. "Once?"
"Well, naturally." Danilo gingerly touched his forehead. "Since I'm seeing two of you today, you'll have to share the honors."
The elf laughed and tucked her arm into his. "I assure you, there is no one else quite like me," she purred.
"Pity. The possibilities were, to say the least, intriguing."
"Are you both quite finished?"
The question was spoken by a deep male voice made familiar by a slight burr and a certain irritation of tone. Sharlarra let out a startled gasp and spun to face her master.
Khelben Arunsun was, or appeared to be, a powerfully built man in late middle years. His dark hair was touched with gray and a streak of silver divided his neatly trimmed beard.
"The potions?" he reminded Sharlarra, pantomiming a stirring motion with one hand.
The elf bowed and hurried off to tend her duties. Danilo watched her go with a smirk that loudly bespoke masculine appreciation. The moment she left the room, however, his smile dropped away.
"What is it, Uncle? The urgency spell affixed to your summons nearly set the parchment afire."
"This came from the harbor merfolk." The archmage lifted one hand, snapped his fingers, and plucked a sealskin parchment from the air.
Danilo took the offered document and skimmed the message. After a moment, he raised incredulous eyes to his mentor's face.
"Apparently you made quite an impression on this visiting drow wizard," Khelben said in a sour tone.
The young man smiled complacently. "Women have frequently described me as an unforgettable experience."
"I've heard the same said of camp fever and the galloping flux. You will not meet the drow at the harbor."
"I won't?"
"No. Do not challenge me on this matter, Danilo. There is more at stake here than you know."
"There usually is," he murmured. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "Just for novelty's sake, would you care to enlighten me?"
The archmage linked his hands behind his back and began to pace. "Caladorn Cassalanter sails with the drow. He was very displeased by your involvement with the drow, and none too flattering in his assessment. I thought you two were friends."
"So we were, and so we will be again," Danilo