Элейн Каннингем - Elfsong

“A hardship ?” the half-elf repeated. “What then would constitute a catastrophe?”

Lucia hesitated. “A disruption of commerce.”

“Ah, Waterdeep.” Garnet’s smile was hard. “Well then, see to it”

“Have a care how you speak,” the noblewoman said in a tight voice. “I do not take orders like some serving wench.”

“Of course you do. You serve the Knights of the Shield, and they have assured me that you will cooperate in my plan to remove Khelben Arunsun from power.”

“So you have said. How do I know this to be true?” Lucia demanded.

Garnet spoke a name, and the woman paled. The sorceress had named a Knight of high position and dark power, the man to whom Lucia herself reported. “He sends his regards,” Garnet added casually.

“We will increase our activities against the city,” she continued. “I have some influence with the local merfolk—you’d be amazed at how much music and discontent lies under the sea. We will also remove more of the Lords of Waterdeep to increase the demands on Khelben Arunsun and his powerful associates. Give Lord Hhune the names of three lesser-known Lords. Although Hhune’s methods are crude, he has the resources needed to handle the matter quickly.”

“Hhune is still in the city?” Lucia asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice. Hhune made no secret of his ambition, and nothing would please the Tethyrian merchant more than taking Lucia’s place in Waterdeep.

Garnet shot a sidelong glance at the noblewoman. “What of it? Your superior said I might use any resources at his command. Hhune is a guildmaster in his native land, and he is adept at organizing and recruiting. I have him trying to establish local guilds for Waterdeep’s thieves and assassins. He is unlikely to succeed, but it gives the Lords of Waterdeep one more thing to worry about. Now, which Lords’ names are you giving to Hhune?”

Without hesitation, Lucia Thione named three business rivals, not knowing or caring whether any of them sat among the Lords of Waterdeep.

“Good.” Garnet nodded with satisfaction and rose from her seat. Her horse came cantering from a remote corner of Lucia’s garden, in response to a summons the noblewoman could not hear. The sorceress secured her harp to the saddle and hoisted herself onto the horse’s back. “I must travel north for a few days. There I will gain an additional power to use against Khelben Arunsun, and on the way I shall dispatch another of Waterdeep’s Lords. I leave the city in your capable hands, and expect to find all in order upon my return.”

Lucia caught her breath as the white steed rose straight into the sky. Like a tiny comet, it streaked away toward the north. “An asperii,” she whispered, realizing anew the extent of the sorceress’s power. Suddenly Garnet’s last words to her seemed less a compliment than a warning.

The cookfire burned low, and one by one the members of Music and Mayhem drew away from the central fire, wrapping themselves in cloaks or travel blankets. Soon the only sounds were the crackle of the outer fires, the distant chirping of insects, and the rustle of leaves as Orcsarmor climbed a nearby oak to take first watch. Morgalla, also on watch, slipped off into the shadows.

Left alone, Danilo idly tossed acorn caps into the dying fire, trying not to remember other nights spent under the stars, his only companion a stubborn, unreasonable, taciturn half-elven assassin. Those, he mused with a wistful smile, were the best times he’d ever known.

Never had the young man felt so alone as he did at this moment, surrounded as he was by snoring mercenaries. For the first time, he understood Khelben’s concern over the close partnership Danilo and Arilyn had forged. One way or another, Harpers usually ended up working alone.

With a sigh, Danilo reached into the bag of holding at his belt and rummaged around for the spellbook his uncle had prepared for him. If all went as planned, they would face the dragon Grimnoshtadrano the following afternoon, and he wanted to be as prepared as possible. A green dragon’s breath weapon was a cloud of noxious gas. He hoped Khelben had armed him with a spell that could create protective spheres.

Actually the book contained but one spell, and it was like none other he’d encountered. Danilo examined it with growing excitement. On the left side was a page of neatly written music: a simple, soaring melody and the basic notation for lute accompaniment On the right side were a few lines of explanation, then the words to the songs, written in arcane runes. This spell used music as the speech component, and the lute accompaniment formed the necessary hand gestures. The result was a charm spell, very much like the elven spellsong Wyn had used. Beyond its application in the morrow’s encounter, the spell fascinated Danilo, for it suggested a way to meld his training in the art of magic to his genuine love for music and lore, and his current role as bard.

Like all his Harper assignments, the task of recovering the dragon’s scroll had been placed upon Danilo by his uncle. For more than two years, the young mage had worked closely with Arilyn, enjoying the challenges she offered and the knowledge that their disparate skills combined into a unique whole, but for the most part he had followed her lead and reacted to situations of her choosing. He would always treasure his time with the half-elf, and some part of him would continue to hope that it had not come to an end. For the first time, however, Danilo began to see a path that he might follow on his own, a path of his own devising. If this spell were not unique, perhaps he could learn the elfsong magic that Wyn had wielded!

Danilo rose, taking the spellbook to the far side of the campsite where Wyn Ashgrove sat gazing into the trees and wrapped in his own thoughts. Despite the minstrel’s abrupt dismissal of him earlier, Danilo felt he had to pursue the matter of spellsong.

“Elaith said that few elves have your magical skills. Is the aptitude lacking, or are the teachers?”

Wyn looked surprised by the abrupt question, but he thought it over. “I imagine that many more elves possess the ability than are trained. I come from a family of musical scholars, so my talents were recognized early, and the means to develop them were at hand. It may be that others are not so fortunate.”

“If such spells could be written down, perhaps many more of your people could learn this art,” Danilo argued, tapping the spellbook. He held it out to the elf for inspection. “In this way, magical arts and bardic training could be combined.”

“The two types of magic are not compatible,” Wyn said firmly, pressing the book back into the Harper’s hands. He rose, signaling plainly that the conversation was at an end.

At that moment Morgalla emerged from behind a clump of bushes, brushing bits of leaves off her shoulders with an expression of glum distaste. The dwarf seemed not at all embarrassed to be revealed as an eavesdropper. “Hate to disagree with you, bard, but I’m with the elf. Magic is fine and well for weapons and clerical prayers, but don’t go mucking up music with it,” she said firmly.

Danilo knew better than to argue with a dwarf, and, since her words brought an unanswered question to mind, he turned to other matters. “Speaking of magical weapons, how did you know what Elaith Craulnober’s sword was, that you could draw such a picture?”

Morgalla shrugged. “I heared yer tale of the elfwoman’s moonblade, remember? It told how the sword is linked to the elf that wears it.” She pointed with her jester’s staff to a spot behind Danilo. “If that be true, yon elf’s got hisself a problem: he can’t use the sword, can’t get rid of it”

Danilo spun, finding himself almost face-to-face with Elaith. The elf cast a glance at the open spellbook in the Harper’s hands. “More parlor tricks?” he said disparagingly.