Элейн Каннингем - Elfsong

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Danilo said evenly, “but I’m afraid I do.” The riddlemaster’s brows flew upward in surprise, earning a half-smile from the Harper. “At the height of bardcraft, there were seven elder barding colleges, ranked in order of honor and importance. An aspiring bard would attend them all in a specific order, working his way toward the status of master bard. Our mysterious foe seems to be enacting a bizarre parody of this. The first of these barding colleges was Foclucan, which was located in Silverymoon. There a spell was cast on the bards and ballads. I have no idea how it was done. You were there, Wyn; care to hazard a guess?”

“Not quite yet,” the elf replied in a tight voice.

“The crops failed abruptly and mysteriously, not long after the events at Silverymoon’s Spring Faire. The event is described in the second stanza, which makes reference to MacFuirmidh, the second of the barding colleges.”

Danilo paused and took a deep breath. “Two is a coincidence, three forms a pattern. If the third stanza”—he paused and pointed to the spot on the blank page where the words would appear—“if this names the town of Berdusk and the barding college known as Doss, then we will know to expect a total of seven spells. We will also know the path our foe will take.”

“Well done,” Vartain said grudgingly.

“There is more,” Danilo added. “I began this quest thinking only to remove the curse on the bards. This is clearly only one part of the problem. Finally, I doubt that these curses were chosen randomly; they all probably contribute to some ultimate goal. This we must discover, so that we can find and stop the spellcaster before that goal is accomplished. It’s imperative that you solve the riddles as quickly as possible, so that we know what form the other spells take.”

The riddlemaster seemed taken aback by the command in Danilo’s tone. “I am in the employ of Elaith Craulnober,” he reminded the Harper.

“Elaith and I seem to be partners in this effort,” Danilo countered. “You work for both of us now. Think about this, before you limit your allegiance: Elaith wants to possess the artifact, but I want the person behind all this. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t relish the chance to match wits with the author of this riddle scroll?”

That thought flickered in the riddlemaster’s large black eyes, then caught fire. Danilo noted the gleam of dawning obsession and was satisfied. He rose to his feet and walked off to waken the camp, and to give Vartain time to assimilate the Harper’s goal as his own.

Music and Mayhem were on their way by sunrise. At Danilo’s insistence—and for the price of another gem from the dragon’s hoard—Balindar guided Vartain’s horse with a leading rein, so that the riddlemaster could devote himself to the study of the scroll as he rode.

Wyn and Morgalla rode side by side, as was becoming their custom. It was clear to Danilo that the dwarf had found in Wyn the musical mentor she craved, but, as much as he hated to disturb their camaraderie, he needed time to convince Wyn to share elfsong magic. So soon after his conversation with Vartain, broaching this subject made Danilo feel as if he were a juggler trying to keep a few too many balls in the air.

“Ride with me a while,” he requested of the elf. Morgalla took the hint and reined her stout pony over to Balindar’s side. The mercenary looked a bit sheepish when the dwarf approached, but she made some comment that got him laughing and seemed to ease his conscience.

Danilo reached into the magic bag at his belt and withdrew the spellbook Khelben had prepared for him. “This is the spell I used on Grimnosh. Be careful not to look at the runes—that can be dangerous to the untrained. It’s a charm spell, very like the one you cast in the marshlands. It suggests that wizard magic and elven spellsong are compatible.”

“After what occurred in the High Forest, I cannot deny that,” the elf said with obvious reluctance. “Morgalla told me all that happened. She sang me the melody you used, and it is identical to a powerful elven charm spell. This is what you were trying to tell me last night an elven spellsong had been written in arcane notation.”

“Actually, no. I had no idea it was an elfsong spell. I’d never seen anything like this, and I had no idea what it was or even, for that matter, whether it would work. Khelben gave me this spellbook, but I’ve never heard him cast such magic.” Danilo paused, and his brow furrowed. “Come to think of it, I can see why. Uncle Khelben has a voice reminiscent of an amorous cat on an alley fence.

“But I’m wandering from the point,” he continued, giving himself a little shake. “As the good archmage often admonishes me, I ought not to let my mind wander, as it’s too small to go off by itself.”

“You were saying?” Wyn prodded politely.

“Indeed I was. The point is, I’m not an elf, yet I was able to cast magic through music. Consider the possibilities!” Danilo waited for the elf to reply, but Wyn kept his eyes on the path ahead. “Don’t you see what this could mean for the Harpers? After the Time of Trouble passed and the gods returned to their own planes, magic was changed in many important ways. Bardic magic was stolen from humans. If some bards could learn the magic of elfsong, think what we could become!”

“I have considered that”

“And?”

The elven minstrel rode in silence for several moments before he turned to the Harper. “Please listen to my explanation before you pass judgment. Keep in mind that I mean no offense, and that my hesitation does not reflect upon you personally.”

“I think I’ve heard this speech before, from at least a dozen Waterdhavian maidens,” Danilo said warily.

Wyn’s answering smile was faint “Elfsong, as you have so aptly named the spellsong magic, is a power that when learned is easily accessed. But consider this: power is more easily acquired than wisdom. The elven people live for many human lifetimes, and this gives us a different perspective and a patience that humans tend to lack. We are guided by rich and ancient traditions, and we are prone to consider many solutions before resorting to the use of magic. If humans could resolve their difficulties by the singing of a song, the temptation to abuse—or at least overuse—this power would surely be too great to bear.”

“That argument can be made for any kind of magic,” Danilo countered. “Yet many humans wield magic with honor.”

“And there are many who do not. At least with wizard magic, one must take the time to study and memorize a spell before each casting. That guarantees time for deliberation and reflection, and surely keeps many mages from acting in haste. Elfsong lacks any such safeguard; once a spellsong is learned, it can be cast at will.” Wyn shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I have spent many years among human musicians, and there are none I would entrust with such a power. Your ways and elven ways are simply too different.”

“I have the next two stanzas!” announced Vartain.

The riddlemaster’s words forestalled the protest Danilo had ready. “Can we discuss this at a later time?” he asked the elf.

“It would do no good,” Wyn said with quiet finality.

Although he was deeply disappointed, Danilo saw no option but to accept the elf’s decision. He inclined his head in a small, formal bow and rode to Vartain’s side.

“You were correct,” the riddlemaster said, and his voice was less patronizing than usual. “The third and fourth sites were also barding colleges. The riddles name Doss in Berdusk, and Canaith, located near Zazesspur in the land of Tethyr.”

“I have recently come from Tethyr,” Danilo said thoughtfully, remembering the ballad that had driven him north. He’d tried to put that night from his mind, but he quickly reviewed the event now in search of something that might yield a clue. He wished he had asked Arilyn for more details about the bard who had spread this ballad. Perhaps such information would help them now.