Troy Denning - The Sorcerer

"Perhaps you'd care to sit?" Galaeron suggested, waving at the table they'd set in the shade of the house-a house they'd bought with the proceeds of the sale of one of Aris's statues. "We can bring out some food, if you're hungry."

Storm eyed him warily, but followed him toward the table. "Sitting is good, but I won't have any food. The battle's not done, and fighting on a full stomach doesn't agree with me."

As they took their seats, Aris emerged from beneath his arcade and came to join them. His grim face looked even more somber than usual. When he sat down beside them, he let his body drop so heavily that the mugs rattled on the table.

Storm craned her neck and looked up into the giant's plate-sized eyes.

"If s good to see you, Aris. You're looking better than the last time we met."

Aris forced a smile and said, "I've been waiting for a chance to thank you properly for saving my life, lady."

The giant reached inside his tabard and brought out a three-foot sculpture of Storm kneeling on the ground. The likeness was perfect, of course, with an expression that was at once angelic and fiercely protective. It struck Galaeron that she looked very much like a human version of Angharradh, the elf goddess of birth, protection, and wisdom.

"Please accept this as a small sign of my gratitude."

Storm took the piece with a gasp.

"It's… it's… Aris, it's beautiful!" She set it on the table, then rose and studied it from all angles. Too beautiful to be me… or any mortal woman."

"Not at all. That is the face seen by those you help." Aris glanced in Ruha's direction, then added, "Ruha helped me track down some of them, so I know."

Storm tore her eyes-glistening with unshed tears-from the statue and went over to him. Even sitting on the ground, the giant towered over her, and she ended up embracing the side of his arm.

"Ill treasure it always, Aris." She tipped her head back and blew him a kiss, which floated visibly up to his face and planted itself on his cheek like a silver tattoo. "Thank you."

Galaeron was glad to see that Storm treasured Aris's gift so highly-he had expected nothing else, really, for the giant's art never failed to move those who viewed it-but her reaction also dampened his own spirits. The giant did not approve of what Galaeron was about to suggest, and-given that Storm held him responsible for much of Faer?n's trouble-his idea was going to be hard enough to sell without adding any extra weight to Aris's opposition.

Leaving Aris with a foolish smile, Storm returned to her seat and turned to Ruha.

"Suppose we come to the point." Though her manner was brisk, her mood had been much improved by Aris's gift, and the concern behind her words seemed more a matter of time than displeasure. "I doubt you summoned me from the war in the Shaeradim so Aris could present his gift."

Galaeron winced. One did not "summon" a Chosen of Mystra anywhere, and the fact that she had used that word to describe their request for an audience was not a good sign.

If Ruha noticed the word choice, her eyes did not show it.

"Galaeron has an idea. I think it could work." Ruha's gaze rose toward Aris's gray face and she added, "Aris does not."

"And you asked me here to break the tie?"

Noting the sarcasm in Storm's voice, Galaeron said, "I want to bring down Shade."

Storm cocked a brow. "Bring it down?"

"Like the old cities of Netheril," Galaeron explained. "Crash it into the desert"

"If you're asking permission, feel free."

"Actually, I can't do it alone." So far, so good-at least she liked the idea. To tell the truth, I need you and the other Chosen to do it for me."

Storm rolled her eyes as though she had been expecting something of this sort

"At the moment, we're rather busy trying to save the Shaeradim. I thought you might have heard."

"And I am telling you how!" Galaeron snapped.

He caught the flash of concern in Aris's eyes, then paused a moment to calm his rising ire.

Finally, he asked, "Are you winning?"

Storm's eyes slid away. "No. Lord Ramealaerub's advance has stalled at the Vyshaan Barrows."

The Vyshaan Barrows?" Galaeron gasped. "What's he doing there?"

"If s not a good base?"

Galaeron shook his head. "It looks like it from below, but he can't reach Evereska from there," he said. "If the phaerimm come up the Copper Canyon, he'll be trapped against the High Shaeradim."

Storm raised her brow and said, "I'll pass that along. Unfortunately, he's advancing blind."

She let the statement hang, leaving it to Galaeron to ask if he wanted to hear the details. He didn't, but he had to know.

"Blind?" he echoed. "I thought Takari Moonsnow was with him."

"Lost the day the shadowshell fell." Storm's manner grew soft, and for the first time since Galaeron had known her he saw some of the softness portrayed in Aris's sculpture. "She eliminated a phaerimm that was delaying Lord Ramealaerub's advance."

Galaeron fell back in his chair, his heart aching as though someone had punched him in it He had not seen Takari since shortly after their journey into Karse, when he had returned her, battered and bloody, to Rheitheillaethor and left her there to recover. They had never been lovers, but he had finally come to accept-too late, after leaving her behind-that they were spirit-deep mates, linked on a level more profound than love. The choice to leave with Vala- another woman whom circumstances had forced him to abandon to a cruel fate-had been his own, but one made infinitely less complicated by Takari's harshness as she told him she hoped never to see him again. The thought that those words should be the last he ever heard from her filled him with a raw anguish-and with a bitter fury he knew to be not entirely his own that whispered to him that Storm was lying and demanded that he strike out at her.

Instead, Galaeron lowered his chin and whispered a prayer, asking Takari to forgive his folly and begging the Leaflord to watch over her spirit.

Storm laid a hand on Galaeron's arm-then took it away when his shadow recoiled from her touch and made him flinch.

"You know, Galaeron, you could be very useful to Lord Ramealaerub," she said. "I doubt anyone in the elven army would be foolish enough to turn away your help."

But there was always the question, Galaeron-or perhaps it was his shadow-thought. He was the one who had breached the Sharn Wall in the first place, then invited the Shadovar into the world to undo the damage. He was the cause of all this trouble, and even if they were wise enough not to say it to his face, he knew what his fellow elves would be whispering every time he turned his back.

"Now that is a plan that makes sense," Aris said. "Why not return to the Shaeradim, where we can do some good fighting phaerimm?"

Galaeron raised his chin and said, "Because we can't win the war by fighting phaerimm. Nor can we save Evereska that way."

"This is the part that makes no sense," Aris said. "The phaerimm want the Shadovar killed, and the Shadovar want the phaerimm killed. Destroying Shade-even if you could- does not help Evereska."

"But it does, Aris," Storm said. "The elves have little hope-I would say none-of defeating the phaerimm alone. The rest of Faer?n has been too weakened by the Melting to send help, and the few troops they do have must stay home to defend against the Shadovar. The Shadovar are in the same situation-they dare not engage the phaerimm for fear that the rest of the world will attack them and stop the Melting."

It was a great relief to Galaeron that Storm was the one explaining this. Perhaps one of the Chosen could change the stubborn giant's mind.

Aris burst that dream with a firm shake of his head.

"It won't work."

"Perhaps not at once," Ruha said, "but as the realms recover, they will be able to send troops to join the elves. Not even the phaerimm can stand against the combined might of all Faer?n."