Windwalker - Elaine Cunningham [67]
After a few moments, Gromph shot her a fulminating glare. Continue, but know that your words will destroy you long before they harm me.
If you wish to know my thoughts, take them from me.
Gromph turned a look of pure incredulity upon the impudent female. Rage burned in his amber eyes, but the flame faded as her meaning became clear to him.
You can keep me from your mind. Me! he marveled.
Shakti dipped her head. Through the god's grace, I can. Do you know what I want most from this new power?
A sour expression crossed the archmage's face. The usual, I suppose-the early death of your matron mother and a smooth succession, the advancement of your house, a seat on the Council of Eight, the dark pleasures of power.
"I want to survive," Shakti said, speaking softly but distinctly. "I want to wield power, yes, but I know this city, and I know what I am likely to achieve. I do not want to be driven mad by the limits on the power available to me. Who knows this skill better than you?"
Gromph turned slowly, looking her full in the face. He did not chide her for speaking aloud or for the presumption inherent in her words. For the first time, a flicker of interest lit his amber eyes. After a moment he turned aside.
There is more, she added hastily, reverting to silent speech. 7 have followed Uriel's path, and know where the amulet is bound. Therein lies my value to you. If you had interest in Vhaerun, you could seek out others who follow the masked god. If you had need of ears and a voice among the counsel, you could surely find a more powerful priestess to do your bidding, but I alone can promise you the return of the Windwalker.
He glanced at her. Promises are easily made. Have you forgotten that Triel also seeks this artifact?
No longer. I told her that Liriel still lives and that it is the will of Lolth that she stay in the Night Above and continue to wield the artifact to Lolth's glory.
Gromph chuckled softly. Did my sister believe this?
A soft and pleasing lie is more readily distrusted. Tell tales that people do not wish to hear, and they are more likely to believe.
The archmage sent her a considering look. Devious, he admitted, but surely that alone did not convince Triel.
Shakti dipped her head in another bow. As you say, my lord. Lolth gave powerful evidence of her favor to House Baenre by returning Quenthel to life and to Triel's side.
Quenthel. Alive, you say?
Yes, Lord Gromph.
There was a long silence as Gromph considered the possibilities inherent in this new shift of power. That should please Triel, he said at last.
Who can say? Shakti commented. 7 have done what the yochlol bid me, except for one thing. By the command of Lolth, I must find a way to repay you for Liriel's loss.
Yochlol. The command of Lolth. These were powerful words, and they hung heavy in a silence that lasted for many steps.
Go to Narbondel, Gromph said at last. Seek out the trio of flayed illithids engraved on the obelisk. Touch the head of the illithid in the middle three times. After the third touch, a small pebble will emerge from the stone and into your left slipper. Do not take it out. When I wish to speak to you again, you will know. Go to a private place and take the stone into your left hand.
With those words, the archmage disappeared. However, he did not stop watching. He noted the smile of satisfaction on the priestess's face and her confident stride as she turned back to the pillar.
He watched her search for the flayed illithids among the intricate carvings, run her fingers across it. She shifted her weight to her right foot, indicating that the pebble had found its way into her slipper.
With a thought, Gromph sent out his "message."
A jolt of power coursed through the priestess, startling a yelp of pain from her and sending strands of white hair dancing wildly about her face. She quickly smoothed her hair and strode away, keeping an admirably level pace despite the pain in her foot.
Gromph followed her toward the lake.